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Hope

Rare are the moments, when we ourselves realise how unreal we keep becoming on the outside on a daily basis. This keeps increasing the gap between the inside and what comes out as words. समय, Situation हमसे शायद ये demand करता है, और हम comfortably ऐसे ही बन जाते हैं और बनते चलें जातें हैं. अभी, recently I happened to be amongst people where this was not required by many.... जब सब ने ज़ेहन से जुबां तक का सफर तै कर ही लिया ... तो सब न सिर्फ एक दूसरे से easily connect हो गए बल्कि जैसे खुद से मिल लिये ...! This may not be a forever place, but at least, we know, it can be visited and how...!

हारा हूँ सौ बार गुनाहों से लड़-लड़कर लेकिन बारंबार लड़ा हूँ मैं उठ-उठकर इससे मेरा हर गुनाह भी मुझसे हारा मैंने अपने जीवन को इस तरह उबारा डूबा हूँ हर रोज़ किनारे तक आ-आकर लेकिन मैं हर रोज़ उगा हूँ जैसे दिनकर इससे मेरी असफलता भी मुझसे हारी मैंने अपनी सुंदरता इस तरह सँवारी

Vinod Kumar Shukla Born: 1 Jan 1937,  Died: 23 Dec 2025 (88 years) I have recited him once before on this podcast and today as a small tributary where... the poem is hopelessly hopeful....दुनिया में अच्छे लोगों की कमी नहीं है. I have liked the Idea of belief in there's enough goodness and therefore it's very natural for me to like this poem. However there's more reason to this recitation: और कितना समय बीत गया है लौटकर मैं घर नहीं घर-घर पहुँचना चाहता हूँ और चला जाता हूँ। Let the listeners of this poem, meet Vinod ji... let him visit every listener's and reader's home this way... let his belief reach through. 🙏

In this beautiful poem on being in love feeling like writing a poem for infinity.... ! where the subtle presence of one's partner is woven into every moment of the other's being... the mention of सुबह शाम रात दिन... then further to सांस, लफ़्ज़ों, ख़्वाबों, सुकून... meaning in every एहसास. ... as long as one breaths this poetry continues and beyond... अनंत कविता का जन्म. Such is the love where... when one meets or is at a distance... when one gives words to love or remains engrossed in daily mundane and remains silent. And while ending, even after expressing so deeply beautifully.. the poet feels... so much said is still unread and unheard by her lover... and also she still feels unexpressed even after expressing this infinite love when she asks the partner if he too feels unexpressed ? Such is a person's state in love.... weaving a continuous poem.

ચલો આપણે ગીત લખીએ સીધી સાદી રીત લખીએ પથ્થરને વાદળ કહેશું ને જણને કહીશું ઝાડ રેતી કહેશે સાંભળ અલ્યા સાંભળશે વરસાદ ઘાસ અને તડાકાને છાની વાત હોય છે નિત લખીએ એક ઝરણને કાંઠે ઊગ્યાં ફૂલને ફૂટે પાંખ એક અજાણ્યું વાદળ ખોલે નક્ષત્રોની આંખ વિસ્મયનું જંગલ ને એમાં ઊજળો-ઝાંખો દીપ લખીએ મસમોટી દુનિયાની ચાલો મુઠ્ઠી ભરીએ એક ને ખિસ્સામાં મમરા નીચે મૂકી દઈએ છેક મારતી ખિસકોલીના પટ્ટા જેવી પ્રીત લખીએ ચલો આપણે ગીત લખીએ સીધી સાદી રીત લખીએ

અમારી છે આંખો અમારા છે ચશ્માં કહે તારા દર્શન થી શું ભાન આવે in between 2 thoughts since some time.... why certain things never change... equally why somethings never remains the same....! Strange how both these questions are inside at the same time as well..! This is what makes me feel... મને ક્યાંય પુસ્તક ના પાના અડ્યા નહિ! These questions bring me back to this poem again and again. Every line hits me deep... અમારી છે આંખો અમારાં છે ચશ્માં, કહે તારા દર્શનથી શું ભાન આવે? તમારા છે ગ્રંથો તમારી જ વાણી, કહો કેમ કરતાં મને ગ્યાન આવે? મને તું જમાના ન બતલાવ રસ્તા જનમ આ જનમ કે પછીના જનમના મને ક્યાં ખબર છે કે જન્મો તે શું છે અમે તો હતાં ત્યાં ઘણાં ગામ આવે અમે 'કોણ હું?' જેવી પરવા કરી નહીં, ન પૂછી તને મેં તમારીયે ઓળખ ઘણાં હોય પાત્રો ઘણી હોય ઘટના બીજું તો કહાણીમાં શું કામ આવે? અમે કંઈ ન જાણ્યું નથી કાંઈ માંડ્યું જરા બસ આ બેસીને ગીતો જ ગાયાં અને ફક્ત ભરકંઠ પીવાનું સમજ્યા ભલે જામ આવે કે અંજામ આવે અમારે નથી કોઈ મંજિલ વિસામા કે રસ્તા ખૂટે તો ત્યાં રોકાઈ જઈએ મૂકામો ઉતારા બધુંયે અમારું આ મારગની માટીમાં રમમાણ આવે ન ભણવું ન ગણવું રખડવું રઝળવું મને ક્યાંય પુસ્તકનાં પાનાં અડ્યાં નહીં મને જે અડ્યા તે તરતમાં હવા થઈ તરતમાં નદી થઈને જો આમ આવે

From ample poetry on Dashera And Ram and Ravan... this song is one of my all time favorites. It directs, brings relevance and sense... whatever the context... Ram, mythology or contemporary situations... only this that shall always remain.... Mann se Ravan jo Nikale Ram uske Mann mein hai.

Every humdrum routine deserves a pause, in these silences between the daily chaos is the time to listen to ones own self. The halt in the race may seemingly feel like pointless time waste, but it brings in perspective, a different outlook of the same visual, of the same self. So PAUSE you may, to smell the flowers, listen to the birds, play & flight with the kids, make excuses, sound stupid, day dream, sing to yourself, breathe and love yourself...!

Poetry Heals indeed... reciting and creating this episode in belief and faith that the one in need shall come across this, hear it and heal through it. ....! Ensure that You are a million times enough....! even if whatever and whoever makes you feel otherwise... be proud of you because you are becoming a better version of you.

Often when people meet they don't know each other, the hand is extended and held because the extending & holding is mutually understood. Often over a period of time we get to know people. And then if the holding is continued it's because walking together is understood. Walking together is valued. Togetherness is valued. Something which amuses me all the time is... we get closer to people by a certain quality of theirs which makes us curious to know them more, eternal truth none is perfect and getting closer we know the weaknesses too... now it's up to us... the virtues continue to attract, the weaknesses bother or the Togetherness is Valued... its solely what we choose 😊

This is the best zone to be in ... loving yourself..! This poetry along with it being a wholesome favourite... from loving the zone it is in .. of self love... to a lot more has many many line which are an absolute FAVOURITE! I want to list them here that's it. Raste mere Dost hai ab... kho leti hoon bina dare. khud pe shak ki sari parte pighal rahi hai dheere dheere. khud ko khulkar chahane ki alag si shiddat ho rahi hai. Adhoori kavitao ko bhi dular deti hoon. Mere sapne mujhse aage chaltein hain, mein itni Azad chalti hoon. mein hud se zyada udne lagi hoon MUJHE MEIN ACHI LAGNE LAGI HOON...!

Emotional people and their Emotions....! Fundamentally humans are distinguished from animals through their ability to verbally express their emotions. I wonder if this is a virtue or a vice? Expression is loved at some time and loathed at yet another point in time. Humans cannot keep anything in measurement or control and yet accepts and detests expression at times according to their conveniences...! From Businesses to society everything axels around emotions yet emotional people are so tagged... "Oh so much emotions, so much Drama! " Mein samajti hu Har Shaks Jazzbaati Hai !

इश्क़ उम्र ४० का ! Ishq Umr 40 ka...! Self love @ age 40..…! I have loved and unloved myself for 4 decades now.... and this journey makes me grounded... when I can unlove myself....uuuf baakiyon ki kya hi baat ho...! The acceptance of the impermanence.... of everything is the reality.

The void of that one person, the denial of pain n suffering has always been romanticized by the poets. Similar is the mood of this poetry. Remembering is not missing... remembering is not loving... things go one.. life goes on... but the way it changes the one in wait, in hope for the hopelessness is expressed here. What is amazing is... I am imagining... the poet must have been such a die hard romantic... that even in denial what is felt in the poetry is the sheer love dedication for the loved one.