Passing by the tamarind tree
every now and then,
It's leaves shedding over me,
In between time that is relative but still
segregative.
Maybe the whole picturesque
is about me approaching slowly
and those dried leaves are millions of
prospectives.
It's the point from where my stars
are crossing.
Unaware of the distance between me
and the swirling winds.
Altogether I know it's the voice even in
the deep slumber
that rings through my ears.
Like the exasperated summer birds
in the winter evenings,
It's the call of the swiftly passing years,
what's there ahead is hidden
somewhere in the sac I am firmly gripping.

-

Just as the day ends,
the vast ocean meeting the horizon,
It has evaporated, the distinction.
It's the wind that carries the edge,
everything else is still there and not
the same anymore.
Something about time is evident
in front of my eyes,
the nearing brightness of the
dying Star,
will never retrace itself back.
The visions are so static even
inside a moving caravan,
it isn't about the eyes,
I don't think it ever was.
It was always like the shattered glass,
turbulent either ways.
-Nirupama Jha

-

Neither this realm nor that
I hold on to, dear to my heart
essential to unwrap the gift.
Nothing is permanent neither
the sky nor the wind.
On a Fastrack station blows
the air like feathers,
at the same instant time moves
rapid but the feet remains fastened.
Neither there is truth nor any lies,
eyes speaks of what is perceived
more than that of what it has seen.
Altogether is an illusion, altogether
is absolute.
Craving for this sometimes and
in other that quest is for something else.
Neither this realm nor that ,
I belong to the void as nothing
that has ever existed and as
everything that could ever exist.

-

चंद कुछ लम्हों में
दास्तान लिखी होती है,
एक वक्त के कतरे में
छुपी सदियां होती है।
मिलों दूर चांद को लपेटे,
स्याही से गिरी लाल
रंग भी कभी अस्तित्व
के करीब होती है।
चुने हुए अल्फाजों मैं
ही तो सांस बंधी होती है,
किन्ही दिल की गहराइयों में
आसरा कभी जो मिलता है,
तो कभी कुछ हाथों को थामे
ही किस्सा पूरा होता है।

-

It happens in the most unusual place,
falling for the most unlikely being.
No reasons appear to like but all
the reasons to love.
Somewhere above prejudice and logic
something fills the heart with melody.
There is nothing to change only to
cherish ,
there is nothing to loose only moments
to live in.
It's that happiness unlike the rest of them,
it remains even when it's no more there.
It's that beautiful possibility which brings us
closer to our entity.

-

पलकें यू झपकते ही सूर्य से खिली रोशनी
तारों से जा मिलती है,
राह चलते मुसाफिर की कदमें भी जा मूर्ति है।
एक सैलाब सा है इन आंखों में छुपा,
शाम ढलते ही दूर किसी दरिया में जा बस्ती है।
ख्वाबों के कीलें भी चांद की रोशनी में जमीं
से सिमट जाते है,
एक आस दबी इन सासों में आज की खुशबू की
छाप छोड़ जाते है।

लम्हा दर लम्हा जब वक्त की सुई रेत की तरह उर
जाति है,
तब हाथों में बचे रेशमी धागे भी कुदरत में फिसल
जाते है।
चंद यादों को लिए जब एक उम्र निकल जाती है,
एक तिनके के सहारे सौ साल गुजर जाते है।
चाहे आग से गुजरे हों या आंधी में बिखरे हों,
जीवन का कारवां तो आकाश पे ही जा रुकता है,
कुछ हसीं और कुछ बूंद आसूं में लिपटी एन बातों
के बदौलत एक हसीन सफर यू कट जाति है।

-

In the far flung corner of the world,
obscure from the shadow of time,
unfettered from the norms of life,
hidden somewhere is a fathomless
desire,
to cover the distance till that willow
tree,
to take shelter beneath the wild creepers.
Alas! the chain of vague thoughts
dissolved in my being,
latches my heart and detains it's beats
from falling upon my ears.

My lingering breath when flexes my
visions,
the riffling wind and the smell of winter
when holds the thread of my life,
'What can I say?'
From this distinct corner,
the portrait is almost surreal.
It's the gratitude for this face of creation
that's filling up in my existence.

-Nirupama Jha

-

सुर की तरह,आजाद गगन में,
बहती वायु की तरह।
फूलो की तरह,खिलती जमी पे,
मुस्कुराते चेहरों की तरह।
आंखो में भरे सपनो की तरह,
दिलों में उतरती ज्वाला की तरह।
भारत हु मैं, है नाज़ मुझे इस मिट्टी पे,
तिरंगे में लिपटे उन जंजू की तरह।

यादों की तरह, घुलती कहानियों में,
लंबे सफर की तरह।
कस्ती की तरह, गुजरते पहाड़ों से,
चट्टान इरादों की तरह।
नीले चरखे में छुपी सच्चाई की तरह,
केसरी और हरे रंग में लिपटी,
साहस एवम प्रगति की तरह।
लाल किले पे लहराती जब वह,
सालों की तपस्या का उत्सव मनाती,
कोई नई सुबह और चमकते सूरज की तरह।

- निरुपमा झा

-

The spirit of life is in experiencing the phenomenon not in accumulating the psychological perception of life.

-

One day!
We would sit by the
river,
on the moutain rocks,
throwing small pebbles
that smells like salt,
and we will settle down
along with the ripples.
The exuberant aroma
of lime green lemons
will play with the life
within us.
We will then lay off our
profuse thoughts,
from muddling our bubble.
We will stay untying knots
of our existential trouble,
like now will be forever.
As if this moment is eternity,
perpetuating from here to
Infinity.
Within each breath will be
life and death,
With every vision,
tears of escasty will roll
down our cheeks,
melting our inhibitions.
Experiences will unfurl
itself vividly.
We will let go of lies,
that stumbled the magic
since lifetimes.
The new proufound truth,
will set the fire free,
renewing every memory,
blooming thy creation
effortlessly.
With each step retreating
towards conciousness,
Life will never be the same,
Ever again!
~Nirupama Jha

-