Lights' Festivity | Deepavali

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My eyes illuminated, from the widespread festive fervor that tingled deep into veins.

My city Oh Lord; engrossed with energy, wrapped in arms of symbolic victory of good deeds over evils, stands aloud in the stillness of darkness.

Crackles and shouts; celebrations of joy! of togetherness and solidarity; the emblem of illumed country land.

With offerings of salvations, and courage to endorse truth, I lift glint from my heart, and protrude it into a lamplight.

My lamplight to stay glowing; shadows to escape, and gleams of enlightenment in my soul to rejuvenate, are the words I shall keep in my pray.


Elicitation

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अश्को के समंदर में,
बेपनाह प्यास से,
बेवफा प्यार में तेरी 
जल रहा हूँ मैं.

टूट के छितराए

अरमानो के टुकरों पर,
हर डग खून सींच रहा हु मैं.

कातिल तेरे खंजर की

चोट से बढ़कर ,
तेरी यादों की लौ में 
जल रहा हूँ मैं....


(C) Anshul Gautam

Home!!! | Gharaonda...

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घर की याद तो आती थी,
आंसू छलक भी जाते थे;
लफ़्ज़ों में हाल बयां ना करते,
पर दर्शक समझ ही जाते थे.

हमारी तेज़ और स्पर्धा को
नयी उचाइयां जो देनी थी,
कुछ अधूरे ख्वाब थे हमारे,
पुराने कुर्ते के फटे जेब थे सारे;
इनको नया जो करना था,
अम्बर से प्रकाश को लाना था.
घर की झोली कम पर जाती
तो हौसला अपने अन्दर ही भर लिए;
मैं फिर आऊंगा की दस्तक छोर कर
घर से दूर हम निकल लिए.

वर्ष कितने ऐसे ही बीते;
संघर्ष में सनी स्याही से,
हम इतिहास के नये पन्ने भरते.
घर की बिलखती यादों को शांत कर
ह्रदय कठोर, हौसला ठान कर,
मैं जल्द आऊंगा के गीत गा कर,
मंजिलों की ओर हम बढ़ते रहते.
  
अपने आंगन से दूर रह कर,
विशाल गगन में अपनी छाप छोर कर,
आज चंद सितारे तोड़ लाया हूँ;
घर से दूर रह कर
अंधकार जो हमने देखा था,
हिम्मतों की खरी लौ में आज,
अमर दीपक जला कर लाया हूँ.

मंजिलों को हासिल करके,
कुछ और नये ख्वाब देख के,
हौसला कुछ और समेट ले आया हूँ;
नए धुनों में अपने गीत भर कर,
अपनी आवाज़ में गुनगुना रहा हूँ.
माँ के पास आज लौटने,
घर वापस मैं जा रहा हूँ...

घर वापस मैं जा रहा हूँ…




/*     I want to dedicate this poem to my lovely Father. What sort of days we have seen together, living away from our own home, for consecutive five years almost, they can' be described in words. However I just tried to present a glimpse in this poem. This is for the first time in my life when I have tried to write a poem in Hindi. I can speak, but honestly, I am very weak at writing Hindi. But still, I have tried.
And my Dad; he is very happy on being back to our home town, back to our home. My mom and me; we glad on seeing him happy. :))     */

'1920' : My Curiosity Returns

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Unlike the way the title of this post throws an impression, I am not concerned about any historic event that took place. Rather, ‘1920 : Evil Returns’, is a recent Bollywood horror movie, released as sequel to ‘1920’, which was released in 2008. I don’t think there is any kind of connection, and I treat both parts as independent movies. This time our talented thriller and horror specialist (at least I consider him to be one), Mr. Vikram Bhatt chose to produce the film, rather than directing it. Although the story has been written by Vikram Bhatt himself, but Mr. Bhushan Patel did the direction. And I loved his work. I would have enjoyed a lot more, if girls in cinema hall screamed a bit less. :P



I am not a professional critic. But I think that when we ought to watch some creativity, our expressions yield reactions automatically. I don’t watch horror movies to get scared, and never judge the script, acting and direction depending on how much scared I got. I look for creativity in the story, and how it was executed in the movie. And when it comes to horror movies, I think the domain of presentation becomes very narrow. And this is why we often come across the same sequences, almost similar, in every story. There are various movies, not just in Bollywood, who fail to present the 'invisible' in a creative manner. Their way of presentation is almost same in every movie. :O

You would be amazed, that the so called super horror movie : 'The Exorcist (1973)' was even based on several stories that went by at that time. Today there are many movies who portray several sections of  ‘The Exorcist’ modifying it to some extent. And ‘1920: Evil Returns’ is no exception. I clearly got to recognize the sequences; where they have been extracted from, and how they modified them.

The best thing in ‘1920 :Evil Returns’ is the music. The background score is mind blowing. Even the story line is good, but it gets pace only in second half of the movie. The new girl I saw there (May be I didn't watch any of her previous movies), Tia Bajpai, has done acting tremendously well. There was nothing too difficult in the story line for Aftab Shivdasani. So you will find him in the same mood, from start and till the end.

Other than several technical aspects, I concluded that the movie was worth watching.  :))

Stillness

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I listen to the stillness
I witness purity at dawn
I listen to gentle rain
I watch the awnless lawn.

With my eyes closed
I try to feel
Sudden rush of chillness,
Stillness in weather’s appeal.

My bare feet lead me 
To the last bench I see,
No one is in park
Just stillness in bevy.

Only rain on them sound
Barky trees don’t sway,
Stillness have cursed them
Just still they stay.

It reminds me of a picture
Once I hung on my wall,
Black demons were all around
White man stood still in thrall.

What I see, Is it photo-frame’s ordeal?
Or is it me inside it, alive and surreal?
Demons have stolen all the colors
Caged me in arms of stillness.

I will push through
The stillness stilled,
Demons turn weak
Once the Sun is unveiled.

I run; fast and quick
Stillness freezes me at halfway
But I still can see and feel,
Stillness in the next picture on my wall.




Sneaky Tales : Rejection

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I always wake up, and my breath becomes heavy. As of now, I am still feeling heavy, as tattered notes from the last dream come across my mind. And for past four years, waking up, and facing the reality has actually hurt. The cold realization, that I am still there, from where everyone else moved away, sets inside me slowly. I am not fond of waking up. And I tend to sleep, even when I am not asleep. Waking up from your dreams, and waking up from your sleep, I take these two things separately. I have set my own ways of treatment with them.

I am afraid, but optimistic locutions don’t impress me. Whenever I have tried to apply them, they have lead me to nowhere but lost away in vain. Why do people greet the day with smiles? Are they escaping from the simple truth? Today is a cold reminder. It’s one day later than yesterday, one year later than last year. And sooner or later, the destined one will come. But I dare not express these. I need to polish myself each day, so that I may not yell out everything that I have kept inside.

I have been a heap of thoughts and convicted feelings that bring me rejection. Rejection has been a part of my life, and I faced it more than acceptance. The one writing this is the real one. It takes me sometime, each day, to turn what I am in front of people. It takes courage to hide the storm inside you. And once you have spilled out the storm, you ruin your relationships. I have ruined mine. I have untied all the knots that used to bind me. People won’t like to get drenched in your stuffs that don’t suit them.