"The last dream--Where aspirations defeat death.."

"Ishaan", the name was enough to mesmerize the whole fraternity as he was all set to play his part once again. He was expected to outperform and pounce on the subjection every time sent to the competitions. He was never to be failed, be it sports, Singing, art exhibitions or studies. The man with various colors. It was a great show right from the time I entered in. He was scrupulously doing his job with sprinkling the salt drops from every part of his body. The moment was ripe with potentiality. He was shining alone for his dedication though not noticed in the throng of big names. He put some more stars on the reputation of IIT Roorkee. I was amazed to see his caliber and impeccable skills on the field. I thanked Deepak for giving me an opportunity to be a witness of his talismanic performance that day. It was narcissistic though necessary to show my overwhelming emotions about the magical performance of Ishaan. Match was finished but the seriousness on his face was still alive. He was sitting on chair recapitulating the ups and downs of the match as if he was setting his task for upcoming matches which brought me to imagine the great stalwart Rahul dravid making his plans for the next game. He preferred to settle on the chair unlike other team mates who were cheering for the another wonder created by him with not out 85 runs in just 52 balls in the crucial situation when once score was 52/4 in 10 overs, remained 40 overs and 215 runs were still to be chased. What a nail biting match. Deepak did not deprive me, meeting the champion anymore as he could recognize my hankered eyes in pursuit of Ishaan. He took me to the rest room which was glass framed. I was inquisitive on my way controlling the stream of questions flowing out to interview Ishaan. “Congrats Ishaan, very good job done” Deepak wished him for his exotic performance “the best of the day”. I proceeded my hand to wish too. I kept gulping questions not to let them out but could not control. “Ishaan, how come you are so consistent of taking studies along with sports? You are best at both though.” I still held his hand tight. Ishaan wanted to response but was interrupted by Deepak for introduction. He is my friend Mukesh Pandey, has come all the way from Delhi to watch you playing.” “Very true, you are more efficient than I conjectured, you would be. Deepak kept raising my curiosity by telling the range of good things about you. It was seriously fascinating to hear about one from the other prodigy.” He seemed still without any floating reactions after having received the tons of applause from me. He kept puffing as he really had a long time over the crease and the sun was breaking out with the extreme of heat at 2 o’clock in the noon. I wanted to proceed the conversation but there was a resonance coming from the ground calling the shining Armour to be rewarded for such an extra-ordinary match wining inning. “He was used to of it”, I thought as he was merely excited. He kept a blooming smile while giving a pose with man of the match trophy. A droplet of sweat was happily rolling down behind his left ear through neck towards his chest seemed it was cheering with slight swing for being fortunate emerging from Ishaan’s body. The moment was really blissful and graced my day spending in IIT Roorkee. I had heard about the exceptions studying in the premium institutes like IITs and then I met the boy who lived up to all the sayings up to mark.

I was still in the aura of Ishaan’s simplicity and extreme talent. It was not because of his knock which he had played to get his team to win but the way he treated the fame was really adorable. He on the chariot of success with various skills in his quiver was still rooted. I had been sitting with Deepak at ganga ghat remembering the glimpse of Ishaan’s spark for a long. We did not talk to each other for about an hour. Quiet I just put my eyes at the ethereal water of the most holy river ganga, which was rapidly flowing. The sound of water running over the rocky bed fetched my attention. Ganga the river which attracts thousands of pilgrims and tourists, from within India, as well as from other countries, could not fascinate me. I was running with Ishaan’s flow. “He is truly a gem, it was worth watching him. I anticipate he’ll glorify his name all across the country.” I initiated the conversation. “Yes he can, but I am not really sure he’ll, whereas towards the end of life it becomes easier to soak up all the positive energy and channel it towards achieving goals.” Deepak responded me with a low voice. “What do you mean by towards the end of life?” “Ishaan has got bowel cancer. It is from uncontrolled cell growth in the colon or rectum (parts of the large intestine), or in the appendix. Symptoms typically include rectal bleeding and anaemia which are sometimes associated with weight loss and changes in bowel habits. He was first hit by anemia and then it took place as cancer. He was 16 when he got to know about it. Initially enmeshed with sorrows but gradually he developed the courage to face the reality and has been enduring it for 5 years now. Doctors have given up, but he has not. He lives for others and wants to beam the whole world with his spark. He lives for his dreams irrespective of the fact they are not for long. This is Ishaan, a boy always comes with solutions but can’t save his own life.” Deepak removed his glasses and started weeping. I also felt a drop on my finger, I refused but then could not hide the rill of tears gushing from the ocean of my eyes. It got more pace and flow than Ganga. After listening to Deepak, Getting goosebumps I was stunned for few minutes. It was the clash of noises coming from the flow of the river and the screams from my inner soul. I was dissatisfied. Ishaan’s glowing face kept coming in front of me. I was unable to believe that the future of the country would sooner be history. It was really sad. 
It was 6.30 in the evening and all the priests had been set to start the most famous event (the Ganga pooja) of that place as the sun was off for the day. We stood for five minutes for prayer and left the place. Although we did not share with each other but could figure out the wish that we kept from Ganga Maa.      

OM

Om the Logic of the world,
Unexpected the magic of the world..


It's the denominator of the earth or soul
It sways with wind, it pours with rain..


Dark originated but has a shining light,
The immense hope, as the sun after every gloom night..


A vibe revolves from hermitage to monastery,
Power within all, which embraces in the trance factory..

A revered word which overflows with its own energy but inquisitive to find ,
Tumultuous and potential yet profound like a seed in the land of mind..   


Beam of light that peeps and beams the universe,

Accompanied with monks in all their ups and in all adverse..


It is in a rill of tears rolling down the ocean of eye,
It is immortal throughout, beyond birth or demise


It enlightens faith even in the averse and the accursed
People practice it with strong beliefs and then the meditation occurs ..


Deep as ocean and vast as sky,
Motion in the earth and clouds very high..


The layer of ice on the top of the hill,
Chant is a way and Om is the feel..

नन्हे फूल

 नन्हे-नन्हे हाथों में  वह छाले देख मन रोता है,
इनकी सूनी आँखों में भी कहीं एक सपना रहता है..
व्यथा इनकी गहरी है यहाँ अरमान डूबाया जाता है,
एक दो वक़्त की रोटी को इंसान दबाया है..

कोयले की खानों में ही हीरे अक्सर मिलते हैं, 

खैर तराशे नहीं जाते, यहाँ तो कोयले ही बिकते हैं..

कभी गौर से देखो तो समझो, कोयला नहीं जो तपता है, 

यह तो आंच है दुर्भाग्य की जिसमे भोला बचपन जलता है...

छोटे से इन बच्चों से सर्कस की बढती शान है,
खेल में ताल-मेल बैठाते अद्भुत इनके कमाल हैं..
कभी गौर से देखो तो समझो, यह ताल-मेल गुम है इनके जीवन में,
कलम पकड़ने की उम्र में इन्हें करतब सिखाया जाता है..

लोगों को नाच दिखाते, देख इन्हें मन कहता है,

यहाँ बीच सड़क अभिशाप की थाप पर तांडव होता है..

कभी गौर से देखो तो समझो, यह नृत्य नहीं है उमड़ा हुआ,

यह तो उत्सव है इनकी गरीबी का जो रोज़ मनाया जाता है...

एक बार इन्हें भी जीने का अवसर मिलना क्या उचित नहीं?
अपनी हित पूर्ति के लिए क्या इनका बलिदान अनुचित नहीं?
कभी गौर से देखो तो समझो, ये अँधकार में घिरे हुए,
अँधेरे के बाद ही तो एक नया सूर्य उदय होता है...

The Queen’s Meadow-Ranikhet

The shining crowns of big Himalayan range in the sun appeared as beautiful as always. The big pine and oak trees around depicted a very beautiful landscape. We crossed gateway of the Kumaon Regiment centre into Ranikhet. Our eyes constantly roved around the charming scenery. The pleasant soothing breezes and fragrance of swaying pine trees welcomed us in Dev Bhoomi. We were at an altitude of 1869 meters above sea level and within the sight of the western peaks of Himalayas which was just opposite to the Delhi’s busy lifestyle. Almost over 250 km and 12 hours tiring journey turned to be very fruitful after reaching the peaceful destination. We were at the Ranikhet bus stop with our bags. It was a sunny day though chilly. We sat in a small Dhaba near the bus stop and ordered rayta and Pakoras. “It is a great feeling to be here once again, my land, my pride. I can’t forget even a single moment spending here during school time. What were those days? Nostalgic” Manish initiated the conversation. “Yes bro, this is a true creation, beautifully painted by God. You were fortunate enough to have studied and spent your school days here.” said Vicky, moving his eyes through the ice sheeted Himalayan range. Ashish was busy, capturing the nature from his mobile phone. He kept clicking images until phone’s memory went full. All five of us were at the height of excitement. “I don’t want to go back, Delhi is horrible with full of rush, busy lifestyle, noise and pollution. Here I find peace, even we can hear a wind whistling around.” I proved my presence in the conversation. “Well said bro, and a good thing about Ranikhet is less commercialization that keeps the glory of the place.”Niraj proceeded, putting an essence of his knowledge. 

It was 4 pm we entered in Parwati inn. The entrance was beautifully decorated with red and white balloons and a small pine tree was well bedecked on the Christmas occasion last night by inlaying various gifts. The vivid lighting, making amazing designs on the wall created a very good ambience. A small gold painted statue of laughing Buddha and comfortable wooden Sofas fetched us. We kept our bags on the imported wooden surface and filled the check in formalities. The hotel had 32 rooms spread across 3 floors, each room was well furnished and provided with the modern amenities of life. All the rooms had an individual balcony for the guests to sit out. A multi-cuisine restaurant was associated with the hotel. We were provided with the television and telephone facilities and an attached bathroom with running hot water. It was a well lit room, equipped with a nice bed covered in beautiful bed sheet gave a heavenly feeling with the pleasant wooden fragrance. There were some magazines kept on the tables for the guests. We settled down, reposed our head on the cosy cushions and took a short nap.     

It was 5.30 in the evening. We moved out our room to explore the place.
The sun was about to turn off behind the clouds and was slipping down slowly towards the mountains with the supreme performance of vivid colours on canvas of the sky. The sun turned orange, golden and then gray liked the splash of various colours in the drawing competitions, which reminded me of great art performances in the movie “Taare zameen Par”. That was a natural creation which could not be awarded in the art museums. Bird’s chanting was the only noise left in silence of the evening. The place became calm, wind turned colder and with the fraction of seconds it was just uncountable stars in the sky. We all appreciated the breath taking Sun set on the hill. We were feeling shivery as the cold ice breezes decreased the temperature of the place. Day melted off and so did we..

Next day in Chaubatia gardens -

After visiting the most famous Apple orchards (Chaubatia gardens), we were still in the flavours of more than 200 varieties of flowers and fruits. It was exotic surrounding with most scenic views of snow clad mountain peaks of Himalaya. Chaubatia is a junction of four paths, inter-linking Ranikhet, Bhargoan, Pilkholi and Dehrti. It is also known for its fruit gardens run by Government fruit research centre. Many local tourist guides started chasing us right from the time we reached at Chaubatia to take us on the nature walks through the gardens and forests. They claimed to have in-depth knowledge of the flora and fauna of the place. But we did not hire one because they looked more interested in search of our pockets than offering us the researched knowledge about flora. Ironically, while following, we found their services to be seriously productive as they truly revealed the secrets of those dense forests to other tourists. We felt proud to be updated for free and high fived each other.

With cherishing memories, I found myself lost in that Himalayan range. My soul resides there in my land. 

A lovely journey came to an end with so many good things behind.

मेरे शेर..:D

गज़ालों की उस जुम्बिश में हमने भी अपनी एक नज़्म पेश की,
उठ खड़े हुए सब सर ज़मीन से,  
हवाओं में लहराती वाह-वाही ने हमारी ताज पोशी की.. 

कदमों के लड़खड़ाने को तुम मदहोशी न समझो,
ये तो यूँ है की हमें मंजिल आसान पसंद नहीं...

रातें खुश नुमां, दिन धुआं,
अब तो हाल ये है की उजालों से डर लगता है हमें..

इस ही तरह दिन बदले, रातें गुज़री, ज़माने रुकसत हुए कई,
कई परिंदे जुदा हुए, कई ख्वाब धुआं, कई क़ैद में ही रहे,
थे कुछ जो उड़ गए वो भी जकडे गए आसमानी जंजीरों में,
क्या खुला आसमां भी कहीं थमता है?
इस ही सवाल में उलझे हुए बस हम अभी तक हैं यहीं...

मेरी नज़र और नजरिया दोनों में तुम हो,
नज़र तुम पर अर्ज़ है और नजरिया खुद का मुकरर्र..

रात भी शबाब पर है आज और चाँद भी पूरा है,
सितारे भी गिनने को है फलक पर और बादलों का मेला है..
ऊपर खुला आसमां जैसे बुला रहा है ये कहता हुआ, 
की बस रात ही है जिसमे तुझे खोना है, 
दिन तो हर रोज़ तू एक नया खोता है..

राह की तलाश में गुमराह में चलता रहा,
न मैं हारा कभी, न राह-ए-उलझन सुलझी...

ये मेरा खालीपन है या उसकी जुदाई है,
नूर बरसा दे मुझ पर, तेरी खुदाई है ..
शमा-ए-इश्क की लौ में हम इस कदर जल गए,
न दिखे हम, न घाव, रूह लुट गई बस धुँए रह गए..
दुनिया में आशिकों कमी न थी, 
हम ही थे जो गम के हवाले रह गए..
मिट गए सारे नज़ारे, रौशनी,
हम सूनी गलियों को गम के रखवाले रह गए..
कहा है खूब उस शायर ने भी की,
घर से तो हम चले थे खुशियों की चाह में, 
गम राह में खड़े थे वो भी साथ हो गए..
शमा-ए-इश्क की लौ में हम इस कदर जल गए,
न दिखे हम, न घाव, रूह लुट गई बस धुँए रह गए..

इन लफ़्ज़ों की आवा-जाही में हर पल फसते हैं मेरे अलफ़ाज़,
के यहाँ अदब से आदाब नहीं मिलता और शादाब से शब नहीं घटती..

सीने में रौशन मेरी खामोशी सब दफ्न कर देती,
पर तेरी चीखों ने सभी दर्द फिर से आज़ाद कर दिये..

रोज़ रात अपने बिस्तर पर धसा हुआ मैं खुली आँखों को बढा कर 
देर तक कुछ सोचता हूँ, कुछ ढूँढता,
उस ख्वाब की तकमील तलाशता हूँ शायद,
जिसके आगाज़ की तारीख मैंने अभी तय नई की...

रात बस मलाल में डूबा मैं खो गया,
निगल गया अँधेरा मेरे साये को, मैं तन्हा सा हो गया..
चाँद सोया हुआ और सब लौ गुम,
किससे करूँ शिकवा की ये क्या हो गया?
एक तारे की हुई फज़ल, वो टिमटिमाया,
तो हल्की रौशनी में मुझे मेरा साया नज़र आया..
बड़े एतीहात से करना चाहता था इस्तेकबाल उसका,
पर नींद से लड़ता हुआ मैं फड़फड़ा के बुझ गया,
अब मैं शिकस्ता सो रहा मेरा साया जी गया...

सांस अभी बरक़रार है, मुझको महसूस होती है,
खुली आँखों में ये दुनिया मेरी नज़रों मन बंद रहती है..
आवाज़ बाकीं है अभी, गूंजती है कमरे में,
दीवारें आज भी कभी कभी मेरे राज़ सुनती हैं..
हाथ पैर हिलते भी हैं झूलते हुए तो यकीं है के मैं जिंदा हूँ,
वगरना जीस्त के इस सुकूं को लोग मेरी लाश कहते हैं..

दिनों को रातों में तब्दील होती देखती हैं ये निगाहें रोज़,
सूरज को बुझा कर, रौशनी चिरागों में ढूँडती हैं ये निगाहें रोज़
सच की तलाश में रहती मगर एक नया भ्रम खोजती हैं ये निगाहें रोज़..

फिसलती अक्सर हाथों से, ये रेतें आज़ाद हैं
या की फिर मुट्ठी की पकड़ कमज़ोर है..

बादलों की कहानी भी अजीब है, 
कभी बरसना है गरज कर तो कभी हवा की ठोकरें हैं..


मैं तो शीशा हूँ, 
मेरा अपना कोई वुजूद तो नहीं..
न नाम है मेरा जुदा कुछ,
मुख्तलिफ कोई अंदाज़ भी नहीं..
न ही ख्वाबों के मंज़र,
न उम्मीदों के मकां,
न चमकने की ख़ुशी,
और न टूट जाने का गम कोई..
जज्बातों में क़ैद मैं होता नहीं,
न ही एहसासों की समझ कोई... 
न ही गिरने का डर और बिखरने का दर्द,
मैं तो सिर्फ शीशा हूँ, कोई शख्सियत तो नहीं..
हो तुम जो हो दिखता हूँ, 
नहीं अगर पसंद, मेरा कुछ कुसूर तो नहीं..
मैं तो सिर्फ शीशा हूँ, 
मेरा अपना कोई वुजूद तो नहीं..


राख ही नहीं यहाँ थे निशाँ-ए-ज़िन्दगी भी,
शोर-ओ-गुल में चूर थे, अब जो सन्नाटों में तैरते हैं
तूफानों के शोर में भी राग हैं जो गूंजते से,
उनको सुन कर फूलती नसों में खून झूमते हैं...
थे न काबिल के तब रुसवा किया था तूने हमे,
तुझ में ही खोये रहे, अब खुद को भी हम खोजते हैं..
के गिर गए जो टूट कर लहरों में दफ़्न थे कुछ महल..
आज भी उन रेतों में हम अपने मकाँ को ढूंढते हैं..


ये तो शब-ओ-रोज़(दिन-रात) का तमाशा है,
के जहाँ से आये थे वहीँ को निकल पड़े,  
जो पड़े थे बिस्तर पर लाश की तरह रात भर,
सहर होते ही मुर्दे भी रूह तलाशने निकल पड़े..

शहर में चीखें तैरती हैं कश्ती की मानिंद, 
सैलाब एक सिलसिला हुआ जो मुसलसल चल पड़ा है,
शख्स तो वो मोम है जो आंच से पिघल जाए 
ये कौन आतिश है जिससे बयाँबा जला है.. 
नहीं आती न सही कज़ा, ज़िन्दगी कटती नहीं तो क्या,
पूछ जहाँ बिन बुलाये पहुची ये कैसी बेहया है..
तेरे दर पे या रब ये कैसा है मंज़र,
कभी काबा था जो, आज कब्रिस्तां हुआ है 


बादल थे मेरे ख्वाब टंगे रहते थे आसमाँ पर।
अबके मौसम ख़राब था, के आँखें बरसी जमकर। 
उमस भरे घर में घुटते हुए यूँ, 
क्या देखा है तुमने भी 
टपकते ख्वाबों को 
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“The Wall” remains Immortal..

It was completion of the golden era of cricket when Rahul Dravid hung his boots on March 9^th 2012. A day ago at his felicitation ceremony, he could not control his hard hidden emotions and gushed out with tears during his farewell speech. That moment he actually discovered the pain to be separated from team India and got off his dream game cricket. A great cricketer, a disciplined sportsman and a gentleman turned out to be a black cloud over the opponents throughout his career. He has always defended himself to be a part of the media controversies but always shined his name with his consistent great performances. If Sachin Tendulkar is the God of cricket, eventually the God could not beat the wonders that an ordinary man made at number three in the history of Indian cricket. He always over shined the level of cricket with his extraordinary talent and his true sportsmanship. He has been a valuable asset for the team on and off the field. His politeness and his gentle image got him the opportunity to represent India a year ago at the annual Sir Don Bradman oration 2011, everyone who had gone through that speech could figure out, if he was not given that privilege then who else?

Rahul is a role model for every growing kid of the country and even overseas for his extreme of the ability to endure and to survive in any situation. He is worth to be called a perfectionist. The cricket legends and his fellow players always quote golden words about him. Harsha Bhogle, a great cricket expert and commentator once defined Rahul with an adjective of being an artist, “Rahul is like a perfect prose with every comma and full stop in place”. Chris Gayle, a horror for all the bowlers in any format of cricket, says “it’s very nice to see Rahul batting, he can hit the ball hard and play like me but I can’t play like him.” Rahul, carrying all the achievements and big words in his quiver, is still rooted.

Rahul has been mentioned on cricket books for plenty of records. He is one of the  batsmen to cross the milestone of 10,000 runs and is the only cricketer with more than 150 innings while batting at number 3. Rahul was honored on the occasion of crossing 10,000 runs with a wall of 10,000 bricks at the Chinnaswamy stadium. It is a wall of commitment, consistency and class written over it. The calm and composed cricketer shares the two all time biggest ODI partnerships with Sachin Tendulkar(321 runs) and Sourav Ganguly(318 runs) and an unforgettable partnership of 376 runs at Eden Garden Test against Australia with VVS Laxman in 2001 are out of the long list of achievements. He is the only player with having taken the most number of catches in the test cricket. He is out of the four batsmen who have scored 10,000 runs in both the formats of cricket, test and ODI. Rahul, getting range of the achievements during his 16 years long career has been a kind human being nevertheless. He has been out shadowed by fellow players' fame and stardom but has always taken the team out of the odd situations and brought it to wins many times. Despite of having great cricketers and big names Sachin Tendulkar and Saurav Ganguly in the country, Rahul has made himself equally worthy and supported the team at his best. There were times when he failed but he took every disappointment as a learning experience and raised his level along with the time. Rahul has not only got the fame but an immense respect from his fans all across the world for his focus and commitment towards the game. He could win more hearts than the matches he got.

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 Rahul “The Wall” has got lot to do for the Indian cricket yet. It’s just one inning is finished and the other is yet to be played. The resonance of his glory reaches an end which is a huge sigh of relief for all the bowlers. Good luck Rahul, keep contributing for the nation.  

A poet inside me will never die..

The Wind forgets to blow, birds would refuse to fly
Oceans would no longer be deep, clouds would not be high..
If the sun would not shine and the stars vie..
Still a poet inside me will never die..

Inspirations vanish and themes would pass by..
Mountains tilt and rivers would pour down through my eye..
If nature would be opposite its beauty and rainbow would get dyed..
Still a poet inside me will never die..

Mind would stop functioning, the eyes go dry.
My thoughts would not rule, my words would cry..
If the sight would get black and I would be lost by sty..
Still a poet inside me will never die..

Blood would not vein through,my heart would not try..
Skin would get rough, my wrinkled head would feel shy..
If last my beats would about to say Good bye..
Still a poet inside me will never die...

Collect all my words and I would get them tied..
I would nectar my dry heart,seed of hopes, I buy..
The land would be green and delighted I would sigh.
I will be died though, never let a poet inside me die.