LIES

They feed you lies.
While they comb your hair and straighten your clothes, they'll tell you that looks don't matter.
While they compare you with the neighbor's kids, they'll tell you that society's opinions don't matter.
While they try to mould you into their expectations, they'll tell you to be yourself.
While they scold and berate you, they'll tell you to be positive always.
While they inwardly hope that you don't do anything to damage their reputation, they'll tell you that it's okay to be different.

While they tell all these lies, they'll tell you that truth always wins.

Bedhangi

बेढंगी 

नहरो में प्रवाहित जल नहीं 

मैं उजड्ड पहाड़ी नाला

सुर-सुस्सजित कंठ का अलाप नहीं

मैं अल्हड़ ठहाका मतवाला

ना विद्वानो के वेदों का ज्ञान गंभीर

मैं तो अधपके प्रेम पात्रो की स्याही

ना शिल्पकारो की तराशी मूरत कठोर

मैं कुम्हार के चाक की रिसती सुराही 

तुतलाते होठों के अस्पष्ट शब्द मैं

कंपकपाती कूची की छटा बदरंगी

मैं किसी नौसिखिये की रचना बेढंगी

मैं किसी नौसिखिये की रचना बेढंगी

- अक्षय सिंह 

Bitterness

Grow up. Just don't let that bitterness seep in.

It drips in quietly. Drop by drop. Orange bars and candies  taste sour. Cartoons become gibberish nonsense. The tiffin from home loses it's magic. So do the hands that used to share it so freely. 

Before you know,bitterness starts soaking in. Entwined with envy and dipped in desperation.

Desperation to achieve, prove, win affections, exact revenge and amass something or the other.

From the morsel of food in the mouth, to the birds twittering on the branch. Everything is complained about. Jokes carry a shade of sarcasm. Praises are lined with grudge. And happiness is felt only when it is appreciated by others.

Grow up. But don't let that bitterness seep in.

That bitterness is the weapon society uses, to defeat you.

KALI

Kali is more than untamed nature. Kali is PAIN. Pure ecstasy that accompanies pain and surrender.

The Goddess of outcasts, the ones who have never belonged. Who have spent their lives trapped in their own mind. Drowning in the guilt that has been forced upon them. Misunderstood, cursed and aloof of society.

The poets, the aghoris and the power seeking madmen. She accepts them all. Loves them. Adornments, gifts, wealth .. Nothig matters. As long as you surrender yourself and ask Her to stomp you.

And stomp she will. Crush your ego, wrench your half baked relationships, feed on your illsuions. Until you are left sobbing and weak. Do not stop praying. There is no one who lifts you as swiftly and as lovingly as Her.

Offer her your sweat, pain, weaknesses, fears and all that rots inside you.

My Dark Mother, will destroy you first .. Before she reincarnates you in Her own image.

kitaab mili hai

किताब मिली है 

आज बहुत दिनो बाद जो धूप खिली है

छज्जे पर पड़ी एक पुरानी किताब मिली है

मटमैला, बदरंगा सा गत्ते का कवर

आधा चढ़ा है, आधा उतर गया है 

बस लटका है चंद धागो के सहारे

और कोने से ना जाने कौन कुतर गया है

अंदर, पीले पड़े पन्ने धूमिल से हो चुके है 

ना सर समझ आये ना पैर! बड़ा झमेला है 

बस श्ब्दो और अक्षरो की रस्साकशी समझिये

वैसे, किसी ने पीछे कटटम कुटटा खेला है

काका हाथरसी की चुटकिया है, या कृन्दन गंभीर

रासलीला युक्त पन्कितयां , या दैत्यो का साया है 

सोचता हूं, एक बार को कलम ले मैं खुरच कर देखूँ 

या दुबका कर लिटा दूं दोबारा, जहां से उठाया है 

आज बहुत दिनो बाद जो धूप खिली है

छज्जे पर पड़ी एक पुरानी किताब मिली है

- अक्षय सिंह 

Winters

Winters.

To him, winters were all about smoke. Smoke, haziness, wafts that arose and settled (rather naughtily) in nooks and corners.
The puffs of air that escaped when he wrinkled his nose in disgust. The slow measured stream of smoky breaths. Warming those frozen hands and creating a canvas on dusty widow panes.
The hot embers that sizzled under layers of ash. The coffee mug that warmed the tip of his frozen nose as he inhaled it.

The fog! Oh, that dreadful morose fog that swirled and descended every night. And was found cuddled and frozen on shivering leaves next morning.
Scattered lights, hazy windshields, spooky strangers,dusky afternoons and dark inky sky.

Summers! Summers were a Hawaiian shirt darned with multihued patches of colour.
Winters! Winters were all about smoke.

Dreams!