Month: March 2016

by

होली के सूखे आँसू  (dried tears of Holi)

 

सोच रही हूँ इस बार
लातूर की होली कैसी होगी?

सुना है दो रोज़ पहले, जल दिवस पर,holi ke rang
सरकार ने धारा एक सौ चव्वालिस* लगाई थी..
डर रही थी कि कहीं पानी के टैंकर के पास
प्यासे लाचारों की कोई टोली बवाल ना मचा दे !
मैं भी सूखे आँसू रोई..
मेरे ही बच्चे मेरे ही जल के लिए तड़प रहे थे
…
पर आज होली है
आज तो पूरे भारत में
बावलों की टोलियाँ पानी से खेलती हैं
आज, लातूर की होली कैसी होगी?
…
चलो एक दिन ही सही
कम से कम होली पर इंसान विभिन्न रंगों से खेलता है
मैं तो रोज़, प्रकृति के हज़ारों रंग
उस पर न्योछावर करती हूँ
पर वो अनजान सिर्फ़ काले रंग का धुआँ
मुझ पर फेंकता जाता है
…
दोपहर का वक़्त है
सब थक कर घरों में सो रहे होंगे
मेरे तन पर कई रंग और
अनेक प्लास्टिक पैकेट बिखरे हुए हैं
काश ये फूल होते
ख़ुशी या माहतम के
मुझ में समा जाते
…
— धरती माँ–
(मनीष श्रीवास्तव)
…
————————————————–
English translation…
I am wondering, this year–
How would they celebrate Holi in Latur?
2 days back on the world water day,
Government enforced section 144*
Fearing that thirsty mob may go wild
around limited water supplies
I also cried dried tears
for these are my children suffering draught
…
Well, today’s Holi
Whole India will gather in mobs
And go wild with water and colours
Wonder, how would they celebrate in Latur?
 …
Even if its just for a day,
Atleast they celebrate various colours of life
All through the year,
I offer so many from nature
And they give me back just one
Black carbon smoke…
…
On Holi afternoon,
They might be tired & sleeping
Leaving so many colours
and plastics on my body
Wish they had left flowers
of joy or funeral
and let those dissolve in me
————————————————-
 …
by

The Alchemy of Writing

A pen knows the language of the land.
One dipped in soul, activates many…

Writer is an artist with a form–
that sings with the music of heart
and flows fearlessly on the canvas of imagination
Writing can be as subtle as the breath…
and as literal as the word.

What’s even more magical is the shape-shifting of creative writing
When a soul’s longing transforms itself
in word, on paper, in print,
travels readily across the oceans, infects the field,
meets another eye, ear and heart–
shifts back into fire, water, spirit–
rekindles many souls and the earth…
and hibernates to be rediscovered in future…

Writing is alchemy
Its an ancient discipline of transforming
unformed emotions into shining words
After each para… I am born anew

Writing is healing
It channels wounds
A secret passage for tears and scars
To find their salvation

Writing is a great sacred ritual
When I write, I am dancing with my soul
With the discipline of a samurai
and surrendering of a devadasi

Do I write or am I written…
By the great pen of life
Filled with deeply felt experiences
On the paper called humanity

All arts are great expressions
Soul yearning a creative from
Writing is special for here the masterpiece
Is the writer himself (herself)!

 

— manish srivastava
(the sacred well)