Category: Poems

की अकेला बैठता हूँ मैं,

Kumar Harsh1 Comment

की अकेला बैठता हूँ मैं,

की अकेला बैठता हूँ मैं,

तो एहसास होता है,

की जैसे बरसों का दुख हो टूटा मुझ पे,

की दर्द की पराकाष्ठा क्या है,

की जैसे घिसते हुए किसी पहाड़ से गिर रहे हो आप,

और कोई भी सहारा ना मिले,

सोचो तो कुछ नहीं,

सोचो तो बहुत कुछ,

की अकेला बैठता हूँ मैं,

तो डरता हूँ,

समझ पाएगा क्या कोई भी,

की भूल गए सब शायद की हूँ इंसान मैं भी,

की खींचती हैं अंतड़ियाँ अंदर से बाहर,

ख़ौफ़ से आँखें नहीं बंद होती,

नींद दूर सी भागती है,

या मैं हूँ जो सोना नहीं चाहता,

की अकेला ही बैठता हूँ मैं,

की करे क्या इस्नान ही,

सब कैसे ठीक होता है,

वक्त कैसे सारे ज़ख़्म भरता है,

कोन बताएगा,

कोन ढाँढस बँधाएगा,

की अंजाबी सी शक्ल है आईने में मेरी,

समझता हूँ ख़ुद को,

बस एक दिन और,

एक दिन और,

एक दिन और……

रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं

Kumar Harsh1 Comment

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

बादलों से जैसे कुछ फुस फूसा कर,

लड़ता है सूरज जागने को,

की रोशनी से उसकी आस जुड़ी है कइयों की,

की उम्मीद है रोशनी और धूप करवटें,

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

बाँधों से जैसे गुज़ारिश कर,

झटपटाती है नदी बहने को,

की पानी उसका जीवनदायी है,

की बहना ईमान है उसका और छोर साथी,

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

अफ़सोस से जैसे हंस कर,

मुबाहिस करती है उम्मीद,

की सच से परे है,

की सादगी उसकी आज की नहीं और मज़हब उसका आसमानी है,

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

आशाएँ जैसे काँप कर,

उखेलती हैं चंद साँसों के लिए,

की कब कोई हक़ीक़त गला घोंट दे उसका,

की कब कोई बेबसी दफ़्न कर दे उसे,

किसी बेनामी ताबूत मैं,

और भूल जाए उसे,

क़यामत या उसके बाद भी,

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

शायद लड़ना ही धर्म है मेरा,

फिर चाहे ये वक़्त हो या तक़दीर मेरी,

याद नहीं की कब सोया था,

की पता था लड़ना अभी नहीं है,

कान, नाक, आँखें, बाज़ुएँ, ये चर्म मेरी सब साक्षी हैं,

की रोज़ लड़ता हूँ मैं,

की कई जंग दिखती हैं,

की कुछ बस अंदर ही रह जाती हैं….।।।

सपना

Kumar Harsh2 Comments

देखा मैंने सपनों को आशाओं के तले दबते हुए,
की आँखें नहीं खोलता था मैं,
की सपना यह ठहर जाए कुछ और देर सही,
की जब आशाओं के समंदर का खारा पानी,
चुभन कर बंद कर देता है आँखें मेरी,
एक सपना ही है तो जहान मैं आज़ाद हूँ,
ज़िंदा हूँ, सहनशील हूँ,
एक बच्चा जो बस बड़ा नहीं होना चाहता,
सपना बनना चाहता है,
आशाएँ जिसे डुबाती नहीं,
आशाओं और सपनों का एक घनिष्ट संबंध,
जैसे बारिश और मिट्टी,
धूप और छाँव,
अनेक और एक..

Rains

Kumar Harsh3 Comments

I see lavender greens,
Over mists that gather,
On the ruins of my wretched heart,
For my eyes still search,
A wither of golden,
A Touché of transcendental being,
For I begin and end with the touch,
Of the one I call my heart,
She calls me by name,
And brews mountains of ecstasy,
On nights cold and days so hot,
For I begin and end with her touch,
The only that tears me apart,
Stitches me again,
And tears me apart,
I see lavender greens,
On the ruins of my wretched heart,
She mends and brings sunshine,
The dry soil that longs for the rain…..

Devil

Kumar Harsh2 Comments

A devil stares me at night,
Standing infront of me,
Whenever I dream of darkness,
I know it will someday grab me,
Take over my mind and body,
As I try to stay numb to sensations outside,
For they push me closer to it,
Everytime my heart bleeds,
And I become pieces of chalk,
That absorb slowly its footprints,
In dark soot and viscous slime,
I try to sleep with eyes that close sometimes,
It comes closer everyday,
Near to my feet,
More than ever,
I can feel its hands reaching up my bed,
Or is sanity slowly diminishing from my head,
Past is future,
Or is future past……

Each day

Kumar Harsh3 Comments

I see faces down with the work of yesterday,
The faces tired and anguished,
Dirt lay still and has made mounds on them,
Living but dealing with canyons that haven’t touched in eternities,
For One sees reflections of oneself,
Their inner beings around them as they traverse,
Tread over boulders big and small,
Life as we see and life as we believe,
Changes meaning every other second,
And every other passing of day,
For life is simple,
Simple as water dropping down a stalactite,
For years and years until it forms another similar being like themselves,
Life has meanings in times like these,
Times of everyday,
Each day…..

Bleed

Kumar Harsh3 Comments

I bleed slowly on tattered bedsheets,
Of closely minced with dead meat,
Rotting, degenerating, infested with melamine ticks,
For my blood thickens and spreads unevenly over times before and after,
As I try finding myself,
Over the corpses of my dead dreams,
The desires gutted in slumber,
I cry for help,
For the end is not near…..

Cupid

Kumar Harsh3 Comments

I see small, minuscule pieces of myself,
Scattered over the glazed floors,
White marble on the roofs of euphoria,
A little over there and little beyond the cracks,
As sunlight burns some pieces,
The rain washes some,
The storm dirties them yet again,
And the autumn helps them shed their skin,
For a belief that stays with me,
On days when people walk over me,
And behemoth crushes my vision,
I will see you,
One day, beyond these days that have been altering me,
The course, rough edges that belittle into a perfect circle,
And bring me warmth and peace written somewhere in the myths,
Like Cupid and Psyche,
Forever and beyond,
A happy ever after…..

Time

Kumar Harsh3 Comments

If passion could speak,
And heartbeats could shout,
Ambitions could paint,
And desires could walk,
I would see for what’s invisible,
And feel the blood in my veins,
For dreams shape when we work,
It’s only a matter of time……

Drink

Kumar Harsh6 Comments

Love seems like a rainbow,
Filled with colors of the Sun,
It drips over me like it does over the others,
Slips down my shoulders when I am not looking,
Sometimes falls down my eyes over a memory that was pure,
An emotion true, an incident tragic,
It reflects the piercing, sharp parleys,
Off of my chest and into the open air,
For Love brings me life,
Reminds me that my heart is not made of stone,
And my skin that breathes slow symphonies,
Onto this canvas that I create,
Piece by piece and that changed colors with each gray of my hair,
If Love was perfect, it would be like light,
Simple, colorful, white,
But Love is not perfect,
It is the same as a falling down a waterfall,
Only to be caught by a branch thin,
That breaks off too soon,
Until someone holds on to you,
And keeps on choosing you,
As you fall together,
Infinitely, together,
Love is organic, slow, smooth like a fine whiskey,
You gotta keep on drinking…….

Real

Kumar Harsh7 Comments

I slowly walk towards you,
Following your footsteps,
Etched on pathways golden,
Petite, almost unnoticeable,
And follow your scent among all the unknowns,
For it takes a century of being,
To see what it is like to be a speck,
Amidst the dust that gathers on a runaway cloth,
I see you while darkness turns me upside down,
And inside out,
My fall and my rise,
My imagination almost running thin,
My ink that doesn’t spill,
They all ask one thing,
When would you be real?

Struggle

Kumar Harsh6 Comments

My day starts as the colossal struggle between my mind and my heart ends,
As I struggle, exerting every vein in my body,
A pain arises somewhere beneath my skin,
Gravitating through my toes and my fingertips and the little wrinkles that rest on my body,
For the day is new and the night shall be here soon,
I gather them all, my angels and my demons,
And I open my eyes,
For the day is new and the night shall be here soon……

Arms

Kumar Harsh13 Comments

I sleep with arms wide open,
For the air feels thin at nights,
When I am all alone on my bed,
That knows when I sleep,
When I wake up from nightmares that crawl over me,
As a realisation dawns upon me,
The bed is magnanimous for someone as timid as me,
I yearn for warmth that my sheets shall never provide,
The sound of rhythmic waves,
I turn on my speakers in nights like these,
For silence keeps me up,
And my bed pulls me down,
A crisis of the century,
An affair that must end,
Before I perish,
Or these arms through which blood still flows……

O mine….

Kumar Harsh5 Comments

O mine, O mine,
I wonder what it’s like to see,
To stumble down a stairway,
Of dreams, desires and all things sweet,
I cannot see the blurry eyes O mine,
Filled with clots if not ancient,
My insecurities, my helplessness and the shards of my ego O mine,
I sleep desperately over pavements,
To hear steps of strangers to sync with my heart,
But O mine, O dear mine, O sweetest mine,
They aren’t you,
For Dolus plays with my heart, my mind and my soul,
He finds happiness in sticking me with glasses sharp,
I bleed in snow,
I bleed in autumn,
And over days when the sun wakes up the little hummingbirds,
But my skin scaled, porous, heals my scars,
For new ones to grow,
I fall down the stairs, consciously,
O mine, O mine,
Can you catch me,
For just this once………….

I write….

Kumar Harsh11 Comments

A pain radiates from my ribs,
Slow to move, hard to touch,
The one my ghosts speak in days of my penury,
The cracks in my skin,
Ripples in my heart,
The pain usually subsides,
As Sunrises and Sunsets paint my room,
Over mountains ancient and over the clouds new,
Inches away from my bed I herewith reach for my pen,
Tuck neatly within pages of the old annals,
I sometimes write with my hands folded,
And sometimes with eyes that see beyond the stars,
For a pain that radiates sometimes through my umbra,
And onto the ink that fills my pen,
My words the lover, an affair of the century,
I write, I write, I write…..

New beginnings……

Kumar Harsh10 Comments

I rummage through the graveyard of dreams,
The lost desires and the will to see,
For sometimes I walk over puddles deep,
That source through my devils oh so grim,
The substances that had once belonged mine,
Determination, perseverance and that stubborn grit,
Sitting there idle gambling over the coffin of my skies,
I squat with them, shake hands and bulge them to take up their arms,
As I pick up mine,
For the world is mine and it is mine to see,
The roads traveled and the paths untrodden still,
My voices dumb and mute and unsound,
The frequencies lost in the shriek of the crowds,
For I shall shout and talk aloud,
The bastille of my insecurities shall break,
And bring back the silver in the skies,
And I shall see and see afar,
Farther than the fog and farther than the Equinox,
Till I can see thy self and say it aloud,
It was all worth it, the scars on my arms………

With this post I would like to inform you, my fellow writers of something that is really important to me. Another step towards my career. I have been selected as an inspector in the Customs and Excise Department, Government of India and will be serving the nation towards achieving a better taxation compliance and inclusion of better taxation literacy.

All of you have been really supportive to me and like an extended family that I’ve grown to know for the past 7 years since I had started blogging.

I thank you all for showing me the continued support and guiding me whenever I was lost.

This post is dedicated to all of you 😇😇😇

Thank you

Imperceptible

Kumar Harsh5 Comments

I slowly dwell into streets lit with amber,
That hold stories told over and over again,
Some of mine and some of yours,
The streets paved and unpaved,
Rough and smooth,

I see places filled with people,
Of times ancient, modern and new,
Hear them as they laugh and cry,
For them the time is just a day,
Age a unit of years passed,

I am fresh and old,
As I dwell into streets lit with amber,
And streets maligned with dark,
For I see beyond the stars,
The quantum of time,
Imperceptible…….

बस आज

Kumar Harsh7 Comments

तो क्या हुआ जो आसमाँ आज साफ़ नही,
हवाओं में कुछ गुमशुदा सा है,
कुछ भीगी भीगी सी आस है,
मद्धम सी चल रही नदियाँ हैं,

तो क्या हुआ नींद नहीं आ रही है,
करवटें बदल बदल के तुमने जो रातें काटी हैं,
ना रात गुज़र रही है,
सूरज जैसे कहीं छुपा सा है,

तो क्या हुआ जो रास्ते उलझे उलझे से,
शक के धुएँ में मंज़िल नज़र नहीं आती है,
मैं किस और जाऊँ,
क्या यही मेरी राह गुज़र है,

मैं सोचता सब हूँ,
सोचता शायद कुछ भी नहीं,
एक ख़याल ज़रूर आज आया है,
तो क्या हुआ जो नहीं मैं जो होना था,
जो हूँ शायद नहीं भी होता,
मगर यह ख़याल आज जाने दे,
की आज मैं मुझमें कुछ रहना चाहता हूँ,
की आज बस सोना चाहता हूँ…….

A regular man

Kumar Harsh7 Comments

I am a regular man,
Who feels the wind on his face,
The cold soft breeze,
Hot and thorny sometimes,
For I see through small viscera,
The fabric of time,
The minuscule, timid that intimidates me sometimes,
As I lay down to relax,
On my bed, my abode,
But I am a regular man,
That sleeps sometimes through the terrible storms,
And sometimes pick up a hammer to nail the wriggling seasoned doors on my facia,
Nothing much to hide,
Not much to show,
A plaid, straight old rhythm,
Somewhat like the Beethoven’s Für Elise,
Regular, easy….