Pseudo poetry is the only way in which I can express an angst. I am no longer the student who could arrange for/ lead protests. Don't look for metre or rhyme here- this is just an angst expressed.
Poora June nikal gaya,
Ek boond baarish ki nahi tapki.
Rui jaise baadal aasmaan pe dikh jaate hain kabhi,
Magar aisa lagta hai ki jaise
Baarish ke dhaage bune nahi hain abhi.
Aisa lagta hai baarish hartaal pe hai abhi!
Kal raat Gurgaon mein jamke baarish hui.
Sadak pe parivahan ruk sa gaya.
Tapakti boondon ki awaaz reh gayi ansuni,
Ek kolaahal sa mach gaya.
Aisa nahi laga ki boondein dharti ko choom rahi hain.
Aisa laga ki jaise boondein dharti ko chubb si rahi hain.
Na jaane kyun aisa laga ki,
Is baar ye baarish dharti ki pyaas ko dekhkar,
Us pyaas ko bujhaane nahi aayi hai.
Na paed hai yahaan, na paudhe.
Aankhen hariyaali ki ek jhalak ke liye taras si jaati hain.
Jahaan talak nazar jaati hai,
Sirf eent-cement ke imaarat dikhte hain,
Aur diesel se janitr dhuaan.
Aisa laga ki jaise,
Dharti ki tadap ko samajhkar,
Aasman bhaavuk sa ho gaya.
Uske palak jo abhi tak baandh se bane huey the,
Woh toot se gaye.
Aankhon se kuch aansoo ke boond gire zameen par,
Yahaan Gurgaon ke log khushi manaa rahe hain.
