Javed Akhtar's poems in Zindagi Milegi Na Dobara

Pighlay neelam sa behta hua yeh sama,
Neeli neeli si khamoshiyan;
Na kahin hai zameen,
Na kahin aasmaan;
Sarsaraati hui tehniyaan, pattiyaan;
Keh rahi hain ki bas ek tum ho yahaan,
Sirf main hoon, meri saansein hain, aur meri dhadkanein;
Aisi gehraiyaan,
Aisi tanhaiyaan,
Aur main sirf main
Apne honay pe mujhko yaqeen aa gaya…

This moment flows by like liquid sapphire
Silence like the blueness of the sea
No Earth below,
No Sky above.
The rustling of the branches and leaves
Whispering that only you are here
Only me, My breath, and my heartbeat
Depth like this (moment),
Loneliness like this (moment)
And me only me
And now I believe… I exist

Ik baat honton tak hai jo aayi nahi,
Bas ankhon say hai jhaankti,
Tumse kabhi, mujhse kabhi,
Kuch lafz hain woh maangti,
Jinko pehanke honton tak aa jaaye woh,
Aawaaz ki baahon mein baahein daalke ithlaye woh
Lekin jo yeh ik baat hai,
Ehsaas hi ehsaas hai…
Khushboo si hai jaise hawa mein tairti,
Khushboo jo be-aawaaz hai;
Jiska pata tumko bhi hai,
Jiski khabar mujhko bhi hai;
Duniya se bhi chupta nahin,
Yeh jaane kaisa raaz hai.

The truth that almost come to my lips
Is clear from my eyes
Sometimes from you, sometimes from me
It asks for words
To give it structure and come to my lips
To dance in the embrace of my voice
But this truth
Is a feeling, just a feeling…
Like a fragrance it floats in air,
A mute fragrance,
That you know is there,
That I know is there,
And is not hidden from this world,
What kind of secret is this?

Jab jab dard ka baadal chaya
Jab ghum ka saya lehraya
Jab aansoo palkon tak aya
Jab yeh tanha dil ghabraya
Humne dil ko yeh samjhaya
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai
Duniya mein yunhi hota hai.
Yeh jo gehre sannaate hain
Waqt ne sabko hi baante hain
Thoda ghum hai sabka qissa
Thodi dhoop hai sabka hissa
Aankh teri bekaar hi namm hai
Har pal ek naya mausam hai
Kyun tu aise pal khota hai
Dil aakhir tu kyun rota hai

Whenever the cloud of pain loomed
Whenever the shadow of suffering threatened
Whenever tears filled my eyes
Whenever this lonely heart was afraid
I consoled my heart
Why do you cry for my heart?
This happens everywhere in this world
These dark lonely moments.
Time has distributed them to all.
Some sadness is a part of everyone’s story,
Some sunshine a part of everyone’s life
You cry for an unworthy reason,
Every moment is a new season
Why do you lose your precious moments,
Why do you cry for my heart?

Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum;
Nazar mein khwabon ki bijliyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum;
Hawa ke jhokon ke jaise aazad rehno sikho,
Tum ek dariya ke jaise lehron mein behna sikho,
Har ek lamhe se tum milo khole apni bhaayein,
Har ek pal ek naya samha dekhen yeh nigahaein,
Jo apni aankhon mein hairaniyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum;
Dilon mein tum apni betaabiyan leke chal rahe ho
Toh zinda ho tum;

If you carry impatience in your heart then you are alive
If you carry the sparkle of dreams in your eyes then you are alive
Learn to live like the gust of wind
Learn to flow like the stream among the waves
Receive every moment in life with open arms
See every moment as a new beginning
If you carry surprise in your eyes then you are alive
If you carry impatience in your heart then you are alive

Javed Akhtar in Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

Around the Corner

by : by Charles Hanson Towne
1877-1949, written in 1900


Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end,
Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
And before I know it, a year is gone.

And I never see my old friends face,
For life is a swift and terrible race,
He knows I like him just as well,
As in the days when I rang his bell.

And he rang mine but we were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men.
Tired of playing a foolish game,
Tired of trying to make a name.

"Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim
Just to show that I'm thinking of him",
But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
And distance between us grows and grows.

Around the corner, yet miles away,
"Here's a telegram sir," "Jim died today."
And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
Around the corner, a vanished friend.

[My friend Vivek Rajashekar recommended I bookmark this one. I took the hint and met him last weekend :)]

Invictus - William Earnest Henley

If No One Ever Marries Me

If no one ever marries me --
And I don't see why they should,
For nurse says I'm not pretty,
And I'm seldom very good --

If no one ever marries me
I shan't mind very much,
I shall buy a squirrel in a cage
And a little rabbit-hutch;

I shall have a cottage near a wood,
And a pony all my own,
And a little lamb, quite clean and tame,
That I can take to town.

And when I'm getting really old --
At twenty-eight or nine --
I shall buy a little orphan-girl
And bring her up as mine.

by Lawrence Alma-Tadema

The Clock of Life by Robert H Smith

   The clock of life is wound but once
  And no man has the power
  To tell just where the hands will stop,
  At late or early hour.

  To lose one's wealth is sad indeed,
  To lose one's health is more.
  To lose one's soul is such a loss
  As no man can restore.

  The present only is our own.
  Live, love, toil with a will.
  Place no faith in 'tomorrow'
  For the clock may then be still.

पथ की पहचान


पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

पुस्तकों में है नहीं
छापी गई इसकी कहानी
हाल इसका ज्ञात होता
है न औरों की जबानी

अनगिनत राही गए
इस राह से उनका पता क्या
पर गए कुछ लोग इस पर
छोड़ पैरों की निशानी

यह निशानी मूक होकर
भी बहुत कुछ बोलती है
खोल इसका अर्थ पंथी
पंथ का अनुमान कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

यह बुरा है या कि अच्छा
व्यर्थ दिन इस पर बिताना
अब असंभव छोड़ यह पथ
दूसरे पर पग बढ़ाना

तू इसे अच्छा समझ
यात्रा सरल इससे बनेगी
सोच मत केवल तुझे ही
यह पड़ा मन में बिठाना

हर सफल पंथी यही
विश्वास ले इस पर बढ़ा है
तू इसी पर आज अपने
चित्त का अवधान कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

है अनिश्चित किस जगह पर
सरित गिरि गह्वर मिलेंगे
है अनिश्चित किस जगह पर
बाग वन सुंदर मिलेंगे

किस जगह यात्रा खतम हो
जाएगी यह भी अनिश्चित
है अनिश्चित कब सुमन कब
कंटकों के शर मिलेंगे

कौन सहसा छू जाएँगे
मिलेंगे कौन सहसा
आ पड़े कुछ भी रुकेगा
तू न ऐसी आन कर ले।

पूर्व चलने के बटोही बाट की पहचान कर ले।

Harivansh Rai Bachchan

Since, this is my first post, its apt that I start with the introduction that means parichay..
परिचय

सलिल कण हूँ, या पारावार हूँ मैं

स्वयं छाया, स्वयं आधार हूँ मैं

बँधा हूँ, स्वपन हूँ, लघु वृत हूँ मैं

नहीं तो व्योम का विस्तार हूँ मैं

समाना चाहता है, जो बीन उर में

विकल उस शुन्य की झनंकार हूँ मैं

भटकता खोजता हूँ, ज्योति तम में

सुना है ज्योति का आगार हूँ मैं

जिसे निशि खोजती तारे जलाकर

उसीका कर रहा अभिसार हूँ मैं

जनम कर मर चुका सौ बार लेकिन

अगम का पा सका क्या पार हूँ मैं

कली की पंखुडीं पर ओस-कण में

रंगीले स्वपन का संसार हूँ मैं

मुझे क्या आज ही या कल झरुँ मैं

सुमन हूँ, एक लघु उपहार हूँ मैं

मधुर जीवन हुआ कुछ प्राण! जब से

लगा ढोने व्यथा का भार हूँ मैं

रुंदन अनमोल धन कवि का, इसी से

पिरोता आँसुओं का हार हूँ मैं

मुझे क्या गर्व हो अपनी विभा का

चिता का धूलिकण हूँ, क्षार हूँ मैं

पता मेरा तुझे मिट्टी कहेगी

समा जिस्में चुका सौ बार हूँ मैं

न देंखे विश्व, पर मुझको घृणा से

मनुज हूँ, सृष्टि का श्रृंगार हूँ मैं

पुजारिन, धुलि से मुझको उठा ले

तुम्हारे देवता का हार हूँ मैं

सुनुँ क्या सिंधु, मैं गर्जन तुम्हारा

स्वयं युग-धर्म की हुँकार हूँ मैं

कठिन निर्घोष हूँ भीषण अशनि का

प्रलय-गांडीव की टंकार हूँ मैं

दबी सी आग हूँ भीषण क्षुधा का

दलित का मौन हाहाकार हूँ मैं

सजग संसार, तू निज को सम्हाले

प्रलय का क्षुब्ध पारावार हूँ मैं

बंधा तुफान हूँ, चलना मना है

बँधी उद्याम निर्झर-धार हूँ मैं

कहूँ क्या कौन हूँ, क्या आग मेरी

बँधी है लेखनी, लाचार हूँ मैं ।।

रामधारी सिंह 'दिनकर'

शक्ति और क्षमा !

कवि: रामधारी सिंह "दिनकर"

क्षमा, दया, तप, त्याग, मनोबल, सबका लिया सहारा
पर नर व्याघ सुयोधन तुमसे, कहो कहाँ कब हारा?

क्षमाशील हो ॠपु-सक्षम, तुम हुये विनीत जितना ही
दुष्ट कौरवों ने तुमको, कायर समझा उतना ही

क्षमा शोभती उस भुजंग को, जिसके पास गरल है
उसका क्या जो दंतहीन, विषरहित विनीत सरल है

तीन दिवस तक पंथ मांगते, रघुपति सिंधु किनारे
बैठे पढते रहे छन्द, अनुनय के प्यारे प्यारे

उत्तर में जब एक नाद भी, उठा नही सागर से
उठी अधीर धधक पौरुष की, आग राम के शर से

सिंधु देह धर त्राहि-त्राहि, करता आ गिरा शरण में
चरण पूज दासता गृहण की, बंधा मूढ़ बन्धन में

सच पूछो तो शर में ही, बसती है दीप्ति विनय की
संधिवचन सम्पूज्य उसीका, जिसमे शक्ति विजय की

सहनशीलता, क्षमा, दया को, तभी पूजता जग है
बल का दर्प चमकता उसके, पीछे जब जगमग है !

I Won't Say A Word by Arden Davidson

I Won't Say A Word - Arden Davidson

There are words I'm not allowed to say.
I really don't know why.
But once when I said one of them,
I made my mother cry.

I'm still not quite sure what it meant.
(It slipped out unexpected).
But my mother told my father,
and for now, I'm not respected.

My father told my neighbor
and my neighbor told his kid.
Now I'm an outcast at my school
and I don't know what I did!

The school told everyone in town,
that bad word that I said.
Now my preacher told my father
that I need help in the head.

I'll never use that word again.
I'll lament and I'll repent.
I only wish I had a clue
what the heck that darn word meant!

Good one this... :)

http://infochangeindia.org/kids/poems_01.php - and more good ones here

I'm Sick Of Learning Lochinvar
Sampurna Chattarji

I’m sick of learning Lochinvar,
I’m sick of Robert Frost,
Kept stopping by those snowy woods –
Why didn’t he go get lost?

And daffodils and babbling brooks,
I don’t care if they’re pretty,
I’d rather read a wicked poem
About living in my city.

I don’t mind the Highwayman
With that hat upon his brow!
But all that happened long ago,
Doesn’t anyone write about now?

If someone ever asked me
(As if someone ever would!)
I’d tell them what I’d like
To make a poem good.

I’d like a poem about my dog,
Ringitt is his name
(And Ringitt is a currency –
Didn’t know that – what a shame!)

Or a poem about my sister’s friend
(The two of them are three)
Who comes over to our house
Only when she wants to pee.

Or perhaps a really serious one
About dragons and dragonflies
A poem with really serious facts
Instead of only lies.

No poems about pirates please,
I’d prefer one on sport.
Or a super genius child who
Invented a game of thought.

But who’s listening and where can I
Find such poems on the shelf?
Who cares, I know a better way –
I’ll write them all myself!

Cloths of Heaven - WB Yeats

HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

Ben Jonson (1572 – 1637) - To Celia

Drink to me, only, with thine eyes,

And I will pledge with mine;

Or leave a kiss but in the cup,

And I’ll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise

Doth ask for a drink divine;

But might I of Jove’s nectar sup,

I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath,

Not so much honouring thee

As giving it a hope that there

It could not wither’d be;

But thou thereon didst only breathe,

And sent’st it back to me;

Since when it grows, and smells, I swear,

Not of itself, but Thee.

Robert Frost's "Fire and Ice"

Some say the world will end in fire;
Some say in ice.
From what I've tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To know that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.

Rangaswamy and the Tiger

Rangaswamy and the Tiger... HILARIOUS...

Deep in jungle I am went
On shooting Tiger I am bent
Bugger Tiger has eaten wife
No doubt I avenge poor darling's life
Too much quiet, snakes and leeches
But am not feared these sons of beeches
Hearing loud noise I am jump with start
But noise is coming from damn fool heart
Taking care not to be fright
I am clutching rifle with eye to sight
Should Tiger come I will fall him down
Then like hero return to native town
Then through trees I am espying one cave
I am telling self - "Rangaswamy be brave"
I now proceed with too much care
From nonsense smell this Tiger's lair
My leg is shake, I start to pray
I think I shoot Tiger some other day
Turning round I am going to go
But Tiger giving bloody roar
He bounding from cave like shooting star
I commend my soul to Kali Ma
Through the jungle I am went
Like bullet with Tiger hot on scent
Mighty Tiger rave and rant
Rangaswamy shit in pant!
Must to therefore leave the jungle
Killing Tiger one big bungle!!
I am telling that never in life
I will risk again for damn fool wife

Nominated poem....

This poem was nominated poem of 2005 for the best poem, written by an
African kid.........amazing thought!!!



When I born, I Black, When I grow up, I Black,
When I go in Sun, I Black, When I scared, I Black,
When I sick, I Black, And when I die, I still black..
And you White fella,
When you born, you Pink, When you grow up, you White,
When you go in Sun, you Red, When you cold, you Blue,
When you scared, you Yellow, When you sick, you Green,
And when you die, you Gray..
And you calling me Colored ?

How do I love thee? ---Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints!---I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!---and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE---MARLOWE

COME live with me, and be my love;
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dales and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies;
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair-lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and ivy-buds,
With coral clasps and amber-studs:
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.

The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May-morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

REPLY TO MARLOWE
IF all the world and love were young,
And truth in every shepherd's tongue,
These pretty pleasures might me move
To live with thee and be thy love.

Time drives the flocks from field to fold,
When rivers rage and rocks grow cold;
And Philomel becometh dumb;
The rest complains of cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields:
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

The gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses,
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies
Soon break, soon wither, soon forgotten,—
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

Thy belt of straw and ivy buds,
Thy coral clasps and amber studs,
All these in me no means can move
To come to thee and be thy love.

But could youth last and love still breed,
Had joys no date nor age no need,
Then these delights my mind might move
To live with thee and be thy love.

THE LAST BUG

Another one from GNU humour
http://www.gnu.org/fun/jokes/last.bug.html

   THE LAST BUG

"But you're out of your mind,"
They said with a shrug.
"The customer's happy;
What's one little bug?"

But he was determined.
The others went home.
He spread out the program,
Deserted, alone.

The cleaning men came,
The whole room was cluttered
With memory-dumps, punch cards.
"I'm close," he muttered.

The mumbling got louder,
Simple deduction,
"I've got it, it's right,
Just change one instruction."

It still wasn't perfect,
As year followed year,
And strangers would comment,
"Is that guy still here?"

He died at the console,
Of hunger and thirst.
Next day he was buried,
Face down, nine-edge first.

And the last bug in sight,
An ant passing by,
Saluted his tombstone,
And whispered, "Nice try."

Giving

Read this beautiful piece called "On Giving" from "The Prophet" by Khalil Gibran below - may you be inspired to give freely

Giving

Then said a rich man, "Speak to us of Giving."

And he answered:

You give but little when you give of your possessions.

It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.

For what are your possessions but things you keep and guard for fear you may need them tomorrow?

And tomorrow, what shall tomorrow bring to the over-prudent dog burying bones in the trackless sand as he follows the pilgrims to the holy city?

And what is fear of need but need itself?

Is not dread of thirst when your well is full, the thirst that is unquenchable?

There are those who give little of the much which they have - and they give it for recognition and their hidden desire makes their gifts unwholesome.

And there are those who have little and give it all.

These are the believers in life and the bounty of life, and their coffer is never empty.

There are those who give with joy, and that joy is their reward;

And there are those who give with pain, and that pain is their baptism.

And there are those give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;

They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth.

It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked, through understanding;

And to the open-handed the search for one who shall receive is joy greater than giving.

And is there aught you would withhold?

All you have shall some day be given;

Therefore give now, that the season of giving may be yours and not your inheritors'.

You often say, 'I would give, but only to the deserving.'

The trees in your orchard say not so, nor the flocks in your pasture.

They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.

Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights is worthy of all else from you.

And he who has deserved to drink from the ocean of life deserves to fill his cup from your little stream.

And what desert greater shall there be, than that which lies in the courage and the confidence, nay the charity, of receiving?

And who are you that men should rend their bosom and unveil their pride, that you may see their worth naked and their pride unabashed?

See first that you yourself deserve to be a giver, and an instrument of giving.

For in truth it is life that gives unto life - while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness.

And you receivers - and you are all receivers - assume no weight of gratitude, lest you lay a yoke upon yourself and upon him who gives.

Rather rise together with the giver on his gifts as on wings;

For to be overmindful of your debt is to doubt his generosity who has the free-hearted earth for mother, and God for father.

A Networkologist's Christmas

Itz Chrissttmaasss ! ... so herez one from the GNU project.
http://www.gnu.org/fun/jokes/networkologist.html

A Networkologist's Christmas (v3.1)
" 'Tis the night before Christmas," , I thought with a frown.
I was stuck at the office.  The network was down.
The  routers were hung in the closet, all crashed.
Their tables had holes in their data, all trashed.
Remote distribution, it seems, just for fun,
had erased DLLs Windows needed to run,
on 84 desktops, way down in accounting.
I sat stunned at my desk, my blood pressure mounting.
When all of a sudden there arose such a clatter,
I saw that a server had something the matter.
There was smoke coming out of the main hard disk drive.
"No problem,"  I thought, "I'm set up with RAID 5.".
But I found out the system I thought was unstoppable
had disk drives that turned out completely unswappable!
"No problem," I thought, "I've tape backup to thank.".
And then I discovered my backups were blank.
The UPS burped, and its lights all went out.
I started to scream!  I started to shout!
But nobody heard as I vented my rage,
my gurus were all on vacation those days,
and nobody's tech support answered the phone.
I was nose deep in trouble, completely alone,
when out at reception, I heard a soft knock.
As the hands just touched midnight on my desktop clock...
"What's your problem?", he asked,
"Never mind, friend, I know.
I checked out your network five hours ago.
I did some proactive analysis, so
I knew that this time bomb was going to blow."
Who was this guy?  Who did he think that he was?
He was dressed in red coveralls, white beard, black gloves.
His eyes had the twinkle of technical genius.
His smile cut down personal distance between us.
He spread out his tools, and went straight to his work.
"Whoever configured this network's a jerk.",
he said with a :-)> as he quickly rebooted,
uploaded some software, and smoothly rerouted
the LAN to a WAN that he quickly supplied
with bandwidth at least 20 gigabits wide
that went via wireless, I think, LEO,
to tech support elves waiting at the North Pole.
"Now bridging, now routing, now Ethernet hubs!",
He chanted as each piece of hardware he rubbed.
"Cheer up, my good friend!
Lose that mindset so tragic!
Technology often looks just like some magic
To people who don't understand what we do.
Now a switch, emulation, now middleware glue!
Look at the protocols, check one or two,
Debug a bit, test a bit, presto!  We're through!"
My data was back!  Every system checked out!
Tears of joy wet my face as I wandered about.
"How can I thank you?  You must be Saint Nick!"
He said, "Really, my friend, it's not such a great trick,
If you don't give up hope, focus on what you're doing,
And read all your issues of NETWORK COMPUTING."
And I heard him exclaim, as his reindeer were coursing,
"Merry Christmas to all!   And consider outsourcing!"
    -by Timothy Haight