Tomorrow...

Some days start with a bright sunshine

Some grey with clouds, or crystal rain

Some bring spring and love in air

Some stained pillows and battered pain...

Some bring to you a long lost friend

And some bring dreams of morrow

Some bound with joy, and heaps of pleasure

Some great despair and sorrow...

Some days the postman brings a mail

From a love long lost in a distant town

Some day affray an ally lost

Some angry words and an arrogant frown

Some days you miss your bus to work

And slip on a stray banana peal

Call it a bad one, damned, cursed day

You would know how it can feel

And times a perfect morning comes

With an aura of the times gone

And that one perfect sun that brings

An amber almost perfect dawn

Yet if I ask you dear friend

The best day of your life

I wonder what a tale you'd tell

Was that just once or twice?

A perfect day that never comes

Or is it just each day?

A perfect day a notch too good

Or a bit to off the way...

An unexpected gift it brings

Or brings great accomplishments

Would it be like two spoons sugar

Or like some rare condiments?

You ask me for my perfect day,

I would chose none above...

For it shall be a day not rare

But one that starts with hope

A day which starts of hope to find

A old letter in a book

An old affinity coming back

A long lost love's last look...

The day which starts with hope and promise

And ends with pure dejection

The day that brings some gloom at end

And a heart tearing rejection

For no day can be perfect so

To be perfect till the end

But only if it starts in faith

Before anguish extends...

For anguish of each dying night

Brings dreams in dead despair

A dream which is the key to morrow

In comfort dreams are rare.

When I sleep with peace in me

I drift to an unseen place

I have no zest for the day to come

No raw emotions to disgrace

And with an ache in heart or two

I spin reels of reverie

For the next day must bring with it

The long lost bounds of treasury...

And so my love when I'm with you

My days are like a dream

But when not so there is still hope

The hope that is called tomorrow...

~Saba

ma'mun

photo  copyright: anjali 

 जाते जाते जब

इक शाख ने दामन थामने की कोशिश की

हमने उसे कांटो की बेअदबी समझा

झिड़क कर चले आये...

बहुत दूर तक

पीछा करती रही

उन डालियों की रफीक (friend)

चहचहाहट...

और याद आती रही

बाद -ए -सबा (breeze) में उडती

रंगीन तितलियों सी

नाज़ुक पारो वाली

लम्हों की हसास  (sensitive) लड़ी।

बारिश के कतरों  में पिरोई , 
छुपायी  अश्को की माला

और  हाथो  की लकीरों में

नमी के साथ बैठे

नमकीन गर्द के टुकरे।

फिर धीरे धीरे

एक  धुंधलके के  पीछे

सब  ग़ुम हो गया।

मगर आज तक

उस बुस्ताने  (garden) की अराज (fragrance)

मेरे घर के एक कोने में मिलती है

जैसे मेरी यादो में मामून  (safe) है

हर पत्ता उन पेड़ो का ...

~ सबा 

photo  copyright: anjali 

jate jate jab

ik shakh ne daman thamne ki koshish ki

humne use kaanto ki beadbi samjha

jhidak kar chale aaye...

bahut dur tak

picha karti rahi

un daliyo ki rafeeq (friend)

chahchahahat...

aur yaad aate rahi

wo bad-e-saba (breeze) me udti

rangeen titliyo si

nazuk paro wali lamho ki nazuk si ladi.

Barish ke qatro me

piroyi chupi hui ashko ki mala

aur mere hatho ki lakiro me

nami ke sath baithe

gard ke namkeen se tukre...

phir dheeme dheeme

ek dhundhalke ke peeche

sab ghum ho gaya...

Magar aaj tak

us bastane (garden) ki araj (fragrance)

mere ghar ke ek kone me milti hai

jaise meri yado me ma'mun (safe) hai

har patta un pedo ka...

photo  copyright: anjali