11 March 2013

अभिव्यक्ति

अभिव्यक्ति इस मानस की । 
है कुछ संगीन ॥ 
रंगो से है, भरी हुई । 
पर रंगो पर ही, एक छवि हुई

इसका आकर है निराकार । 
और भोग है तप
जीवन के इस प्रष्ठ पर । 
ये रहती सदैव, तृप्त

कौन है हम, कौन हो तुम  । 
के सिलसिले में, झूझती हुई । 
इठलाती हुई, और मटकाती हुई
ऐसी कुछ अदा है, प्रति प्रति व्यक्ति  की

कुछ ख्याल, कुछ उन्माद । 
उमड़े मेरे लघु मन में
कुछ सपने, कुछ अरमान । 
जागे इस जीवन में

चाहा कि, बनू एक आवाज़ । 
या कोई चलती किताब ॥ 
पर होता है मुश्किल । 
     कुछ इसका हिसाब  ॥    

य़ो तो मैं , कवि सही ।
पर शब्दो में, मैं रवि नहीं ।।

चाहता हूँ, सुनाना मेरे दिल का हाल । 
मेरी अभिव्यक्ति, मेरा इंसान
रौनक, रिक्सोर वाला




10 March 2013

महाशिवरात्री का मेला

Every year, it happened and every year, we waited. It was like, most auspicious, and most fun day of our childhood. I now, am very well lost in this world of 3G and technology, however the roots, which once brought a zeal to liveitall and pursuit to happyness, came from this mela.

Ours is a small city, of many and many businessman, and a lots and lots of Johris. People know each other by names, in my case, by faces. If you stay, at गोल प्याऊ चौराहा(main market), you will find someone familiar to chat with. There are no traffic lights, and roads are in bad shape, still youngsters love bikes, and those who think, that they have little sense of business, love cars. I liked cycles. My friends and me were so enthralled by these cycles, that we used to play hide on seek on these, and domain was limited to two-three nearby colonies.

Girls used to play territorial games on the road, like 8 पाले, घड़ी etc. , 


 Inline image 1  
Source 8 पाले
while boys indulge themselves in cricket at barren plots and gilli danda in streets. In midst of this normal life, there comes a place called Harni Mahadev, where annual mela happens on the day of Mahashivratri.

I know, what I wanted.See maut ka kua, tedha jhula and dollar swing. And eat lots of chat. There were churan shops, we used to go there and try to taste all of sauf and churans. Then shopkeeper realizes, what we were up to, so he shushed us away. And then, our parents came to that shop, or rather we brought them there. We, with innocent eyes and devil mind, act like perfect gentle kids, and taste all of them again. It was so much fun, it seemed like we were having a blast.

Before enjoying all of this, came a visit to the शिवलिंग, surrounded by rocks and pundits. They used to tie, लच्छा on our hand, and it was like, a new birth, a twilight in our little lives. Constantly messing up with, temple bells, trying to ring them again and again, with our parents help. It felt, like god may not play dice with numbers, but hell, he lets us play with him. It was so kind of him.

Now, time has passed, the fun and our concepts of prank have changed. I do not see, myself in those melas again, or even enjoying those little rides and the amazing chat.

But still, our देसिपना. Yes, it still endures.   

8 March 2013

Memories

In the nights of deepest calm,
I often wander, to memories warm;
it's a never ending phase,
which stays constant with time and space.

A school bus, and hairs short;
the tidy form, an hanky for snot.
Felt like a fight, for reasons unknown;
still, a slap, when nails got shown.   

A race, some cards, and cricket;
a few fractures, and a leave ticket.
Are times, I remember those;
teary fights, and mother's console.

A first kiss,
and being totally amiss;
reminds me, of innocence,
that I long; forfeit.

In the nights of deepest calm,
I return, with face lukewarm;
it's a never ending phase,
which only grows, in time and space. 

Ronak

ठगा गये !!

कैसी है ये ठगी, कैसी है ये ठगी । 
बिना पूछे ही मुझे , तुम प्यारी क्यों लगी ॥ 

चाहता था, मैं भी तुम्हे ठगु । 
चाहता था, मैं भी तुम्हे ठगु । 
पर हो ना सकि , कुछ ऐसी है तुम्हारी हँसी ॥ 
रौनक

4 March 2013

What is need of reincarnation ??

Half an hour ago, I had a heated discussion with my friend over reincarnation, and though he understands things a little bit different, we agree that there is a dilemma around the subject reincarnation.

So, it brings the topic, why in the name of any curious god, we need reincarnation ? God, who is considered so almighty, that he created the Universe, made species like blue whale, polar bear, mosquito and humans etc. He gave us something to wonder about,  diverse grasslands, steep mountains, long rivers and indomitable seas. And as a material witness, I would like to believe that he is something else. However, he cannot put just enough imagination in creating himself. So what does he do, he change essential parameters, like height, voice, caste etc. and bam!! there is your reincarnation.


I think there is an elaborate conspiracy going around, and the conspirators are no one  else but us. Hell, God himself is confused.  He, with so much hardship, thought of a nice character for ongoing story-lines. He thought this is it. He thought it to be an original masterpiece.  But people down there,  are calling it up a sequel. And he cannot protest, cause technically he has no voice of his own.

Before, I argue about my convictions, I want to make clear understanding, of what I mean by reincarnation. It is revival of a soul, or revival of conscious, that was known to exist, before the arrival of a new being. It is to be noted, that revival doesn't mean exact replica, however there is a sub-part, that must match in order to call it reincarnation.
Now basically, there are two approaches, either our soul/conscious is infinite, or otherwise. Due, to lack of substantial proof, and our understanding of issues, my premise of argument is that soul can be represented in finite terms. 

Consider a program, that prints itself. Lets call it a reincarnation program(Or Quine in programmer's jargon).
#include <stdio.h>
char *program = "#include <stdio.h>%cchar *program = %c%s%c;
%cint main()%c{%cprintf(program, 10, 34, program, 34, 10, 10,
 10, 10, 10, 10);%c    return 0;%c}%c";
int main()
{
        printf(program, 10, 34, program, 34, 10, 10, 10, 10, 
               10, 10);
        return 0;
}
So, to write such a program, we need to know everything before, so that we can alter our corresponding program string. Since concious, is way complex then this simple program, and the way it interacts with non-replicated parts make its nature chaotic. But still, this chaotic program has to be written. 

Now in mythological terms, either Lord Brahma, is too efficient to write  such a program or people are taking reincarnation for granted.  And as Einstein said, genius might have limit, but stupidity is limitless.

Our refutations and our premises are all assumptions, but the understanding of process and computational intractability is not. We still may discover some way to write such a program, which considers every possible combination of events, and able to execute it on some machine. However proven mechanisms of understanding, restricts us to believe in what reincarnation stands for.


Reincarnation, it is a lore, it gives us hope and it acts like amendment in sacred religious scripts, but claim is too out there.
  

3 March 2013

ज़िंदगी और मौत

ज़िंदगी और मौत
-------------------------------------------

ज़िंदगी  और मौत का ,
चंद पालो  का है सफ़र ।
सालों  साल है हम सोचते,
पर लगता  है केवल एक पलक।।


मैंने  भी बहुत सोचा, 
जिंदगी  के कभी इधर, कभी उधर,
पर ना  मिला, कोई सही प्रश्न ।


शायर और लेखक, 
वैज्ञानिक और भिक्षुक,
सभी सोचते है, और कुछ पाते है ।


पर मैंने  क्या पाया, मैंने क्या पाया।
शब्दों के विचार, निति  का व्यवहार,
बेलव्ज प्यार, या अनचाही कतार।।


मैं  अंजान नहीं, मैं भगवान् नहीं,
देखा है एक सपना, जिसे  पाना  आसान नहीं ।
अब मैं खुश नहीं, अब मैं नाराज़ नहीं ।।


अब मैं हो चला, और हो चली मेरी आयु
 और हो चले, मेरे जवान ।
और मेरे छोटे जवान ।।


वे भी मुझसे पूछते,
क्या है या ज़िंदगी, क्या है ये बवाल ।
मैं हँसा, और बोला, यह है एक तलाश,
जिसकी फिदरत है गोलमाल, और आकर्षण है विचार ।।



रौनक, रिक्सोर वाला

2 March 2013

A golden bullet in my head..

A golden bullet in my head

A chill of November, and a dew of night,
a few lone sparrows, with sun in the sight.

Nature's aura, and this nature brigade,
brought to a moody man, more moody upgrades.

Then it happened, nature was outclassed,
I was asunder, and even...
   
a gold of yellow, and a yellow of gold,
a heart was never so nervous, yet so bold.

A sun in chill of November, with dew of night
Always bring you love and life.
And then, there was she,
always bright, with a pretty smile.


Credits to shine,
that fell in eyes of mine.