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Feathers from the Nest
सच्चे आंसू
चिड़िया की चहचहाहट के साथ वह गांव जगा, पर रामलाल की झोपडी में आज न धुए की रेखा थी, न खांसी की खनक। चौराहे का भिखारी माने जाने वाले रामलाल को सब पागल कहते थे – बिखरे बाल, फटे कपडे और आँखों में अलग-अजीब चमक। लेकिन केवल एक बच्चा था, जो रोज उसके पास आता था, राज।
“बाबा, ये तुम्हारे लिए रोटी लाया हूँ । पता है आज स्कूल में मेरे लिए ताली बजी ।” राजू चहकते हुए झोपडी में घुसा, पर रामलाल अब शून्य में विलीन हो चुके थे। राजू की चीख सुनकर पूरा गांव उमड़ पड़ा।
“पागल था, आखिर चला गया!” कोई बोला।
सरपंच ने हंसते हुए कहा,” चलो अच्छा हुआ, एक बोझ कम हुआ गांव से।”
यह सब सुनकर राजू का खून खौल उठा और वह गुस्से से बोला, “पागल नहीं थे, उन्होंने ही मुझे पढ़ाया, मां जैसी लोरी सुनाई और पिता जैसा हाथ थामा।” गांव सन्न रह गया और सभी के सिर शर्म से झुक गए। उस दिन गांव ने सीखा की रक्त के नहीं, संवेदना और करुणा के रिश्ते अमर होते हैं। और आंसू वही सच्चे होते हैं जो दिल से बहकर आत्मा को भिगा दें ।
Feathers from the Nest
She watches from the porch — a breath in bloom,
As twilight spills its honey through her room.
The kettle hums like lullabies once sung,
Now echoes soft where once a cradle swung.
Her daughter, fire in sneakers, storm in grace,
Rushes past time with wind upon her face.
The world spins fast beneath her eager feet,
A carousel of dreams in every street.
Her laugh is lightning skipping down the lane,
Each spark a triumph, tinged with quiet pain.
The mother smiles, stitched with threads of ache,
A garden’s joy that knows what it must break.
She moves like tidewater in a sunless bay,
Slow with the weight of all she’s given away.
The clock inside her ticks with gentle dread,
While hers now flies, where her own once led.
The house—once riotous with scattered toys—
Now breathes in silence, missing all that noise.
Curtains sway like ghosts of long-gone days,
And walls wear scribbles like old hymns of praise.
She holds her spiced tea like a fragile wing,
Recalling how she taught her girl to sing.
To tie her shoes, to stand, to speak, to dare—
To be a storm, and yet still learn to care.
She built her sky from bricks and lullabies,
And now must watch as that same sky flies.
And oh, how proud—how proud the ache can be,
To raise a soul, then set that soul free.
But still—some nights, she walks the hall alone,
Each shadow shaped like laughter overgrown.
She does not clip, but oh, grips the thread,
Between the life she gave… and what lies ahead.
So here she stands, a willow in the gale,
Bent not by time, but love that will not pale.
And whispers softly, every time she sees—
“My darling, chase your storms—but don’t forget your trees.”
करुणा: एक अहसास, एक जीवन-दृष्टि
करुणा: एक अहसास, एक जीवन-दृष्टि।
करुणा केवल एक भावना नहीं, बल्कि एक दृष्टिकोण है — ऐसा दृष्टिकोण जो मानव-जीवन को भीतर से समृद्ध करता है और समाज को मानवीय बनाता है। यह वह भाव है जो हमें केवल जीवित नहीं, बल्कि जागरूक बनाता है — दूसरों की पीड़ा को महसूस करने वाला, उसे समझने वाला और उस पीड़ा को कम करने की ओर सक्रिय करने वाला।
जब कोई मनुष्य करुणा का अनुभव करता है, तो उसमें केवल दया नहीं होती, बल्कि एक ऐसी संवेदनशीलता होती है जो उसे आत्मकेंद्रितता से बाहर लाकर दूसरों के जीवन में झाँकने की क्षमता देती है।
परिपक्व करुणा केवल भावुकता नहीं होती; वह विवेक से जुड़ी होती है — जहाँ व्यक्ति न केवल दुख को पहचानता है, बल्कि यह भी समझता है कि उस दुख के साये को उजालो में कैसे बदला जा सके।
आज विविध तकनीकी समझ ने मनुष्य की मशीनों से तो दूरी मिटा दी है, पर मनुष्य की मनुष्यता से दूरी बढ़ा दी है। आज अधिकांश लोग मन ही मन अकेले और आत्मकेंद्रित होते जा रहें हैं। सूचनाएँ बढ़ी हैं, लेकिन संवेदनाएँ कम हुई हैं। ऐसे समय में करुणा न केवल ज़रूरी है, बल्कि अनिवार्य है — ताकि हम फिर से मानव बन सकें, न की केवल भीड़ भर।
करुणा कोई दिखावा नहीं, कोई प्रदर्शन नहीं — यह एक आंतरिक स्पर्श है जो हमें इंसान से बेहतर इंसान बनाता है। यह वह अहसास है जो शब्दों के परे जाकर हमें जोड़ता है — व्यक्ति से व्यक्ति, मन से मन और अंततः आत्मा से आत्मा।
जहाँ करुणा होती है, वहाँ न्याय मौन होता है, पर प्रभावशाली होता है।
करुणा ही वह बीज है जिससे एक न्यायसंगत, समरस और सह-अस्तित्व पर आधारित समाज का सूर्य उगता है।
अंधेरों से मत हार मान
अंधेरों से मत हार मान,
तू अब भी तो उजियारा है।
ठहरे जल में भी कुछ सपने,
थामे तेरा किनारा है।
हर टूटे सपने की राख में,
छिपा कोई अंगारा है।
बस विश्वास रख तू खुद पर,
हर पत्थर में एक सहारा है।
थक कर बैठा है जो पथिक,
उसके मन में प्रश्न बहुत,
पर चलने का जो रखे जुनून,
तो हो लेंगे तेरे साथ बहुत।
आशा कोई जादू नहीं,
एक सीधी-सी समझ है ये —
जो गिरने के बाद उठाए,
बस अपने को परख तो ले।
जब सब द्वार बंद हो जाएँ,
तब भी खुला एक दर होगा ।
जिसे दुनिया कहती है हार
वही से शुरू आशा का एक घर होगा।
तो चल, जहाँ टूटे सपने हों,
वहीं नई सुबह बो दें हम।
हर अंधकार को देंगे मात,
ऐसी बने कुछ रोशनी हम।
Musings
- How travelling helps us to feel like time flies slower:
Have you ever realized that the older you get the faster time seems to move? Like a year when you were 5 was such a long time and now a year blows past you like wind traveling from one part of the street. So much for metaphor that I included the main topic in it TRAVELING.
Now how does traveling connect with all this stuff? Well, our brain likes to do new things and when we were 5 we really didn’t know much stuff hence our brain registered it as a longer time but as you grow up your routine starts to get very similar hence your brain takes it as a shorter period of time. Now in travelling you do many sorts of things which make you have new experiences and learn new things which breaks up your daily routine hence your brain registers it as a longer period of time.
- How all the deserts on earth were formed:
If you have ever by mistake taken the world map of highly civilized civilizations and the world map of natural landforms you would notice a pattern that wherever you see a hot desert you would see a highly civilized human population. An example of this would be Egyptian civilization or the Indus Valley civilization. Now you would say that these are just coincidences. Then an example to prove you wrong is Chicago and Texas which are undergoing desertification and are also the 2 most populated states of The United States of America. Now how does it work well it works in 3 steps which are:-
1) the humans colonize a bit
2) they become greedy and try to colonize even more (which they do)
3) they forget about nature and become even more greedy, destroying the nature around them to become even more civilized. (which they again become)
4) after a lot of the last step they are not able to find natural resources like water and go extinct.
According to me when we become extinct the entire earth would turn into a desert.
- How all lifeforms shift from one planet to another:
Have you ever realized how Mars, the planet just after Earth, has water and ice deposits and Venus, the planet before us, has a huge amount of carbon dioxide? Ice and water deposits are important requirements for life and carbon dioxide is a major sign of past life as it is secreted by life and also put out by advanced machinery and chemical reactions.
This can mean that life shifted from an unknown planet to Mercury and from there to Venus and from there to Earth. Either the same human beings or the old life forms got extinct and life restarted from nothing.
Let’s focus on the other possibility – Mars having water and ice deposits. Now how can something like this take place? The most probable reason is that nuclear fusion takes place in our sun which converts hydrogen into helium increasing the sun’s volume gradually which can lead to destruction of planets, extinctions of species and most importantly shifting of the heat layer which has the right temperature for life which is just a bit higher than the temperature required to convert hydrogen and oxygen into water due to which Mars has water and ice deposits as it currently is in that temperature zone and that is how water is present on earth.
An Ode to the Moon
An Ode to the Moon
For everyone who thinks they are not enough.
What if the moon believed that it wasn’t complete
Just because someone else saw it when it was crescent?
What if it felt worthless
Because it wasn’t a part of someone else’s sky?
And for a change…
What if it starts believing that
It’s complete,
It’s enough,
Enough to control the oceans might
Enough to brighten up someone’s darkest night
Enough to be the metaphor for a pretty face
To be in verses of songs about love, beauty and grace,
Enough to be the spark in a child’s eye
To be the diamond of the sky
To be celebrated in all its phases
To be crescent and still have a festival that awaits its sight
To only show a sliver of itself and still be loved right?
The World Leaders Shake Hands as the Global Order Remains Shaken up…
Every time an innocent civilian is killed
Humanity dies a million deaths…
To think of how unsettling it is when
On an unsuspecting sunlit morning
Into two buildings that touched the sky
With no hint, with no warning
An aircraft with the intention to destruct can simply fly
And it did so taking lives
With huge clouds of dust, debris and smoke
The buildings collapse and the terror thrives
Glass shards went flying and held humanity in a choke
And years have passed ever since, yet today we see
On the pitch black fabric of the infinite sky
The blinding missiles blare the sounds of a white lie
As a mother consoles her child’s desperate cry
Her tear filled eyes only ask the question-“why?”
It truly is unsettling that
A war is inflicted by someone suited up in his chair
Someone who has a gun in one hand and a silver spoon in the other.
The bloodshed, sorrow and despair however, the civilians bear
And children crying from hunger can no longer be consoled by their mother.
The leaders create front page headlines
As the population bleeds to statistics
Wars end with ceasefires, pacts and signs
But a war doesn’t just destroy concrete and bricks.
And for each drop of innocent blood
Humanity cries already at the cusp of a flood.
The Greek Myth of Orpheus and Eurydice
Such a tale, time and time again the world seeks,
One like when it had seen
A love so strong it made the nether hold its fiery breath
And stronger still, it stood in the face of death
With its soft music it pierced through the guards of hell
The strings of his lyre Orpheus strummed, and hypnotised Cereberus fell.
With his song, he sang a story in the palace of the underworld’s king and queen
In the boundless darkness, ignified traces of love he’d seen.
He sang of his yearning for Eurydice, and the rulers of the underworld sat still
Reminiscent of their very own love, Orpheus’ desire they’d meant to fulfill.
They warned him, however, that he’d have to lead her out.
Eurydice would follow, and he couldn’t afford to doubt.
To turn to check would mean to lose her forever
By shifting his glance back, all ties to another chance he’d sever.
His long grieving heart was brimming with restlessness.
Eurydice patiently waited for his caress.
With each step the tension grew,
Yet he did what he had to do.
At the threshold of the two worlds, that of the dead and the alive
He stepped out first and turned back before she could arrive.
His ecstasy had now sunk into an all-consuming deep void within.
The world he saw felt meaningless, and his strength wore thin.
The immense love he held was the bane of its own fate.
The tragedy now painfully intertwined with what could’ve been an ending so great.
His grief only grew and poured out in his songs
As he sat mourning all his wrongs.
From then on, his grieving never ceased
But through his mourning, his emotions were released.
And the world around him paused to grieve too
While his heavy heart was still laden with rue.
Trees descended from mountain tops to hear his tune
While people across the world travelled to hear him soon.
And in his ballads resided his very own love
And immortal became Eurydice, in his realm and above.
Such a tale, time and time again the world seeks
And yet it pauses to listen, when their music speaks.
What Hope Truly Feels Like…
Hope isn’t a ray of light.
It’s a flickering flame.
An anxious anticipation for better
When fate takes the blame
To acceptance – it’s a fetter.
And it’s everything but bright.
Hope isn’t the silver lining of grey clouds.
It’s the excruciating interlude for the clouds to clear out.
The result is all that matters.
It’s the fingers crossed in doubt,
The heart like glass- it breaks and shatters.
Hope is exhausted, settled like a sediment in the heart.
Only to be stirred again and then completely torn apart.
However, hope is pretty, it’s true.
Though not like sunshine or bands of colour across the sky.
Not like clouds edged with pouring light
But it’s pretty like a delicate chandelier hung up high.
Easy to shatter, away at a great height
Like a dandelion, wistful and trampled on the ground
But ever staying, never vanishing, like a lingering sound.
Pesky, Nasty Mosquitoes
Pesky, nasty mosquitoes.
They always bite us.
They always fight us.
Pesky, nasty mosquitoes.
They fly there and come again.
This is the reason we all complain.
Why are they so hungry?
Making us more angry.
Their annoying behaviour
drives us mad.
They are always ready
to make us sad.
Pesky, nasty mosquitoes.
They always bite us.
They always fight us.
Pesky, nasty mosquitoes.
Please switch off the TV now…
“Please switch off the TV now…”
That’s what my mumma says every evening. And honestly, she is right.
Sometimes I feel like I am stuck to a screen – TV, phone, or even schoolwork on the laptop. It’s like the gadgets follow me everywhere! At first, it’s fun. But after some time, I feel tired, confused, and even angry for no reason.
That’s when I learned something called digital detox – taking a break from screens to rest your eyes, mind, and heart. Trust me, it really helps!
This summer, I learned embroidery, texture art, and even crochet all thanks to my mumma’s ‘homemade summer camp’ (seriously, she should take classes…hahaha). I started spending time drawing, playing with my sibling, or just sitting near the window watching the rain. And it felt peaceful. I could hear my own thoughts.
Sometimes, I don’t even realise how much time I am spending on screens. I pick up the phone just to check the time, and suddenly I am watching videos of dancing cats, funny babies, and random craft hacks I will never try! It’s like my fingers have a mind of their own. That’s when I laugh and think, “Okay, I really need to stop now.”
Even my little brain feels tired like it wants to lie down with a cold water bottle on its head!
This article and my drawing are my way of telling you: Switch off the screen and switch on your life. Try it once every day, even for 30 minutes. It’s not a punishment. It’s like giving your brain a bubble bath. Your brain and heart will thank you.
Let’s unplug to feel free again.
A version of me, left by the sea
A version of me, left by the sea
I used to sit on a bench,
Where the ocean ends,
And the sky begins.
Watching the waves write stories,
Only the ancient brown sand could read.
The wind spoke with salt and hush,
Thoughts slipping from my pocket,
Some, I wasn’t sure the shore could hold.
Shells giggled like old friends,
Softened by time,
Yet strong, not fragile.
And in that hush between wind and beach,
I left behind a version of me,
Washed clean, unafraid,
Leaping to begin once more.
A house with no doors
Beside the old oak tree stands a house with no doors.
A house not broken by burden of expectations,
Nor ruined by the fear of judgement.
A house where each window,
Each brick held a breath.
A house with walls of sighs.
A house that stood still.
Stood still amid all chaos and turmoil.
A house not waiting, not inviting,
Just existing.
With windows that dance in light, doors that taunt the rain,
And a floor that screams nostalgia with every touch.
And if you listen even closely,
You might hear the noise of parties unthrown,
The hush of secrets untold,
And the laughter that once filled up the room, screaming like it’s trying to come back home.
A house with no doors to knock,
No bell to ring and no welcome to expect.
A door having cracks like my grandma’s wrinkled skin,
A door old, not devastated.
Maybe one that’s placed not to be open.
A door that hums the pain inside it when wind’s at its footstep,
A door that listens, but never speaks.
A door that creaks, squeaks, and groans, yet never settles in place.
A house with a living room filled with tons of silence,
Silence that’s heavier than the sound of fireworks,
Maybe lighter than the sound of snores.
A house with a small mirror hanging in the courtyard,
A mirror that observes, but never reveals.
Not judging, not staring.
Just watching.
Some might even say it wasn’t built.
It wasn’t built,
It was cherished, it was remembered
And lastly, it was dreamt.
Life
1. Birth: A new Life
When I’m born don’t call the gods,
Call the demons of lords.
When I’m born don’t call my friends,
Call the people that I shall hate.
When I’m born don’t call my loved ones,
Call the very, who made me done.
When I’m born,
I shall really be dead.
Somewhere in the sky,
Where birds fly,
An angel I seek,
To take me back from where I leap.
2. Friend’s Eternal Flame
Don’t let the fire in you,
Burn the future’s sky blue.
Be the best version of the blossom springs,
Bring about the bestest of the best wings.
Aaradhya my buddy,
Let’s be the version of our friendship, that’s the most,
STURDY.
3. Life’s Grace
Life is too short to only study,
Oh! my buddy,
Why are you so distressed?
Life’s rainbow shall again be graced.
Embrace the clouds of one’s tale,
Let your hair breeze through life’s gale.
A speck of dust,
Like an achiever’s lust.
The depths of the ocean I see,
Let’s not decide why to flee.
The studies are a part of your story,
Why make it the curse of your glory?
Enjoy the process,
Let your mind run its prowess.
4. My Mother
(This poem is a little abstract. It touches upon the feelings of a new born child. He/She has lost their father. Due to the innocence of a child, they believe their mother to perform the role of a father as well. In some sense, the mother has taken this dual responsibility.)
Where are you?
Who are you?
Is you, him?
Him is her.
Are you, my father?
5. Friends that Go
A time comes,
That a person never wishes to see.
Life takes a sharp turn,
Making your head burn.
A friend goes,
As time shall never have the pity to plead.
New friends, who dig your gold,
Replace the old ones who made you diamonds so pure.
But new hearts also turn cold,
Old was my rainbow VIBGYOR.
That face that smiled at them,
Now stands alone, faded at them.
Awaiting a simple gesture,
“Hey!”
God changes our fate,
But lord, why do you take away our mate?
Tears of salt, drop from the sky,
Time shall fly,
While I shall cry,
While I shall cry.
6. In my Mirror
In the abyss of the mirror I see,
A figure I wanted to flee.
Society questions his looks,
They ask, do you only like books?
Standing tall but lean,
I forgot when my mind was clean.
Through the chambers of my heart,
Strikes a poisoned dart.
Parents are the boon of God’s grace,
Who seem to fade the trace,
I wonder where I lost my laughing father’s face.
Teen life is a labyrinth of a maze,
It makes one forget the wants of his craze.
O, Almighty! How shall I overcome this feeling?
When the only man I see is me flawed and falling.
7. Sapphire
You’re throwing your hearts,
like they are fragments of sapphire.
Shaping the people like darts,
Or burning them like your hand’s on fire.
A moment on still,
Enough to sink the boat of life.
One wrong dart and the hole is on the hill,
Though, you can always dive.
To see the people you meet
Going around without you hurts the greet.
Awaiting that signal, that God said,
Never did the goodbye a bade.
धर्मात्मा महान
आँखे मूँद मत चल प्यारे ,
राह है कांटे भरे ।
है भरा विष उसमें ,
यह सांप को क्या पता चले ?
दृढ हो संकल्प कर ,
चल उठ और कदम रख ।
खुद पर अडिग विश्वास कर ,
स्वाधीनता पर राज कर ।
सत्य, तू अकेला है ,
सत्य, तेरे साथ कोई नहीं ।
सत्य तेरे भीतर छिपा है ,
क्या सुनने को तैयार तू ?
गीदड़ भागे , हिरण भागे ,
इस कुंज में , आग लगी है ।
गज स्थायी है सोचता ,
इस कुंज में , परेशान सभी हैं ।
तैयारी न कर तू भविष्य की ,
भविष्य तेरे हाथ नहीं है ।
कर्म कर कर्म भूमि पर तू तो ,
दान से कुछ महान नहीं है ।
शांत कर विकल मन को ,
चंचलता के परे देख ,
खुद पर वश जमा अपना ,
इंद्रिया जीत फिर बोलना ,
इस जग की बात नई है ।
