
Dr Abnish Singh Chauhan (1979), the editor of two online journals– Creation and Criticism and IJHER and a Hindi magazine – Poorvabhas, is presently serving as a Professor and Principal, BIU College of Humanities & Journalism, Bareilly International University, Bareilly. He has authored a number of books including Swami Vivekananda: Select Speeches, Speeches of Swami Vivekananda and Subhash Chandra Bose: A Comparative Study, The Fictional World of Arun Joshi: Paradigm Shift in Values and Tukda Kagaz Ka (A collection of Hindi Lyrics).
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On Meeting
A spring bloom
always gives
hope and joy to me.A hope—
to fly
like a butterflyA joy—
to smile
like a baby’s eyes.But
Spring
turns gradually
in Autumn
making me
sad and blue.Is it the cycle of Time
or some type of democracy
In this temporal world?Spring—
if comes,
never goes
in the world of psyche
where a bloom
opens ever
and closes never
on meeting the BLOOM.
समय की धार ही तो है
समय की धार ही तो है
किया जिसने विखंडित घरन भर पाती हमारे
प्यार की गगरी
पिता हैं गाँव
तो हम हो गए शहरीग़रीबी में जुड़े थे सब
तरक्की ने किया बेघरखुशी थी तब
गली की धूल होने में
उमर खपती यहाँ
अनुकूल होने मेंमुखौटों पर हँसी चिपकी
कि सुविधा संग मिलता डरपिता की ज़िंदगी थी
कार्यशाला-सी
जहाँ निर्माण में थे-
स्वप्न, श्रम, खाँसीकि रचनाकार असली वे
कि हम तो बस अजायबघरबुढ़ाए दिन
लगे साँसें गवाने में
शहर से हम भिड़े
सर्विस बचाने मेंकहाँ बदलाव ले आया
शहर है या कि है अजगर |
Not A Rebeller
A time comes
when his heart and mind rebel
and chastise—’This is enough.’But, the force of feelings in him
subsides after a while
as if it is a periodic process
and nothing else.Garrulously talking at mealtime,
daydreaming while meditating,
falling asleep with the television on
or sitting on internet for hours.Gossiping in the canteen,
taking interest in rumors,
making rumors
or criticizing others.Doing nothing properly,
getting annoyed too easily,
lying at sixes and sevens
and on being caught, saying— no, no.On being fed up with all this,
his heart and mind rebel
and want some big change.But, it seems to him
nothing is going to change in his life.
He is a slave to his habits,
not a rebeller— yes.
Vijantah
O Lord Krishna!
On Holi
I wish to see
your colourful leelas
in Golok Vrindavan
with Radharani and other friends.I traverse to your Shri-dham
with full faith and hope
and there only darshan
BANKEY BIHARI
thronged with pujaris,
pandas and other agents
playing Holi with the devotees
in the compound.They say—
YOU also live within
I search you there too
day and night
and only see
the endless darkness,
no hue.O help me, my FRIEND!
to become vijantah—
one who knows YOU
and one’s unique colours of soul.
A Blank Call
Many things were left
to be shared with her
since the first meeting
in a local train.We traveled
in the same train
for years.I can’t remember
how many times
we met
but I can recall
how many times
we departed.One day
she left the train
forever
then I knew
the meaning of a blank call.
A Paper
Sometimes rises
Falls now and then
Twists and strives
To fly again
From birth to end
A paper— it is simply known.Sometimes brims its eyes
With hunger-pain
Speaks out its mind
Before the insensitive clan
Frets and fumes
A paper— it is simply known.When entrapped,
Dances like a spindle
In broken pieces of mirror
Sees its capsized facesAt intervals, overtaken by events
A paper— it is simply known.Sometimes burns like coal
Like ashes weeps
When mingled with soil
It ever sleeps
Gets hoed with ploughing
A paper— it is simply known.