The Wife of a Warrior

I wait for you as the sun descends,
I wait for you till morning mends.
Through changing seasons, my heart's refrain,
Alone I wait, amidst joy and pain.

I know your purpose, the task you bear,
To earn our keep, you toil and care.
In the furnace of solitude, I burn,
For your return, my love, I yearn.

Your smiles and hugs, my guiding light,
Illuminate my world, banish the night.
Without you near, days lose their spark,
In the depths of longing, I embark.

To breathe, to live, a daily strife,
An endless wait, a challenging life.
Yet, you venture forth to earn our bread,
In solitude's fire, my soul is spread.

You fight for us, a noble quest,
Struggling on, doing your best.
While I spend my nights in quiet despair,
Like leaves falling in autumn air.

Come back to me, my heart implores,
Reunite with love, that sweet discourse.
The world is barren without your grace,
Yearns for the warmth of your embrace.

You're called to duty, to earn and strive,
To ensure our future, in which we'll thrive.
Enough of distance, enough of pain,
Come back, my love, let joy regain.

Together, we'll sip tea in evening's glow,
Watch the sun set, its golden show.
In your arms, my sanctuary found,
Worldly treasures, we'll leave unbound.

 The lush green field echoes my plea,
The dove in flight, a symphony.
Stars in the sky, a chorus above,
All sing, "Come back to the one you love."

My Journey

I walked with you past the beds of roses,
Hand in hand, where love composes.
You vowed to stay, my soul's one light,
A promise eternal, through day and night.

We sang, we laughed, life brimmed with bliss,
Every moment sealed with a tender kiss.
Yet shadows crept where dreams once lay,
And joy, like fleeting dusk, slipped away.

I search, I ache, for answers untold,
The pain lingers, the nights grow cold.
I cry, I crumble, bound to the past,
In chains of memories that hold me fast.

I was a girl, my heart aglow,
With dreams of love's unending flow.
But to you, I was a fleeting desire,
A vessel to stoke your selfish fire.

Daughters are burdens, our culture says,
Our worth weighed down in dowry's haze.
From brothel whispers to marriage vows,
Society decrees, and daughters bow.

When we dated, you spoke so true,
“No dowry matters, I love only you.”
But promises fade when greed takes hold,
And love is bartered for glittering gold.

“You and I are a perfect pair,”
You whispered sweetly, beyond compare.
But at your home, I was cast to toil,
A life of servitude, dreams to spoil.

From dawn to dusk, I bore the strain,
Two lives to lead, yet nothing to gain.
Your love turned cold, your words grew few,
The woman you cherished, forgotten too.

Festivals come with joy for some,
For me, they’re shadows where demands come from.
My parents, bound by tradition’s chain,
Gave till their tears could hide the pain.

Spring once sang with fragrant air,
Now it whispers of my despair.
Buds bloom, leaves fall, the cycle turns,
Yet in my heart, a sorrow burns.

Remember the night of roses and stars?
The moonlit glow erased all scars.
Rippling waters bore our vow,
A love so pure—what happened now?

Had you loved me for who I am,
Not as a pawn in society's sham,
Had you seen the wounds I tried to hide,
Perhaps our story wouldn’t have died.

“Marriages are made in heaven,” they say,
Yet heaven seems so far away.
When love is lost to greed’s cruel hold,
Even beauty withers, even hearts grow cold.

To you, my husband, I gave my all,
Yet you let my joy and spirit fall.
Was I to be a servant, meek and mild?
A shadow of love, neither wife nor child?

My mornings, my nights, my soul were yours,
Yet love shut its unforgiving doors.
I was plain, I was simple, my love was true,
But none of it mattered—not to you.

To every daughter, every woman who dreams,
May love be pure, not torn at the seams.
May hearts be free from chains of greed,
And life be nourished by love’s true seed.

To you, my Man

It was just an ordinary day,
But you turned it into magic in your way.
Days, months and years have flown,
Yet that moment remains the most beautiful I've known.

The evening stars whispered their light,
A melody lingered, soft and bright.
You tried your best to win my heart,
For in love’s game, you played your part.

Deep inside, I felt the stir,
A quiet song, a gentle whisper.
But words eluded, I couldn't say,
Until your arms took me away.

You held me close, time stood still,
The world vanished, bent to your will.
The moonlight danced upon the stream,
As we became one, within a dream.

I loved you, and you loved me,
A fate entwined, a destiny.
Your love, a warmth that made me whole,
The sweetest song that touched my soul.

"Thank you" feels too small a phrase,
To honor the love you give and raise.
My man, my friend, my guide you are,
My perfect match, my brightest star.

To you, I give all of me,
A heart that's yours for eternity.
No one else was meant to be,
For me, there’s only you, endlessly.

 

On The Road To Paradise

चारों ओर बिछी हुई बर्फ की सफेद चादर, देवदार तथा चीड़ के पेड़ों से गिरते बर्फ के टुकड़े सच में यहाँ आने वालों को नई दुनिया का आभास देते हैं। जिधर नजर दौड़ाएँ, बस बर्फ ही बर्फ दिखती है और उस पर दिखते हैं बर्फ के खेलों का आनंद उठाते हुए लोग जो देश के विभिन्न भागों से आते हैं।हर शख्स कह उठता है : 'अगर धरती पर कहीं स्वर्ग है तो यहीं है, यहीं है, यहीं है।'

अब जबकि वादी बर्फ की चादर ओढ़ चुकी है। चिनार के पेड़ सुर्ख हो चुके हैं। पहाड़ों पर शीन की चमक से लगता है जैसे चाँदी का वर्क डाल दिया गया हो। वादी के इसी नजारे को तो जन्नत कहते हैं और जन्नत का शौक रखने वालों के लिए यही माकूल समय होता है सैर करने का।

राज्य में यूँ तो कई पर्यटन स्थल हैं जहाँ जाने की चाहत हर आने वाले पर्यटक की होती है पर गुलमर्ग, सोनमर्ग, पहलगाम जाए बिना शायद ही कोई रह पाता हो।

सबसे पहले बात करते हैं गुलमर्ग की। यह कश्मीर संभाग के बारामूला जिले में स्थित है। यह श्रीनगर से 57 किलोमीटर की दूरी पर है। गुलमर्ग में स्कीइंग, गोल्फ कोर्स, विश्व की सबसे ऊँची केबल कार है।

हमने इससे पहले सपने में भी इतनी खूबसूरत जगह नहीं देखी थी । ऐसा लगk  हम किसी और दुनिया में आ गए हैं।

पहलगाम को बॉलीवुड के कारण पहचान मिली है क्योंकि इसके आसपास स्थित अरू वैली तथा बेताव वैली में कई फिल्मों की शूटिंग हो चुकी है और अमरनाथ की यात्रा का परंपरागत रास्ता भी यहीं से है। लिद्दर नदी के दोनों ओर बसे पहलगाम की सुंदरता अपनी मिसाल आप है। यहाँ पर घुड़सवारी, ट्रैकिंग, गोल्फ, फिशिंग आदि की पूरी सुविधा है। 

कहते हैं पहाड़ों वाली माता वैष्णो देवी सबकी मुरादें पूरी करती हैं। उसके दरबार में जो कोई सच्चे दिल से जाता है, उसकी हर मुराद पूरी होती है। ऐसा ही सच्चा दरबार है- माता वैष्णो देवी का।

 

माता का बुलावा आने पर भक्त किसी न किसी बहाने से दरबार पहुँच जाता है। हसीन वादियों में त्रिकूट पर्वत पर गुफा में विराजित माता वैष्णो देवी का स्थान हिंदुओं का एक प्रमुख तीर्थ स्थल है, जहाँ दूर-दूर से लाखों श्रद्धालु माँ के दर्शन के लिए आते हैं।

माँ वैष्णो देवी यात्रा की शुरुआत कटरा से होती है। अधिकांश यात्री यहाँ विश्राम करके अपनी यात्रा की शुरुआत करते हैं। माँ के दर्शन के लिए रातभर यात्रियों की चढ़ाई का सिलसिला चलता रहता है। कटरा से ही माता के दर्शन के लिए नि:शुल्क 'यात्रा पर्ची' मिलती है।

पूरी यात्रा में स्थान-स्थान पर जलपान व भोजन की व्यवस्था है। इस कठिन चढ़ाई में आप थोड़ा विश्राम कर चाय, कॉफी पीकर फिर से उसी जोश से अपनी यात्रा प्रारंभ कर सकते हैं।

Our Travelogue published in Navbharat Times - 05.04.2016

Iskcon - Sultanpur Road, Lucknow

लखनऊ के शोर और भीड़-भाड़ से दूर, सुल्तानपुर रोड पर, एक शांत और पवित्र जगह है – इस्कॉन का श्री श्री राधा रमण बिहारी जी मंदिर। कभी-कभी दिल में आती है एक मंथन की आवाज़, एक आकांक्षा जो किसी अलौकिक अनुभव की ओर खींचती है। आज वैसा ही एक दिन था, जब हमने सोचा कि पूरे परिवार के साथ चल पड़ें कृष्ण और राधा के दर्शन करने।

हज़रतगंज से शहीद पथ के रास्ते पर चलते हुए, मन में एक सुकून की लहर थी, जैसे कुछ अद्भुत मिलने वाला हो। मंदिर पहुँचे तो एक अलग ही जगत का अनुभव हुआ—हरियाली से घिरी वो सुंदर वाटिका, जैसे प्रकृति स्वयं राधा और कृष्ण के स्वागत में सज गई हो। फूलों की खुशबू और तितलियों की चंचल उड़ान, ये सब मिलकर मन को प्रसन्न कर रहे थे।

मंदिर के पीछे बनी गौशाला देखने का सुख अनोखा था। कृष्ण की प्रिय गायों के बीच हम खड़े थे, और जैसे ही हमने उन्हें गुड़ खिलाया, वो सब हमारे पास आ गईं, जैसे अपने प्रिय दोस्त से मिलने आई हों।

मंदिर में एक शांति थी, लेकिन साथ ही हर तरफ "हरे कृष्ण, हरे राम" की ध्वनि गूँज रही थी, जो मन को एक अलग ही शांति और आनंद से भर रही थी। शहर की दौड़-भाग से दूर, इस मंदिर में सिर्फ एक पवित्र सुकून और प्राकृतिक खूबसूरती थी।

 

शाम को 7 बजे, आरती का समय आया। भजन और कीर्तन की मधुर धुन, मंदिर के हर कोने में गूँज रही थी। मंदिर में सभी भक्त अपनी भक्ति में मग्न थे—नाच रहे थे, गा रहे थे। आरती के ताल से ताल मिलाकर हम भी नाचने लगे, जैसे भगवान की इस दिव्य महफिल का हिस्सा बन गए हों।

आरती के बाद प्रसाद का वितरण हुआ। मंदिर छोड़ने का समय आया, पर ऐसा लगा जैसे हम अपना तन यहाँ लेकर जा रहे हों, पर मन और आत्मा वहीं छोड़ आए हों। जाने से पहले हमने कृष्ण से बस इतना कहा, "हे कृष्ण, हमें फिर से बुलाना। मेरे तो गिरिधर गोपाल, दूसरो ना कोई..."

यह सफर नहीं, एक आत्मा का कृष्ण के दर्शन का अनुभव था, जो हमेशा दिल में जीवित रहेगा।

The Dove

When the sun spills its crimson hue,
And roses lie bathed in morning dew,
A lone heart whispers to the evening star,
Wishing for release from a pain so far.

Broken vows, shattered hearts,
Wounds so deep, they tear apart.
Days and months may pass in vain,
Yet scars endure, etched with pain.

Life yearns for love, selfless and true,
But wonders where such dreams come through.
Now, love is tied to strings of demand,
Kind words slip through an empty hand.

Memories linger, relentless foes,
Haunting dreams in shadowed throes.
The days of love, they softly creep,
Through windows of the past, they peep.

The laburnum blooms, golden bright,
Echoing whispers of stolen light.
Its gentle touch on a bruised soul's plea,
Brings balm to nights of agony.

They said love surpasses all, divine,
A sacred haven where hearts align.
Two souls as one, eternal and free,
A joyful place where life's meant to be.

Yet I, a dove with feathers pure,
Crave a love so vast, so sure.
To feel its warmth, to touch its grace,
Though fate has carved a different space.

I long for wings to meet my own,
A tender love I’ve never known.
If only once, its touch could bless,
This craving soul, this emptiness.

Letter of a wife to her drug addict husband

Life will never be the same again.
Perhaps because life doesn’t offer retakes. There’s no editing, deleting, or undoing once things are done.

I find myself haunted by the memories of those quiet evening teas, the sweet scent of rain as we danced under the monsoon showers, and the laughter that followed every little thing we celebrated.

I long for the home I built with my own hands, where every corner felt alive, filled with warmth. A home that opened its doors to me each night, welcoming me in my exhaustion, where peace and love lived in every room.

You gave me everything a woman could dream of.
The quiet assurance that your eyes would seek only me, until your very last breath. The promise to stand by me through every storm, no matter how furious I might be. You always faced me with love, patiently riding out my tempests.

Yes, I was quick to anger. But we always made up, didn’t we?
Do you remember how I loved surprising you? Cooking your favorite meal, planning a trip just for us, booking a movie night when you least expected it.
I loved you in ways I never knew I could. In you, I found a fragile, lost soul I longed to protect, to give every ounce of joy this world could offer.

"In secret we met,
In silence, I grieve,
That thy heart could forget,
Thy spirit deceive."

My terrace, my room, our bed—the walls adorned with our memories, the shelves decorated with flowers and statues we picked out together. They weren’t just things; they were pieces of us.
That home was my pride, the warmest place I knew, where the air hummed with life and love.

Do you remember the saplings I planted on our terrace? They blossomed so quickly, their flowers calling to bees and butterflies. We’d sit there for hours, sipping tea as we cared for those plants, our quiet moments of peace.

These days, I often forget things, but some memories have carved themselves so deeply into my heart that I could never erase them, even if I tried. But why must memories be so painful?

The other day, while cleaning, I came across an old medical report.
Do you remember that day? After your father beat me, you rushed me to the doctor. I was bleeding, my body bruised and broken, my clothes torn. I couldn’t even stand.
Yet, I didn’t leave. I stayed with you. Because I believed you weren’t responsible for what your father did. I couldn’t abandon you in a world where even the closest ones betray.

I have a new life now. I’m married to a good man—successful, caring, and attentive. I have everything anyone could ask for—expensive clothes, beautiful shoes, a luxurious life. I look perfect on the outside.
But you know what? I can’t sleep. All the wealth in the world cannot buy me a peaceful night’s rest.
I would give it all away, every bit of it, just to sleep peacefully once more.

Remember how I used to sing for you? I would sing for hours, and you’d sit there, showering me with praise after each song.
I no longer have the time to sing, and my voice isn’t what it used to be. I grow tired so easily now. Life has become something I struggle to endure. You told me once that I sang beautifully. No one else tells me that now.
Do you remember how I taught you to play the harmonium?

Why did you choose lies over truth? Why did you pick hatred over love?
Why did you choose drugs over me?

Life will never be the same for me because I’m just a shadow of what I once was.
My husband is a kind and wonderful man. He loves me, spoils me, and takes care of my every need. But sometimes, he reminds me that by marrying me, he did me a favor.
After all, I’m a divorcee, someone society looks down upon. He’s a gem of a man for accepting me, for giving me a place in his life.

Why did you choose drugs over me?
I’ll never forgive you for taking my home away, for stealing my peaceful nights, my smile, and my innocence.
You promised to change for me, to leave your bad habits behind.

"Thy vows are all broken,
And light is thy fame:
I hear thy name spoken,
And share in its shame."

Do you know I’ve started graying?
But not gracefully.
A few days ago, I found my first white hair, and all I could think was how you would’ve laughed, teasing me endlessly if you’d seen it.

You always said I’d gray before you. Have you started graying yet?
Do you remember how we promised to grow old together?
Now, I’ll grow old with my husband, this gem of a person.

I swear, I don’t miss you.
I miss the days filled with sunshine. I miss the moments that felt so alive.
I miss the home whose every corner embraced me like an old friend.
You were a boy without a home, and I gave you one. But you took mine away. You made me homeless.
You were alone, and I offered to be your friend, your confidante, your guardian, and your partner for life. But you left me, abandoning me to a society that treats me like dirt.
How could you see me as an option?

"If I should meet thee
After long years,
How should I greet thee?
With silence and tears."

** A humble request to all those battling addiction to smoking, alcohol, or drugs:

We only die once—so die with dignity.
Why destroy yourself day by day? Why destroy the ones who love you?
Separation, divorce—these tear lives apart. The scars never fade, and those left behind are never the same again. They are treated as lesser, taken for granted.

Live life. Love life. Cherish those who love you.
Live fully—live deeply. Never let go.

The Story of Shadaab Bhai

It was the 25^th of December 2015, the Christmas day & the city was beautifully decorated with lights of different colours, balloons, candles, streamers.

People flocked the streets wearing Santa Caps and clothes of red and white colour.

There was joy in the air.

I have been living in this city for the last two years and have grown to like it. The simplicity of the people of this area has always attracted me.

During Christmas, Hazratganj area of Lucknow witnesses a huge crowd. The Cathedral Church located here is wonderfully decorated and you can hear Christmas carols being played all day long.

Cathedral Church, Hazratganj

After seeking divine blessings, we moved out of the church. We had planned to have a wonderful dinner at Dastarkhwan, but to our utter disappointment, when we reached there, it was crowded beyond imagination. We could not wait for long as it was already very late.

With heavy hearts, we decided to go back home and have our dinner at home itself. As we turned to leave, we chanced to come across a little shop with no customers. It had a clumsy, old look which was the obvious reason why there were no customers there. The sight of roasted chicken displayed, brought water in our mouths. Nonetheless the look of the shop was not attractive enough to allure us to sit and have something there.

Reluctantly, we asked the shopkeeper the rate for roasted chicken and the rate was comparatively less from the other shops around, but still at the back of our hearts we were not convinced to have it doubting whether the things would be hygienic enough. We finally decided to leave without having anything, but the shopkeeper kept insisting that we should give his dishes a try, saying that no other shop in that area would be able to beat the taste of his dishes.

Finally we decided to try it out and sat down at the shop. The owner busily started preparing roasted chicken for us.

After few minutes, he served us the delicious dish and to our utter surprise, it was really awesome & so home like. He won our hearts immediately.

After having the chicken, my husband wanted to have a piece of the plum cake that I had brought for him. I cut a big slice and gave it to him.

The shopkeeper had been watching us. Coming closer, he asked whether it was the birthday of any of us. We told him that it was just a Christmas Cake.

Teasingly, I asked him, “Why do you ask us bhaiya? Do you serve complimentary dishes to the ones who have their birthdays?”

He said, “No no, it doesn’t matter if its your birthday or not, I will serve you chicken biryani as complimentary.”

Saying so, he offered us fresh, hot chicken biryani and we were more than happy to savour it.

Our Christmas Tree shaped Plum Cake

While leaving as we were paying the bill, he refused to accept the payment for the biryani. We kept insisting, but he was reluctant. He kept saying that it was complimentary for his sister. His calling me sister won my heart & my husband’s as well. We, kind of felt a bond with this stranger. We offered him a piece of plum cake and he was delighted. We left with beautiful feelings in our hearts.

Not every man has the heart to offer so much love to strangers and within few minutes, this shopkeeper became a part of our hearts. He was a magi for us, whom we met on the eve of Christmas.

Ever since then, we have been visiting his shop at least twice a week and he has been treating us with his delicious dishes at fifty percent discount, and never hesitates before throwing in something complimentary from his side, saying that we were his family. Of course his never ending tales about his family are a real entertainment which we soulfully listen to while devouring the delicacies offered by our very own Shadaab Bhai.