श्वास

श्वास रोखलेला
आतल्या आत
आतड्यापर्यंत
हृदयाची धडधड सतत वृद्धिंगत

चोरटी झुलूक
स्पर्शून जाते अलगद
जातात क्षण विरून सारे
हाती उरतो कोरडा उसासा

डोळ्यातून , जमीनीतुन आरपार जाणारी नजर
आकाशातील पोकळी शोधणारी नजर
सिगारेटच्या धुरामागे स्वतालाच हरविणारी नजर
काळ्या  ठिबक्याला सतत मोठी करणारी नजर ..........


ता . क  : कविता  वाचून काहीतरी कालवाकालव व्हायला हवी, तरच काही अर्थ आहे . वांझोटया ओळी म्हणजे काळा हिरा .

नाद , नाद , अंतर्नाद

वाजताहेत घणघण  घणघण घंटा
सतत अविरत
इकडे तिकडे चोहिकडे
बधिर होउन जाऊदे एकदाच ....

बोथट संवेदनाना चाटू दे ईर्शेचा अग्नी
थंड पडलेल्या हातावर पडू दे तांबडा ज्वालाग्रही गोळा
जड़ झालेल्या पायाखालील जमीनच निसटू दे
निस्तेज बुब्बुळातुन आरपार बोट जाऊदेत ....

उघडया डोळ्यांनी स्वतावरच शस्त्रक्रिया होऊ देत
चिरू दे हे कुजके हृदय टराटरा
उडू दे भिकार रक्ताच्या चिळकांड्या
हातावर , पोटावर अणि लोचट जिभेवर ....

हरेक दीर्घश्वासापायी जळाव्यात धमन्या
कोंडला जावा श्वास बेचव क्षणी
शिरशिरी यावी बांडगुळाकड़े पाहताना
घडयाळाच्या काट्यामागे पळावे उर फुटेस्तोवर ......
     

प्रतिबिम्ब

 आरसा

जरी असला एक धातूचा तुकडा
तरी उधलतो सारे रंग हा
जरी स्वतालाच न पाहू शकला हा
दाखवितो इतरांचे बाह्यरंग हा

ललनांचा हा सखासोबती
वार्धक्याशीही वैर नसे
कोणीही यावे पाहुनी जावे
स्थितप्रदन्य राही हा बापुडा

रुपडे असो कितीही सुंदर
क्षणभंगूर सौंदर्याची व्यर्थता जानतो हा
जरी असेल चौकट कितीही लोभसवाणी
पारयाशी इमान राखतो हा

हवी एक दृष्टी
हवे नवे आत्मभान
आपुलेच गुणदोष नीरक्षीरन्यायाने दाखविणारा
कोणी नसे सखा यासम ....

                                                                    28/02/2010

आरसा

आरशात भलताच दूसरा कोणी
मीच मला अनोलखी
काळे डोळे, रुंद कपाळ
सावला रंग
शांत चित्र
सुंदर व गहिरे ....

निर्जीव डोळे
डोळ्यातून आत जाणारी वर्तुळ
वर्तुलातुन निघणारी अगणित अंतर्गत भोवरे
आतच आत जाणारी
खोल खोल
अंधारातून अंधाराकडे ........

मंद गहिरा श्वास
अविरत चालणारी धड़धड
कानोसा अस्पष्ट धड़धदीचा
मंद अतिमंद
हरविलेले भान
अमुर्ताचा हव्यास  ....

हवेत भिरभिरनारा मनपक्षी
उंचच उंच जाणारा
आडवा तिड़वा उड़नारा
सरळ खाली येणारा
एका डोळ्यातून दुसरया डोळ्यात पाहणारा
आराशासमोर  येताच टक लावून बघणारा ....

                                                                   28/8/2012

गुंजारव

भ्रमराने करावी आर्जवे कुसुमाला,

कर रिती थोडी तुझी मधुशाला ! 

पण ती रसिका 

लाथाडीतसे सर्व आवेदने 

न जाणो कोण्या मस्तीत दंग 

असते करण्या प्रकाशाशी संग..

का झुरावे मग भ्रमराने?

का धाव घ्यावी कुसुमाकडे आवेगाने?

त्या वेड्यास काय ठाव ?

रविकिरणापुढे  त्यास काय भाव ?  

बसतो आस लावून,

पाहिलं एकदातरी मजकडे, 

पण ती स्वतातच असते रममाण 

करते वायूशी गुजगोष्टी तर कधी आकाशाशी नेत्रपल्लवी !

होते कल्पनेच्या अश्वावर स्वार 

करते स्वर्गविहार,

भ्रमरालाही हौस भारी 

पण नाही परवडत ही सवारी.

झाले जड नयन जरी 

आले जरी अंधारून तरी 

आस त्याला मोठी भारी 

येईल साद कधीतरी...

 

होतात तिन्हीसांजा 

पाखरे जातात आपल्या घरा

सुरज जाई दुसऱ्या गावा

वाराही झोपी जावा 

वाटे तिला अनंत एकांत 

पडते मग भविष्याची भ्रांत 

येते मग आठवण भ्रमराची त्या निष्ठुर  हृदयाला ,

देती साद त्याला , घे शोषून मजला 

किंतु  त्याने आता गुंडालीला असतो आपुला गाशा 

हाती असते रिते मधुकुंभ व साथी असते फक्त निराशा...

काळेभोर डोळे
अन हसरा चेहरा
लाघवी हास्य
अन खट्याळ नजरा
वेड लावी साऱ्या चराचरा | 


जणू काही ठाव नसे असा अविर्भाव
अरे हट !
साफ झूठ,
हि तर जाणिते सर्व तंत्र-मंतरा |

Gilded Cage

Smattering noise,

Unparalleled chase,

Dreadful nights,

I thrives gilded cage.

Long waiting moments,

Sinful expectations,

Ghastly lies,

I thrives gilded cage.

Thirsty veins,

Hapless eyes,

Indigestible hunger,

I thrives gilded cage.

Constant hatred,

Beaky gazes,

Raising doubts,

I thrives gilded cage.

Muddy thoughts,

Scary dreams,

Disgusting beggary,

I thrives gilded cage.

If only

You will never meet the same person again.

Big events, small incidents knowingly or unknowingly contribute to building our own character. Whenever somebody says that, “You have changed a lot, you were not like this!” (In what sense, the concerned person knows the best!) Then we get realized that, yes! I guess, I changed a little bit.

I always open to any such events which enhance myself, rather everything around teaches us something, the only thing is that we have to see it with different spectacle. One thing I learned that about myself that, I am so much fancy about living on the edge. I likes when the situation let my adrenaline pumping. Be it exam time, any sport event, writing something innovative, watching lots of movies( till computer itself felt guilty), reading something( and forgetting everything) , going crazy about somebody( in spite of knowing the ultimate end). Although I likes sleeping long hours, sitting idle.

I realized after some time you get bored of the things which at some point you think, I can’t live without this! Time passes, you get addicted to something different. In my earlier stay at Pune, I was crazy about CS, so much that nobody can believe, how addicted I was! After some time the attraction receded gradually. Then came back at pune again. Again get hooked for some time. I again smiled at myself. Now seems to be come to ground reality. 

 

Meanwhile, introduced to Blogging and then poetry. Again fell in love with this, so much that at times, I got afraid of myself. Poetry is a kind of sweet addiction which soothes burning heart. I wrote every kind of poem mostly in Marathi, surprisingly some in English and more surprisingly in Hindi. Last summer I thought about a lot about this blogging and poetry, on the verge of leaving all this. I took a break, very confused. I tried to discuss, but later learned that, none can reach depth of anybody problem expect that person. So I thought a lot, and decided I shouldn’t deprive myself from this divine joy.

Someone said that, we get a single life; we should try each and everything. I totally disagree with this kind of philosophy. Life is such an unpredictable phenomenon that let alone rationalizing it; we cannot go near understanding it. I love surprises, also surprising others also. One thing I learned is that, you can’t blame anyone for your own downfall. You cannot claim sole propriety of your success.

Looking back at those memories,

I felt gasped!

I wonder how beautiful days they were.

Though at that time never realize,

The beauty of living the moment.

Time passes,

With little introspection we console ourselves,

I had a good time out there!

Why this lie?

Why such aloofness?

still, why there is guilt?

Are we destiny’s puppet?

Certainly not!!!

I wanna stride out, then do it!

I wanna break the rule, set free!

I wanna ruin myself, get ruined!

I wanna write a lot, express it!

I wanna hurt myself, do it badly!

I wanna study a lot, make it happen!

I wanna screamed like hell, tear it!

  PS: This post contains so much I, me , myself stuff , which i really don't like at first place but still cant resist the temptation.

दुनियेने झिडकारिले , सारे बेइमान झाले,
आतून तुटलो, शब्द मेहेरबान झाले.

Inside story

Hide the pain
hide the tears
nothing gained
nothing feared
all was lost with bloody scars
all it cost
were a few wishing
stars.



I always used to wonder how these poets, authors get inspiration from. Though V P humbly admit that, it is just a matter of one moment, rest is all donkey work(here writing) Yes, everybody craves for that one moment. Although all the stuff i wrote comes within me, but this particular poem i had written was the aftereffect of above lines.( it was a wallpaper.) When i read it first time, i suddenly felt some rush inside me. As my stuffs lies everywhere in the room, so it wasn't hard to catch a pen and book where i was sat. The end product after 10 minutes is lies below.

PS: Don't relate those two in meaning.It was just it spurred me.



What if
nobody besides me,
i will still love
what inside of me.


What if
there is no shoulder to cry for,
I will let myself drawn into my tears,
let tears felt envy of my eyes.


What if
none listen to me
I will let my burning heart to go loud,
so much till i feel numb.


What if
there is no way ahead
I will blindfold myself,
and follow my instincts.

What if
words come hard on me
I will borrow some from you,
to fill the unexplained sorrows...

limbo

At one time so many things invade my mind, having no control over them. Now a day One such thing which dominates all other was, I imagine myself to be in a limbo. I have all sorts of novels, poems, ghazals which I can read rest of my life, having no other things to worry about. I will wake up in the morning (rather in the afternoon) take any of the novels which lie besides me and read it until I quenched my thirst. Then I will write which is mine, mostly poem. I always felt guilty of myself being too lazy. I almost have 4-5 ready plots, on which I can write good short stories, but…Last month the feeling surpassed my laziness (finally!) and I wrote one story. No doubt, felt lot relieved. Now since I will be in a limbo, I can let my laziness to die a slow death then I will ride on my all unfulfilled wishes until the dust settles.

                  This is my idea of inception.   

सतार

पडली होती धूल खात एका कोपऱ्यात
माज्या दुखाची सतार |
बरेच दिवस जाले रियाज काही होत नव्हता
सवयच होत चालली होती जणू काही त्या सतारीलासुधा
बरोबरच आहे,"रोजच मरे त्यास कोण रडे" |

आलवितसे आसवांची तान  
व त्यास ठेचकालानारे पार्श्वसंगीत |

उठली ती आज ज़न्कारून
गेले तनमन शहारून
कोणी छेडली ती तार
जाला तनत्कार
गलबलले साश्रुनयन |

ती गेली तशीच परतून
नाही पाहिले एकदाही वलून |
नव्हती मजलाही कसलीही आशा
न जाणली तिने ही परिभाषा |

छेडलेला राग बसलो पुन्हा आलवित
नव्हता कोणाचाही आधार
होती फ़क्त हाती सतार
फ़क्त हाती सतार |


PS: By far this is one of my favorite poem. Felt very satisfied(although i felt every time i did any poem)  after completing this one, literally soaked into that.

रुपेरी काटा

वेदनाच जेंव्हा सोबतीण बनते
तेव्हा कुठलाच प्रवास मोठा नसतो
काटा कुठेतरी रुतत असतो
एक डोळा हसत तर दुसरा रडत असतो .

Low aim is crime, true!
but low expectations are the essence of the time.

When we were nascent, we were like every other rock found beside any hillside, unknown of which sculpture is hidden within us. We have to use time as a dagger to remove the unwanted parts. As time passes, we get to know the real beauty within us. Then the word flows unknowingly: “Really! Is that me?”

It was predicted
nothing seems fine...
was addicted 2 you
donno how much this'll,
gonna take this time...

दुक्ख दुक्ख करीत
कितीदा बसायच मक्ख....
इथे नाहीत प्रकाशकिरण
इथे फ़क्त अंधार लक्ख..