Home is not made home by the size of it
But of how many family members smile lit
Home is not made home by the big compound and cars
But of family members residing in peace not in wars.
There have been palaces of cries and loss
But hut in squatters filled with mirth
Though people in hut live in dearth
They borrow money and goods not characters of cuss.
Home is where we snuggle in safety
Though it’s clean, dim, bright or dirty
So we must reside in our home like royals
For palace be in cool place or boiling vales.
Home has its own tales
The bigger storied house bigger the story
Is just disproportionate
Even rented apartment has story to tell
And at last, Home is not just a place to live on
It is where nation’s future is decided on
So behave yourself in your haven
And build your character among the eleven.
If mom were barbers
Daily if not weekly
Guys had to trim hair
And couldn’t keep the beard.
By the look of face
All society would seem same and kempt
As girls and boys could only be differentiated
By the length of the hair
If mom were barbers
Don’t expect they would not charge fee
For occasional threading, they have to visit beauty parlour
And the service there is also not for free.
So mummys would be self employed
But barbers in town would go unemployed
And anyway fathers would not feel happy
For to pay moms, sons have to ask father’s money
And our unmarried sisters would be intern
For they would also need money in future
So let barbers be barbers and mom be mom
Else we will have to deal with hair in our lunch
Or worse fathers may take the course of beautician.
A gardener provides with plant and flower
A restauraneur feeds with food and water
A doctor services with his medical expertise
But mothers perform all of these.
A locksmith mends the lock and keys
A farmer plants ladyfinger and also the peas
A plumber repairs and fixes pipe
Our fathers also engage in these day to day life.
Despite as an adult and their pride and prestige
I don’t perform these above duties
I only provide my family with sermons
As I am the priest of the battalion.
So, I don’t go for war
I only bless my pupils.
I donot know the song
But I hum the music
I donot know sports
But I represent my country.
I don’t know to dance
But I flow my body
I am not a musician
But I am aware of the music.
I am not a wind
But I whiz in space
I don’t play in movies
But I perform acting.
I am not a god
Although I provide blessings
I am not human either
I am bird who is constantly flying.
The bee has come to our garden
It moves from one flower to other
Searching for nectar in the flowers
But didn’t get the sugary fluid it wanted.
Finally, it found one with the scent
But he could not figure out the gate
To pierce through green calyx to fetch
The honey making ingredient.
Then again he roamed through the bloom
Finally he found the marigold with whom
He mingled to take out the juice
And now rewards the colony with its fruits
Finally, the honey will be made
The queen bee in hive will be fed
But worker bee contribution should be always remembered
They are like the farmers who harvest for human, birds and animals.
People keep on changing form
They are like clouds of autumn
Although not similarly similar
But aren’t they beautiful to watch for viewers
But people’s mind are difficult to catch
And you can’t predict what form will human mind snatch and metamorphose
So humans mind pose more danger to close cantons
But may be so does clouds
It is always beautiful to watch from afar
Ask the sky, the sun and the stars
But that is where beauty lies
In changing forms, so just change the views of the eyes.
Roles change in life
Girls become wife
Boys perform as husband
We become parents.
And one day suddenly
We want back our mummy and daddy
But we can’t bring them back again
So we see them in the form of our children
They would also be our friend, like our mummy and daddy
And we’d share our problems to our sons
And daughters like we used to do with daddy and mummy
In old age people say we get childish
So we need parents in the form of children
That is ‘why we marry’ perhaps
This’s what I’d say when somebody asks.
The evening I was waiting for has arrived
Yesterday I had written poems this very time
But today I don’t have many words to express the delight
Of this wonderful waning daylight
But I still observe the sunset going down the hills
Watch birds fly above the sky and throw away the yestrdays ills
I see my father coming back from the mill
I am delighted to see these wonderful scenes.
सायरी करता हु लेकिन सायर हुँ नही
प्रेम करता हु मगर प्रेमी कहलाता नही
जज्वाअो को बस उतारता हु जज्वाती (हुँ) नही
जेसेे कि मे यही हुँ, फिर भी मेरा पता और कही
दुनियाँ मै जाने कौन क्या हे
देख्ते एक है सभी
सब चिटी ही है तो हम दूर तारो से
कल हो आज हो या अभी