In difficult times when dreams hiss like snakes and prayers become an essential part of the night, the more I search for reasons the more confusing it gets. These are times when I find it somewhat peaceful to go for a run at the nearby sports club in the evening.

As I begin to run, I listen to the wind passing through my throat. With every step the heart pumps ample blood across my body. I feel salty drops of perspiration dripping through my temples and spine. The more I run the more I sweat. My ankles hurt as I run harder.

It leaves me in awe of the human condition, what a simple yet logical phenomenon of strive and pain which makes perfect sense unlike life in times like these.

सत्तास्सी की छुट्टियों के अनमोल दिन

 

पहियों में हवा टाइट

फुटबॉल में कुछ नरम

तड़के एटलस की सवारी 

शाम को पिट्ठू गरम

किराये पे बुलाया वी सी आर 

हुआ मोहल्ला एक- जुट 

दीपक भैया के ड्राइंग रूम में 

पूरा दिन मोगेम्बो खुश

न तेरी बारी न मेरी बारी

चल यार कर लें पुगाई

एक से सौ की झूटी गिनती 

लो शुरू अपनी छुपन- छुपाई 

कैसरोल में राजमा चावल

मिल्टन का जग, आमों की बाल्टी

सूखी घांस पे बिछा के चादर

इंडिया गेट पे फैमली पार्टी

नारंगी गोली मछली वाली

सुरई का सोंधा सोंधा पानी

दो घंटे के बस के झटके 

और मम्मी से मिल गयी नानी

कपतान कपिल ही अपने देव
पिछवाडा ही अपना मंदिर 

खिड़कियों पर चोक्के छक्के
आतंक गली- मोहल्ले के अन्दर 

भूल

कूदता, खेलता रहता था

गुरुत्वाकर्षण से भरपूर

संघर्ष करता रहता था

समस्त जंगल मेरा आँगन था

यहाँ से वहाँ और वहाँ से यहाँ 

बस यही जीवन था

ना जाने किस मनहूस घड़ी 

उतर गया शाखाओं से

किसकी बातों में फ़ंस कर

चलने लगा दो पाँव से 

और अब देखिये 

सीडियां चड़ने से पहले ही

दिल की धड़कन सरकती है  

मशीन काम न करे तो 

माथे पर परेशानी झलकती है

सोचता हूँ 

इस अधीन, अधेड़ जीवन से तो

मै बन्दर ही भला था

If by Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you 

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; 

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, 

But make allowance for their doubting too; 

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, 

Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, 

Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, 

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; 

If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; 

If you can meet with triumph and disaster 

And treat those two imposters just the same; 

If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken 

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, 

Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, 

And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings 

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, 

And lose, and start again at your beginnings 

And never breath a word about your loss; 

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew 

To serve your turn long after they are gone, 

And so hold on when there is nothing in you 

Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, 

Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; 

If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; 

If all men count with you, but none too much; 

If you can fill the unforgiving minute 

With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - 

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, 

And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!