कोई जिसको हरा ना पाये वह खुद अपने मन से हारा

Sometimes, there are stories that just stay with you forever. They create a magic that leaves you hypnotized. They touch you with a caress that lasts forever. Their imprint speaks in ways you cannot express or articulate. 

There is one such story I read a few days back from For His Shelf....An Expression of Turbulence Inside. It is just one of the many flawless, mesmerizing poems by the writer. 

The story she weaves here is one that grips you by the exceptional choice of words. There is a flow, a melody that sings to you when you read it. The conclusion is left for the reader to make. And that is what hooked me for days. I kept thinking of what would be the best way to end it. The protagonist 'rajkumari' had enchanted me by her charm and grace, her purity and guilelessness. 

I attempted the conclusion and I hope it does justice to the story as a whole. 

If you wish to read the poem I have written, you have to first read the three parts. I have included the links below. Read the whole three parts as they are the context in which I write. My poem is incomplete without these gems. 

@findingnimi 

I owe you this one. I dedicate this post to your beautiful story. It touched my heart in a way very few things do. I hope that just like me, those who read this will be smitten by your charm.  

A BIG THANKS to you!

To the readers

Please read these parts before you move on.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

The conclusion I wrote - Do share your thoughts.

क्या गलत ना होता गर भोलापन नम आँखों में भीगा रहता 

और कपटी अपनी जीत पे हँसता और धोखे का बिगुल बजाता?

अम्मा मेरी कहती थीं की छल से कोई बड़ा न आगे 

कोई जिसको हरा ना पाये वह खुद अपने मन से हारा 

कुछ ऐसा ही हुआ वहां जब राक्षस अपने महल में लौटा 

मग्न हुआ मदमस्त नशे में खुद को खुदा समझ वो बैठा 

खरे ह्रदय का मोल न समझा और निरीह पर दुराचार कर 

उसने था कोमल फूल को मसला 

मूढ़ ना समझा फूल की खुशबू लिपट गयी थी उससे कुछ ऐसे 

लाख जतन कर लेता लेकिन जुदा ना खुशबू को कर पाया 

जो सबको महकाती थी उस सुगंध ने ऐसा जकड़ा उसको 

हर सांस से उसकी आह निकलती हर आह की सिसकी उसे जलाती

तप्ति अग्नि अंतर्मन की, विष से भी घहरा घाव थी देती 

बंद महल में तड़प रहा वो राक्षस कैसे किसी से कहता 

गूँज हंसी की चुभती कानों को, एक भोला चेहरा देिखता हर दम 

महकता हर एक कूचा कूचा, घोट रहा था उसका अब दम 

थक कर बलशाली टूट गया था, वापस चला वहीँ जहां से 

फूल को तोड़ा था निर्दय ने, और कुचला था निर्मल मन को 

राजकुमारी को देखा, वो आज भी खुशियां बाँट रही थी 

लेकिन कुछ खोया खोया सा उसका चंचल मन लगता था 

बिखर गया राक्षस बगिया में जैसे मोम पिघल जाती है 

दूषित मन को बिछा के नीचे कम्पित गुहार में यह कह पाया 

अहंकार में डूबा था मैं सबको मैंने हरा दिया था 

राजकुमारी तूने लेकिन मुझे आज यह सबक सिखाया 

सच्चे मन से नहीं बड़ा कुछ नहीं जीत मैं उसको सकता 

जो त्रुटिरहित है दोषरहित है कैसे मैं उसपे दाग लगाता 

तेरे उजले मन ने कुछ ऐसे इस खोटे मन पे छाप है छोड़ी 

क्षमा नहीं मिलती है मुझको नहीं चैन से मैं जी पाता 

कुछ जादू कर निर्मल मन से, मेरी कालिख अब मिट जाए 

फूल बनूँ मैं बिन काटों के तेरी बगिया को महकाऊँ 

राजकुमारी के हाथों में गुलबहार की  कुछ पंखुड़ियां थीं 

राक्षस की बातों को सुन वो पंखुड़ियां उसने वहां बिछा दीं 

अंतर्मन राक्षस का स्वच्छ हुआ एक नवजीवन अब उसने पाया 

गुलबहार बन बगिया को अब रंग और खुशबू से महकाया 

 खुश हो राजकुमारी भी अब चली बाँटने कुछ और हंसी 

बरसे बादल भी इन्द्रधनुष संग अब कुदरत भी नाच उठी 

All that she wanted was.....

Once upon a time, there was a girl. She was fascinated by the world of words. She wondered how people write so nicely. A poem was enough to mesmerize her, a word was sometimes enough to melt her. A good thought, a good book left her enchanted. For many years she sat, she read, she wondered....

One day, as she took a trip down the memory lane, she felt a sharp urge to pen down what she thought. And some magic happened. No, she did not turn into a prodigy. She just discovered a great sense of satisfaction. She shared her thoughts with some friends who congratulated her on the new journey she had undertaken.

She was happy. She kept committing herself to paper...er....blog. The passion to write was followed by a deep necessity of an audience. Of course, there were friends. But how does she reach out to a bigger circle?

She hunted other blogs. She saw almost everyone having a whopping following, varying within the range of anywhere between 100 and 500, and in some cases, even more...!!!!!

There were bloggers flaunting awards and badges, blogs teeming with comments which proved they were being revered....

PHEW! I need followers on my blog, she thought.  So, she requested friends to 'follow' her, to 'share' her posts. They all promised. A handful actually did what she had requested. She did not ask why. Everyone sure would have a good reason, she thought.

Then there was a long spell of inaction - no, not from her side. It was from the side of her audience. She was confused.

She needed, really...., badly needed something very cardinal, very essential. She needed a good number of ....well......EARS!

Anybody there....?

She wanted people to hear her. She wanted them to hear her so that she could talk to them. She wanted them to hear her in order to get the conversation started.

She looked around. She started hunting again. She held a thorough inquiry, an intense rummaging of random blogs.

The forage led her to a blog where she read....Find me here at blogadda.com and here at indiblogger.in.

Mouth wide open, eyes popped out,  fingers typed hurriedly and she registered at both the sites. The first one responded promptly. The second one took longer than a week which made her send a query mail. The reply came with blog approval.

Once registered, she started posting. Within a week, she found lots and lots of .....you-know-what....EARS.

She is happy now.

She wants to thank blogadda.com and indiblogger.in sincerely.

She thanks in earnest the bloggers who have added her to their network. She is grateful to the fellow-writers who have spared the time to hear her. She is thankful to all those who will add her, read her, hear her in future.


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