Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Shrivastva MK Mar 2018
Jis phul ne koi galati hi nahi ki, Use kis baat ki saza diya ja rha hai,
Es duniya me aane se pahle hi kyu use maar diya ja rha hai,

Ai Khuda kyu aise janwar ko tune banaya,
Ek chhoti kali ko pet me hi maar khud ko insaan btaya,

Na maaro us phul ko jisme us bhagwan ka hai waas,
Ek din aisa aayega jab ** jayega puri shristi ka naas

Arey nasamjh insaan sirf bete ki hi aas lagaoge,
To phir maa, behan aur dulhan kahan se paoge,

Mata-Pita ki galati ki saza us chhoti kali ko diya jata hai,
Ek chhote se andhere ghar me hi use maar diya jata hai,

Wo kali bhi baar baar unlogo se karti pukar,
Hey Maa-Baba mujhe pet me hi mat maar,

Ye duniya ek baar mujhe bhi dikha de,
Apne amrit ki ek ghunt mujhe bhi pila de,


Nanhi si jaan tou hai bekasoor,
Maar kar hi aakhir kyu milta hai pathar dilon ko suroor,

Wo bhi dekhna chahti hai duniya,
Janam lene se pehle hi Jaan gawani padti hai oo gudiya,

Apne hi hathon ukhed dete hai apne hi aangan ka phool,
Kaisa hai ye bereham logon ka usool,

Kismat wale hote hai wo insaan,
Jinki kokh mein dete hain betiyan bhagwaan,

Beti hai ishwar ka hai en anmol uphaar,
Jeene ka us nanhi jaan ko bhi hai adhikaar,

Sharam aati hai logo ki is ghatiya soch par,
Taras aata hai unpar
Jo apne hi ansh ka dete hain maar
Devi ka karte hain jo tiraskaar,

Banao ek naya usool
Beti ko karo qubool

Jeevan ka hai ye adhaar
Banta hai inhi se sansaar,

Likh us phul ka dard hamari aankhen bhar aai,
Teri banai duniya me O mera khuda ye teri kaisi khudai..
Ye teri kaisi khudai...


Collaboration by Manish Shrivastava and Sonia Paruthi
Ghazal Jun 2012
Flavored hukkas are passed around,
Alcohol and paan bring the mehfil alive,
The Ustad ji sits down and flexes his fingers,
He knows he’ll be working all night.

Dha dhin dhin dha, dha dhin dhin dha
Na tin tin ta
Ta dhin dhin dha,
Move the Ustad ji’s fingers on the tabla.

While with a veil on her face,
And feet dipped in and henna-colored,
Lips in cheap red lipstick covered,
She unfalteringly, gracefully enters.

Her steps are matched by the chhan chhan
of the ghungroos tied around her ankles so slender.
Eyes set on her, feast on her youth,
Just right for the taste of all her customers.

Bejeweled hands placed on waist,
She stands at the centre of attention,
She lifts a foot, readies to dance,
And begins the nightly convention.

Skillfully, perfectly, sensuously move
Feet well-trained since childhood days,
Harmonizing with the timbre
That the Ustad ji creates.

Tin tin na dhin na dhin na
On the tabla, experienced fingers beat.
Chhan chhan chhan chhan,
She dances, repeating the rhythm with her feet.

Metal bells strike against one another
And chhan chhan chhan-a chhan she goes,
Making breaths prance and jump,
As she strikes on the ground her heels and toes.

Then suddenly she stops and gasps,
Over disgruntled, impatient groans she tries
to hear the sound that flows in, only to her ears.
Several rooms away, a baby cries.

Naach! A voice booms,
Arey naach! More join in.
A glass of wine is shattered by an irritated one.
But she stands still, clutching her chest, frozen.

One sways up to where she stands,
For the veil covering her face, his hands dive.
He uncovers her, but is blinded by the sight of her beauty
And her tears that fill her kajal-smeared eyes.

She’s shaken back to reality as she looks all around.
Her sparkling pall is off her face.
She sees all those drunk men who’ve paid to watch her dance.
She knows she has to make the sound of the cries fade away.

So she stomps her feet on the ground till it hurts.
Hair flying out of braid, bangles clanging,
Anguish replaces her innocent loveliness,
The music in the air is now shrill,  jarring.

Her steps match with the tabla’s rhythm no more.
But she dances, planting her feet so hard they weep.
She silences every sound with the noise of her ghungroos,
Praying that the night will lull her wailing son to sleep.
hukka- hubble bubble
paan- a food made from a betel leaf folded round pieces of betel nut and spices, that you chew like candy
mehfil- a gathering of people
ustad- a title of respect for someone who is very skillful, especially a musician
ji- used to show respect for someone
tabla- an Indian percussion instrument
henna- flowering plant used to dye the skin
ghungroo- a musical anklet tied to the feet of Indian classical dancers
naach- dance
kajal- kohl
Lb Feb 2014
It's in the essence of the sadness that I wallow
Deep in the depths of the melancholy valleys
Each breath a patient arey countdown awaiting such an urgent end
It's the great escape
It's the oxycotton
They're the air bubbles in the drip
They're the spiders in my veins trying to break free
It's the remedy for now
Dr K S Bhardwaj May 2020
"Arey O Bumble Bee!
I Always Greet Thee,
Why're You So Restless,
Spend Little Time With Me."


Bumble Bee Replied,
"Juice Sucker I Am
****. Then I Leave
Not At All Restless I Am.”

Rose Said With Grim Voice,
“Noted For Future Use,
Shall Be Very Careful
That No More You Misuse.
Readers To Muse On The Contents Of The Poes.

— The End —