रास्ते

ढूंढते थे जिसे हम खुद गुमे,
लेके हमको वहीं पे आ गए

रास्ते, रास्ते, रास्ते, रास्ते,
रास्ते, रास्ते, रास्ते

कौन सा था शहर ये न थी खबर
घर के हम हर कहर से थे बेखबर

हाथ थामे हमे ये ले चले
बिछड़े साथी मिलाने रास्ते

कहने को तो वहाँ था पूरा जहाँ
पर वो मेरा खुदा था जाने कहाँ

हाथ सजदे में मेरे जो उठे
नाम से थे बुलाते रास्ते

~ निहित कौल

Advertisements
Posted in Hindi - Urdu | 2 Comments

The Journey

The first 5 lines of this poem were written many decades ago by my father, Ashok Kaul. I have taken the liberty to extend the thought with a few more.

A rose was released
From the womb of the seed
Into fetters of its form

From Jail to Jail
The journey of the frail

A baby was born
At the break of the dawn
In an Army uniform

From cradle to grave
The journey of the brave

She sold out her soul
And played out the role
She was made to perform

From bed to bed
The journey of the dead

Posted in English | Tagged | 2 Comments

Mirage

You are like a mirage in my deserted life.
My hands tremble when I try to touch you,
With the fear that you may disappear.

You are like a mirage.
You seem so near when you are so far away.
You help me take each step with the hope that I may reach you.

You are like a mirage.
You seem like water to my parched throat.
You seem like the haven my tired body yearns for.

You are like a mirage.
You beautify my desert, my life,
When the sun beats down on it mercilessly.

You are like a mirage.
You keep the spark of life alive in my sight,
You make me live for something beautiful.

You are like a mirage.
You make the cacti seem like date palms,
You make my tear drops seem like the oceans.

You are like a mirage.
And with a mirage so beautiful, who cares for the truth.

~ Nihit Kaul

Posted in English | Leave a comment

Blemishes

That keep appearing on all our faces
Drawn by a hand as time traces
Like the lines on an organic Fuji

Blemishes
Some of which are born of sin
On the skin and some within
Like the trunk of a pregnant Oak

Blemishes
Trembling hands that fail to hold
A life’s worth of pain and gold
Like the petal slipping off a rose

Blemishes
Fruit of autumn, flower of age
Seasoned by the hands’ rage
Like the hunch of a windswept Palm

Blemishes
Scenes painted by the Past
Which, eyes of Now, watch aghast
Like the lava, cold and black

 

~ Nihit Kaul

Posted in English | Leave a comment

To you, my friends

With a tear and a sigh and a heavy heart,
I close my eyes and I look away,
This time when it’s time, for me to depart,
I’ll have for you, no words to say.

I’ll have no, “Miss You”, sweet and plain
I’ll have no, “We will meet again”;
I’ll have no songs, no works of art,
No laughs to offer on this mournful day.

But this mourning is a mirage, of my mind,
A fever I fathom but cannot find,
For this pain, is an exchange of the kind,
Where I take you with me, and leave myself behind.

~ Nihit Kaul

Posted in English | Leave a comment