एक वीर को श्रद्धान्ज़ली- Late Santosh Koli

सो जा बहना, सो जा,
तुझे न दुनिया भुलाएगी,
तूने जो की आरम्भ,
क्रांति वो आएगी,
आएगा बदलाव वो,
जैसा तूने सोचा,
लायेंगे तूफ़ान हम,
सोजा, चैन से सोजा.

अभी होती जुंग शुरू,
अभी तो आगाज़ है,
हमे देगी प्रेरणा,
तेरी वो आवाज़ है,
तेरी शहादत जाया न होगी,
लेते शपथ हम है,
थमेगी तेरी न ये कथा,
ज़िंदा अभी हम है,
लेके रहेंगे हम जवाब,
तेरे हर सवाल का,
पूरा करेंगे ख्वाब हम,
तेरे हर ख्याल का,
झुकेंगे अब हम नहीं,
रुकेगा न ये काफिला,
लहरों पे चढ़ कर आयेंगे,
फतह करेंगे उनका किला,
तेरी सूरत, तेरे बोल,
अब हमारे अस्त्र है,
ख़त्म होगी रात ये,
सुन ले जो भी भ्रष्ट है.

भारत की बेटी सोजा,
याद हमें तेरी आएगी,
तेरी यादों की कसम,
क्रान्ति रंग लाएगी,
आएगा वो जलजला,
जैसा तूने सोचा,
हम लिखेंगे नयी सेहर,
वीरांगना तू सोजा!

The Gods and the guniea pigs

He was just a simple man,

Living life like millions do,

He ferried the whole city,

Driving around in his auto,

His life wasn’t perfect,

But he was making most of it,

Until the day the lightning struck,

As he woke up feverish.

His body trembled like a leaf,

His forehead burning like a coal,

Feeling too weak to live his days,

He knocked at the god’s door,

With hope and respect he went,

With care the god took him in,

Leaving himself into his hands,

The poor man counted his sins.

The god and his minions worked,

They gifted him the second wind,

Dragging him back from heaven’s gate,

They put him back on road; driving,

But promise did they take from him,

He visited god on days he marked,

His life was finally back on track,

But little did he see the scars,

The scars god was giving him,

All in the guise of love and care,

Too late did he realize,

That something is wrong, unclear.

No longer could he sleep in peace,

Like fish out of water he fell,

His muscles ached, stomach churned,

And putrid his breath did smell,

His legs were fast betraying him,

The running feet could barely walk,

He ended up at the god’s again,

And as he died he heard them talk.

He breathed his last in agony,

Aware of fact that god betrayed,

He was treated like a guinea pig,

The god he trusted never cared,

He was a subject, not patient,

He learned the truth as he died,

And sadly he was not alone,

The money smiled, Hippocrates cried.

The Drought

Parched, thirsty they stare at the sky,

Knowing their masters will never care,

Barren land, barren dreams,

Even death itself is thirsty there.

Drinking filth and living hell,

Eyes crying but tears don’t fall,

Their leaders busy playing violence,

No one they trusted carries balls.

Watches Shivaji from heavens high,

Pride sinking low in shame,

The land he shed his blood for,

Lies thirsty, writhing in pain.

Not far from where the death does walk,

Their masters build a rich man’s hill,

Dining, wining, breathing power,

While farmers land lies untilled.

He who feeds the hungry us,

Starving, watches in despair,

Hoping for the safari suits,

To wake up, maybe grow a pair.

And lost are few in glamour and fame,

Not far from them, lives are cursed,

Dancing, singing, living in style,

Stuffing lives in their purse.

Not one voice heard, not a cry made,

No one stepped out to raise a shout,

Mumbai lives the luxurious nights,

Maharashtra spends the days in drought.

Drying Wells

Water Scarcity

 

Stop the War

Death walking through the streets,

With only rubble under its feet,

The roads are painted red,

And every corner is dead,

The air is putrid with smoke,

Even birds are beginning to choke,

What once was a spot of life,

Is blotted and ill defined.

The eyes are lined with black,

But ‘tis not kohl but char,

The night is falling but,

No one’s out to see the stars,

Stop! Stop! Please stop the war!

In the heat of the fire,

For someone’s ill desire,

Children can no longer play,

Their eyes are drying away,

Men and women alike,

Waiting for end of life,

Watching their houses crumble,

On their dead ones they stumble.

Can’t they listen to cries?

As the reaper keeps on to rise,

Will the night ever end?

Will there ever be a sunrise?

The night is counting dead,

Unblinking eyes staring at stars,

Stop! Stop! Please stop this war!

Condemn, criticize and compensate

Hello government,

Do you even care?

Do you know who am I?

What is the price of my life?

What is the slab I fit in?

If I am just grievously hurt,

Rendered cripple till death,

Are few lakhs enough for years left?

Hello government,

Do you even try?

Why lives get blown to smithereens?

Your intelligence is dead it seems.

What does the future hold?

For the orphans of terror strike,

Are few lakhs enough to educate?

Where knowledge is sold at high rates.

Hello government,

Yes it is cowardice,

But cowards you too are.

Condemning in words as enemy wages war.

Will there ever be a day?

When a life can rest assured,

Will you ever be able to foil?

An act of terror on own soil.

Hello government,

Do you ever grieve?

Or is it just another blast, another day?

Just condemn, criticize and compensate.

The Last Rain

I feel so trapped, can’t breathe in this rain,

I see the droplets, trickle down the panes,

I want to taste those little drops of love,

As they pour from the dark skies above.

I watch in gloom, as they die on the ground,

Trickling away into the sewers underground,

I want to run, and catch them in my hold,

Let them embrace me and make me cold.

I want to wash my splattered soul in this rain,

Start a new life; clean the cob-webs of my brain,

Let the skies click my new beginning tonight,

Roar in approval; tell me I am on the path right.

Wash me clean, like you wash that road,

Come rain, rid me, of all this load,

Come rain and dissolve all of my pain,

I want to live, start all over again.