उस दर से मेरी सदा ही दुरी रखना


Ek Duaa

Ek Duaa

उस दर से मेरी सदा ही दुरी रखना,
गुज़रकर जहाँ से लोगों के ईमान बदलते हो..

दब जाती हो चींख जहाँ सिक्कों की खनक में,
भूल जाते हो जाके खुद के वजूद को,
उस तेज से हमको महरूम ही रखना,
देख जिसको एक बार और कुछ दीखता नहीं हो..


Us dar se meri sadaa hi duri rakhna,
guzarkar jahan se logon ke eeman badalte ho..
dab jaati ho cheekh jahan sikkon ki khanak mein,
bhul jaate ho jaake khud ke wajood ko,
us tej se humko mahroom hi rakhna,
dekh jisko ek baar aur kuchh dikhta nahin ho..

Why are you here on this earth?

An old Man from ISKON Temple Kurukshetra, whom i met last night in the train, asked to me “Why are you here on this earth”? When he asked this, for few seconds i found myself blank and was thinking that what to say to this old man that i want to live a better life with my family, i want to get married with a girl whom i love, i want to spend my morning watching sun and writing new lies on paper, i want to blame more and more this corrupt government and voting system and many more things which i love to do. I didn’t said these things and simply said that I am here to live my life.
He again questioned, animals are also living their life then what’s the difference between them n u? I said that they are living their life and we too but difference is that we are thinking of others and can help each other, we are responsible to make this world better.
I tried my best to convince him that i know why i am on this earth and he look satisfied with my answer. He said Krishna you seems a good guy just observe yourself, ask you inner self and if possible try to spend your life with keeping Krishna in your Heart, You will see the change on your face and will found peace in your heart.

Like a new student i said Thik hai.

तुम बढ़ के वीर, उसे गले लगाओ..

मौसम माशूक़ सा प्यारा हो,
या तेज सूरज झुलसाने आया हो..
आज भीनी हवा स्फूर्ति बढ़ाती हो,
या कठोर ठण्ड डराने आया हो..
कर्मपथ के वीरों तुम रुकना मत,
चाहे रोकने आया आज सारा ज़माना हो..

हे, इस सामान्य पथ के असामान्य पथिकों,
तुम कर्मठ सबमें विशेष हो..
जो भी तय की है,  मंजिल तुमने,
मानो उन्हीं को पूरा करने आये हो..

मत सोचो कभी ये,  है मंजिल दूर,
जानो, वो तो राह में तेरे बैठी है,
आएगा उसका चहेता, अगले ही क्षण,
ऐसे अरमान सजाये बैठी है..

तुम हो पथिक अपना धर्म निभाओ,
बस मंजिल को बढ़ते जाओ..
देखो वो भी दे रही है आवाज़,
की इन मोड़ों से तुम मत घबराओ..
अगले क्षण में मिलने को वो आतुर,
तुम बढ़ के वीर, उसे गले लगाओ..

– सन्नी कुमार

The last cab ride

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.

Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.

“Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice.

I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80′s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.

“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”

“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”

“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”

I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.

“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”

We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.

“Nothing,” I said.

“You have to make a living,” she answered.

“There are other passengers.”

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.

“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”

I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

[A true story by Kent Nerburn]

Source- Web World