Maut ka naam lete hi
sara kamra baraf main jum jata hai -
couch bhi waheeN baitha rehta hai
aur lamp bhi waheeN ruka rehta hai
jaisay kisi galhari ko lagay
k loag us k dekh rahay hain
Maut, maut kehtay raho,
karo baar chalnay lagta hai.
Lagat hai tumhari zindgi
kisi purani film ka hilkata-jhulkata hissa hai.
Maut, maut kehtay raho, ruko nahin
har lehme moonh se kehtay raho
kehtay, kehtay, kuch aur si lagay gi
jaisay koi shopping mall kisi bhaonwray
ki laash ki prakirma kar rahi ho.
Maut ki bhookh behad hai, har cheeze ko kha jaati hai.
zindgi ki bhhokh bhi behad hai, sub murdoN ko nigal let hai.
donoN kabhi khush nahin rehti, dono antusht rehti hain
donoN duniya ko khaati rehti hain.
Zindgi aur maut dono hum ko brabar taakat se jhkaDti hain.
(prantu, chali gayi, chali gayi mehshooka, haey tum kahaN ho) .
- -
Poem With Two Endings
Say ‘death' and the whole room freezes -
even the couches stop moving,
even the lamps.
Like a squirrel suddenly aware it is being looked at.
Say the word continuously,
and things begin to go forward.
Your life takes on
the jerky texture of an old film strip.
Continue saying it,
hold it moment after moment inside the mouth,
it becomes another syllable.
A shopping mall swirls around the corpse of a beetle.
Death is voracious, it swallows all the living.
Life is voracious, it swallows all the dead.
Neither is ever satisfied, neither is ever filled,
each swallows and swallows the world.
The grip of life is as strong as the grip of death.
(but the vanished, the vanished beloved, o where?)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem