Skip to main content

My Travel Bag

Life's the longest journey
that I have to endure
My mind is my travel bag
full of emotions
that might not all be pure.

And in that travel bag
I keep memories
of people that I knew
or of those who played a role
in my thousand different stories.

There are some moments as well
kept in there unintentionaly
like that customary old cap
fuzzy,but still reminding me
where this journey began, unconditonally.

In the end i pack hope
on the top
just like the flash light
something to switch on in the dark
and help me see everything right

I zip it all up
the emotions, the memories, the moments,the hope
with the love in my heart
glancing towards the horizon
as me and my destination
are still miles apart

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Candle in the Dark

The white burning candle, Standing in the dark.. on its own, trying to illuminate everything around, albeit the darkness has persistently grown. It is aware that it is alone, while the darkness around it is vast It is devoted to being lit, even as its existence melts fast But is it really a candle? Or is it the flame of hope? That tries to hang on in times of despair, and tries to cling on to that last bit of rope. It keeps burning still, battling the known and the unknown, all hidden in the darkness around. It shrinks in size, with its head held high, still believing that it is glory abound. 

The world and fools.

The world speaks, much more than it listens, O how it speaks, on things beyond its mind - a gathering, mostly the enlightened, but a few fools,  who care to listen, fools, who still dream, of making the world listen, more than it speaks... of changing it for the better, of taking it beyond the bickering, of not letting it sink in the shallow. O world listen thou shall, O world listen thou must, To these fools with dreams, some broken but all pure, pure as the new dawn they seek. O world give them hope to feed from while all's unjust. Let them fuel from it all, so that when they speak, it matters.

मैं, कल और आज

इस फाल्गुन मास में, उन अदृश्य उँगलियों की गुद-गुदाहट है, जो यादों को भी टटोलती है, लबों को भी।  मैं आज में चलता हूँ, और कल में खो जाता हूँ , आज में सोकर मैं कल में जग जाता हूँ।  और मुझे दिखता हूँ मैं, दुनिया से अपिरिचित हूँ थोड़ा-सा मैं , स्वयं में ही व्यस्त हूँ थोड़ा-सा मैं।   पलटकर भी मैं स्वयं को ही खड़ा पाता हूँ, मैं जो कि  अब उसी अनजान दुनिया का हिस्सा हूँ, मैं जो कि  थोडा सा खोया हुआ किस्सा हूँ।  फिर मैं खुद का हाथ थामकर, दिखलाता हूँ खुद को ये दुनिया खुद की नज़रों से, थोड़ी बातें फिर से सीखता हूँ, जानता हूँ।  तभी किसी आवाज़ से आखें खुलती हैं, और मैं सच्चाइयों से घिर जाता हूँ, बीते हुए कल के कल को मैं आज पाता हूँ।