Saturday, February 25, 2017

A Day at Balsangam



Day a day, Full of kids
An organization, which is very disciplined
Insight into culture
Children learning through quiz, music and sculpture
Mesmerizing speech, expressive skits
Innocent faces, their smiles and small fights
Photographers who volunteered captured this beautiful sight

Day a Day, with lot many volunteers
One standing with pen,  pad and paper
Volunteers in circle, listening to one
Different people with different suggestions and  thoughts
But due to their discipline, nothing led to chaos

A plan to manage the lunch was announced
Followed by instructions on  how to manage the crowd

Day a Day, with a little surprise
Just one girl in the group of volunteers
No, it was not the surprise
But the comment which followed the sight
One man asking her to go and watch the function
She wasn't fit among them, that was his assumption
But when she asked "Are the girls not allowed ?"
Then he had to put a break on his doubt

And yes, off course she was allowed
But the question was necessary to enforce and find that out

All the Rules can not be  written
There are lot many constitutions which are unwritten
Rules are a mere piece of paper, and not alive
Its people who interpret and bring them to life
Important is to ask, understand and know your right
Important is not just to live but to be alive

-November 29, 2016

Friday, December 23, 2016

May the time I spend

May the time I spend
is productive and cherishing

The  time keeps changing
And change is the only constant thing
By keeping aside the blocks
May I catch  the flow in its  constancy

Love is beautiful and universal
It deserves gift as precious as time
Love can never  be asked for, it oozes
May I need not ask time for it

May the time I spend
Is soul enriching
And the aroma of its flow
Could remove the smell of inactivity

May the movement  of time
Is filled with fragrance of love
May I spend my time in a way

That  the love and time become inseparable 

Thursday, December 15, 2016

Guilt

There are some people
Who keeps you always
Yes always under guilt
A feeling of constant guilt
Whether they do something, anything for you
You’ll be under pressure, a pressure set up by them
It may or may not be their intension
But the result will be just one
That will be guilt

Your guilt makes them happy,
They just try to be innocent
But they have the art to project
A worm, inside your mind
So that, you could neither forget them
Nor forgive yourself
They are the artists of pain
With negative impressions
Half devil
With the ability to snatch your peace

They are enemy
With a mask of friendship
Keep distance, a little distance
They can sink the boat

After snatching your life jacket
-Ankita
Jan, 2010

Thursday, September 29, 2016

Shell

I know if I love you
I have to accept you
You as you are
You as whole

But you showed me
what didn't exist
It was a mirage
A shadow after which I ran

But the shadow was carved
Using ornaments
Ornaments which were apart
They were not your part

You ask me whether I love you?
But I find no YOU
You tell me 'I love you '
But unable to speak the ' I' with confidence

I am trying to look for you
But there is nothing inside the shell you showed

Its not that it was just a wrapper
It's not that there was nothing ever
You have kept yourself somewhere
You are confused and even I as ever

You are trying to push me inside your shell
But if you succeed where will be you My Dear?
And if you stop existing
Nothing will matter
Then whatever I do, you won't be able to feel
Neither today, nor ever

I always wish to see and be with the real you
But do let me know
When you feel, YOU exist

-Ankita
September 9, 2016

Monday, August 22, 2016

The Old Man

Going from one side of the road
On my scooter with my mom
Saw an old man, with half bent back
A stick in hand and childlike innocence
On his face
He asked for lift
Waving the stick in the air
We had no time
{Not for the poor old weak man}
And ignored him
Without reducing the scooter’s speed

After 5 minutes, I and mom
Both were guilty
Why we didn’t stop
How insensitive could we?
After dropping mom
I returned through the same way
But from the other side of the road
10 minutes passed
But he (old man) was standing on the same side
In the same position
In the need of help
This time I stopped
Crossed the road, and asked
What he needs?
He was going to see a doctor
With a little money in hand
Unable to walk
For about 2 miles
Neither any bus nor any person
Stopped for him

He was too weak
To sit on my scooter
But this time I was determined to help
I stood beside him
After another 15 minutes
A van stopped
(This time, thankfully)
The driver was ready to let him sit

While I was expecting people to stop
And help him
The old man’s eyes were shining
He needed help
Waited for a long time
On the roadside
But I didn’t find any sign of expectation
In his eyes

Freedom

On the morning
Heard one sentence
A friend told me
He will keep me safe

Safe while riding a bike
Safe while on a hilltop
Trying to explain me
that I need not worry

Dear friend, While I understand
What you are trying to tell
But along with your words
It needs a little explanation from my side too

You need not to tell me again and again
That you can keep me safe
This is neither what I expect, nor what I want

I as a person,
Want to feel safe, want to feel strong
But on the name of safety
I do not want a hedge around me
I want an environment
Where I can breathe the air of freedom

It is the law of nature
That each particle is struggling for freedom
And when my safety depends on actions by someone else
Then it is creating an obstacle, in the path
Path that aims to freedom

If my thoughts, and actions for freedom
Depends on someone else
Then it is a kind of confinement
and not freedom

In the path
Where we , as a part of whole
want freedom,
growth in that path weakens
when someone else
assures me, my safety

While the path is illuminated
When there is mutual respect and trust
That is enough for me
That is what I want
to feel the true freedom

to feel safe.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

आवाज़ कहा गयी ?

मन करता है बोलूँ , चिल्लाऊं,
आवाज़  बाहर आना चाहती है मेरी;
पर कहाँ जाऊं?

कमरे मे ?
पर जोर से बोलूँ तो बंद दरवाज़ों के पीछे रहने वालो को तकलीफ  होगी ,
छत पर जाऊं?
इन ऊँची इमारतो क़े बीच अब छत भी कहाँ है मेरी ,
और सड़क ?
वहां तो हॉर्न का शोर है , वो हर बार दबा देता है मेरी आवाज़ को 
फेसबुक ,ट्विटर पर कुछ लिख आऊं ?
पर मुझे लिखना नहीं कुछ बोलना है 
दोस्त ?
उन्हें वक़्त कहाँ है,
क्या जाऊं दरिया किनारे?
लेकिन एक दरिया का पानी सूख गया, दूसरे के ऊपर एक बड़ा सा ऑफिस बन गया है | 

आज मैंने ड्रामा क्लास ज्वाइन कर ली है
वो बेसमेंट मे है 
वहां कोई नहीं रोकेगा मुझे बोलने से । 

-अंकिता 
मार्च ८, २०१५