क्या सरोकार अब किसी से मुझे / ज़िया जालंधरी

क्या सरोकार अब किसी से मुझे
वास्ता था तो था तुझी से मुझे

बे-हिसी का भी अब नहीं एहसास
क्या हुआ तेरी बे-रूख़ी से मुझे

मौत की आरज़ू भी कर देखो
क्या उम्मीदें थीं जिंदगी से मुझे

फिर किसी पर न ए‘तिबार आए
यूँ उतारो न अपने जी से मुझे

तेरा ग़म भी न हो तो क्या जीना
कुछ तसल्ली है दर्द ही से मुझे

कितना पुरकार हो गया हूँ कि था
वास्ता तेरी सादगी से मुझे

कर गए किस क़दर तबाह ‘ज़िया’
दुश्मन अंदाज़-ए-दोस्ती से मुझे

A Boy Named Sue / Shel Silverstein

Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honky tonks and bars and kill
that man that gave me that awful name.

But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty,
mangy dog that named me Sue.

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, 'My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die.' Yeah, that's what I told him.

Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.

And he said, 'Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong.'

Yeah, he said, 'Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to kill me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the guy that named you Sue.'
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.

काला मुंह / पद्मा सचदेव

मुझे तो किसी ने भी नहीं बताया कि
जीने की राह
गेहूं के खेत में से होकर जाती है
पर जैसे मां का दूध पीना मैंने
अपने आप सीख लिया
वैसे ही एक दिन
मैं घुटनियों चलती
गेहूं के खेत में जा पहुंची
गेहूं के साथ-साथ चने भी उगे हुए थे
मेरी मां ने
हरे-हरे चने गर्म राख में भूनकर
मुझे खाने को दिए
मैंने मुंह में चुभला कर
हंसते-हंसते फेंक दिए
अभी मेरे दांत भी नहीं आए थे
भुने हुए चनों से मेरा सारा मुंह
काला हो गया
काली लार टपकने लगी
मां ने तो मुझे यह नहीं बताया था
कि जब भी दो रोटियों की आशा में
कोई आगे बढ़ता है
उसका मुंह ज़रूर काला होता है!

Televised / Maya Angelou

Televised news turns
a half-used day into
a waste of desolation.
If nothing wondrous preceded
the catastrophic announcements,
certainly nothing will follow, save
the sad-eyed faces of
bony children,
distended bellies making
mock at their starvation.
Why are they always
Black?
Whom do they await?
The lamb-chop flesh
reeks and cannot be
eaten. Even the
green peas roll on my plate
unmolested. Their innocence
matched by the helpless
hope in the children's faces.
Why do Black children
hope ? Who will bring
them peas and lamb chops
and one more morning?

Bond and Free / Robert Frost

Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about-
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turn, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world's embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius' disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.

सपनें जो सोने ना दे... / देवेश कुमार पाण्डेय

कुछ सपने अधूरे नहीं होते
उड़ चलते है अपने हीं धुन में मगन
हक़ीकत से कोसों दूर पहुँच के,
फिर गुम हो जाते है अचानक से,
बाकी सपनों की तरह हीं।

पर किसी चौराहे पे नहीं गुम होते ये सपने,
या किसी समंदर में जा के नहीं गिरते।
बस छुप जाते है जैसे बादलों के बीच सूरज
और फिर बादल चाहे कितने भी काले इरादों के हो,
सूरज उनका सीना चीर निकल हीं आता है, मुस्कुराता।

पता नहीं क्या ख़ास होता है इन सपनों में,
होठों से मुस्कान चुरा कर आँखों मे ला देते हैं।
एक अलग हीं नशा, एक अलग हीं जुनून होता है,
जिसने एक बार देख लिया, कुछ और नहीं दिखता उसे।

दुनिया में सपनों के मतलब बताने वाले हजार हैं,
लॉजिक और दुनियादारी की बात करने वाले लोग।
पर सपनों की अपनी हीं एक दुनिया होती है,
जिसने सपना देखा हो,
उसके पास होता है उस दुनिया का पता।

थोड़ा वक्त लग सकता है, या फिर बहुत ज्यादा,
उस पते तक पहुँचने में।
पर वक्त से डर थोड़े ही लगा हैं,
कभी उन सपनीली आँखों को।

जो सपने आँखों में मुस्कान भरते हैं,
वो अलग होते है बाकी सपनों से,
और वो कभी अधूरे नहीं होते।

Circle and Square / Edwin Muir

‘I give you half of me;
No more, lest I should make
A ground for perjury.
For your sake, for my sake,
Half will you take?’

‘Half I’ll not take nor give,
For he who gives gives all.
By halves you cannot live;
Then let the barrier fall,
In one circle have all.’

“A wise and ancient scorner
Said to me once: Beware
The road that has no corner
Where you can linger and stare.
Choose the square.

‘And let the circle run
Its dull and fevered race.
You, my dear, are one;
Show your soul in your face;
Maintain your place.

‘Give, but have something to give.
No man can want you all.
Live, and learn to live.
When all the barriers fall
You are nothing at all.’