Sunday, September 6, 2009

I Can

I was backstage, standing straight for my dress to fit,
I was nervous, Indian before German, Swiss and Brit,
Walk when they call your country’s name, I was told,
Keep your chin up, smile, move straight slow, be bold,
The clicks and razzmatazz, would blind you for a while,
Walk the Ramp, own the world, and don’t forget smile,
I remembered all that I had gone through to be here ,
It wasn’t just a ramp, just a title, nor the money mere,
It wasn’t about the cheers and nor about nation’s pride,
It wasn’t about saving the world, no not about limo ride,
It was about what the world said I cannot, don’t dream,
It was about a walk of pride, a tear of joy, loud scream,
It was about the dreams of those girls in towns like mine,
It was for one to hit it hard and thousand more shall shine


I thought of the orange temple next to the mosque lane,
I remembered how we ran across it on seeing the plane,
I remember how the potter’s clay smelled when it rain,
Her daughters studies were curtailed for brother’s gain,
I thought of those kites and those marbles, more like us,
Each had a color and a spark, radiance of each one pious,
They always told me don’t do it, as no one there ever did,
Lack of precedence, example, killed the dreams indeed,
If I don’t do this, it would take a few more years for them,
To come out and dream, and achieve out of it, least some,
I walk out on the ramp, see I do like the world’s very best,
Don’t tell them , “It’s impossible, put your dream to rest”
See how I smile, I walk, I answer with élan, hear my voice,
It goes a thousand miles through to the place of my choice,
Let them be inspired with this crown that you want to give,
Let there be more from my little place to bloom and believe.

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

A Blue Dot and A Red - An Engine Driver and A Chef

What is that blue dot over leaves green?
A flower! Yesterday, that had not been,
What is that red dot over my rail-track,
Is that Blood! Yesterday it had not been
Is that the new paint that the tea stall got?
Is that a cat, river under-bridge has caught?
So many new things my way sees everyday,
I cant stop though, nothing to them I can say
I rush without a pause, to the station last,
And reaching it, it becomes my new start
My room to run train, is full of coal grime,
Am I the engine driver or the passing time.

What is that blue dot over leaves green?
An ink drop I see, why was it left unclean,
What is that red dot over the white napkin?
Lipstick of that dame, is also left unclean,
How did they like the starters, was it hot?
And the macroni, the pudding and tea pot?
I cant stop though, while the waiters serve,
I rush to make another, with same verve,
I wish I get to serve them, with food pile,
Satsfactorily fed I wish to see their smile,
Variety, colors, tastes, all on my shelf,
Am I a chef, or the beautiful nature itself.

Friday, August 14, 2009

I Bay On A Holiday - On Independece Day

May we make ourselves deserving enough for the freedom we have got.

I BAY ON A HOLIDAY
- Jaykumar Shah

I got up to the sound of Lata's sweet melody today,
"Zara aankh mein bharlo pani", it said on a holiday,

I thought my TV was loud, I saw my geyser shout,
I saw a huge electricity bill, it was time to get it out,
I stood up, took the Baggry's Muesli, have to plan,
A movie, some friends, a few drinks down with elan,

My mom says, we got to go for society's flag hoisting,
People gulping samosas with tea, hypocricy foisting,
A thought passed me, and a tv talk played back,
Inflation, Infrastructure, Ingenuity, power outblack;


I curse the government, I curse the administration,
They care for themselves alone, no common ration,
I curse as I move out to bring the tickets for the show,
See the beggars on road, see the dirty paan spit flow,


If this is the life I am going to get for my taxes and pain,
I am going to use my first chance to get back to Britain,
There the life is good, the roads are fine, scotch is nice,
And here people fight for a shelter and a bowl of rice,

I get the tickets, thank god I was on time, I glow,
Coming back, I see the slums, the dirty water flow,
The samosas and tea are over and its time for the flag,
Befor the anthem, I rush back to them throwing my bag,

As I bring my hands above my head, a rising salute,
What fills my heart with pride? anthem sings the flute,
"Jana Gana Mana Adhinayak Jaye hai" flows out,
I think what the poet then must have thought about,

O ruler of mind, O the writer of destiny, O god same,
Vindhya Himachal and from Ganga we chant your name,
We pray, he must have thought for a nation victorious,
Jai hai, Jai Hai he said, as we sing that prespostorous,

We never understood what he had to say but we sang,
I stand there, thought of it, and the thought hit me bang,
He wrote of a country whose Jay-gatha coud be sung,
He wrote of a country whose victories be in all rung,

I thought of the government I cursed and the beggar,
I saw others singing with a pride and ignorance bigger,
All walk out of this, Samosas making them fuller,
If others dont work, we would go back to our ruler,

Yes I too am singing my anthem feeling all pride,
But did I groom my self well for this poet's bride,
Did I live up to the become bharat's bhagya vidhata,
Did I stop when they fought being gujarat-maratha,
"No" Came the answer from deep with in me,
How could I curse others when true I couldnt be,
With hypocricy, with guilt, with sadness I bay,
Jay hai jay hai jay hai jay jay jay jay hai.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Beauty Is Skin Deep

Beauty is just skin deep they say. They are right. But it is our love for the fairer, the good looking that makes us keep the one who are not deprived. We have in our mind, a block against the less beautiful, less charming, less smart and less outgoing. We have a prejudice. This poem is for all of them whom I think are equally beautiful and many a times a lot more beautiful than the ones who get undue importance for their looks. Lets shed our prejudices.

Beauty Is Skin Deep
Jaykumar Shah
We were siblings, she was my sister,
Twins we were, but she was fairer,
Her eyes were blue, features sharp,
Her voice was mellow, She liked lark,
She was beautiful without a blot,
And she was all that I was not
All loved her, ugly me had dearth,
My Grandma exclaimed at our birth,
"What a beautiful child I have got!"
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

Together we grew, we shared a life,
She was the fork, and I the knife,
Everyone kissed her, gave me a hug,
She grew smarter, I a silent bug,
In family and pals, to fame she shot,
I knew since then,
She was beatuiful and I was not.

To schools we went and colleges too,
For her, to me, the boys came to,
All of them wanted to take her out,
For me no bloke, my life was in rout,
For the dates, new clothes she bought,
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

There was a boy, who liked us both,
Like me he liked the tomato broth,
All three of us were friends best,
I knew, he is her, and I am the rest,
I knew one day, he would ask me for her,
One day he will say, I love your sister,
The month was January and it was fourth,
I remember, to both of us, he came forth,
"Life is long, life needs a partner,
To share the joy, to share laughter",
We knew he was now making expected move,
She looked him in eye, and I in shoe,
"I would be happy and life full of glee,"
He turned to me, "will you marry me?"
I could not react, not even a smile,
To reply with zest, I waited a while,
I thought disheartened she would be,
The man she loved, I knew was he,
I looked at her, a big smile she had got,
I knew since then,
She was beautiful and I was not.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

I am A Clown - A Poem

I AM A CLOWN
-Jaykumar Shah
The bells rang, the theatre is set,
The audience is here and I am dressed,
For today I am the clown sans fret,
And yesterday I was the boy supressed.

I act, leaving my self in the green room,
I close myself in a trunk and turn puppet,
Or am I a puppet when I dont clown around,
Dancing on the tunes, that the others set.

I jump from the horse, I run after dwarfs,
Falling from the sky I catch girls' scarfs,
They laugh at me, the hero takes it all,
I have to be ready tomorrow for another fall

They go, enjoying my failed clowing flight,
My rags they might not and not even my plight,
I am back in to the room, a place I dont own,
I take myself out, wearing down the clown,
I dont belong to my life, to its tune neither,
I am an actor, I am a clown, I prefer either,

I love to live my life, leaving my self away,
I love to see them smile and ridicule my way,
I love to be on stage, as that is my game ball,
Still I wish, I wish I am not the one to fall.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Tribute to Hazaaron Khwahishein Aisi

These days I have been hearing a lot of Gazals from Ghalib. Was so inspired by it that I have tried extending one of the most famous of his gazals by two verses of my own. My tribute to the greatest poet of all time in Urdu.

हज़ारों ख्वाहिशें ऐसी के हर ख्वाहिश पे दम निकले,
बहुत निकले मेरे अरमान लेकिन फिर भी कम निकले.


मुझे उस राह-ए-मज़ाज़ी ना था जाना कभी लेकिन,
चला जब में तो मुझसे मेरे मुनकीर कदम निकले

(Raah-e-mazazi : way of the materialistic, munkir : atheist / one who doesnt believe)

घुटन इस बज़म-ए-कुश मे नामंज़ूर हमें फिर भी
ना हम जा सके ना उनसे मुदब्बिर रहम निकले

(Bazm-e-Kush : Happy crowd, mudabbir - Judicious)

P.S. have tried writing this in urdu which isnt first , second or third language to me. I have tried using minimum vocab and dictionary to best suit the poetry for my thought. Apologies if I have used it incorrectly, please feel free to correct me.

One Gujarati Poem - Jeevan to vistar "Tu"

પ્રેમ તૂ, ને છે પારાવાર તૂ,
મુજ મા મુજ થી સાકાર તૂ,
વિસ્તાર જીવન નો બસ 'તૂ',
મારા બ્રહ્માંડ નો આકાર તૂ;

રમી જગત થી ભાગતો રહુ,
ઘર મા વસતો છે કરાર તૂ,
તૂ સંત-વાણી ને સંસાર તૂ,
તૂ ભોમયો ને ભૂલ્યો દ્વાર તૂ;

તારા કને સહુ માંગતા રહ્યા,
સહુનો લેતો નથી આભાર તૂ,
ક્યારેક દરિયા ની અંધાધુંધી,
તરસ્યા નળ મા જળધાર તૂ;

પૂજસ્થાન પર પૂજતા રહ્યા,
ગીતા નો ક્યારેક કથા-સાર તૂ
મંદિરો ની પ્રસાદી મા ક્યા હતો,
ભૂખ્યા લોકો નો હતો આહાર તૂ;
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