Shiva Ka Ant? Poem by Pushp Sirohi

Kehte hain Shiv amar hain…
par maine unhe marte dekha hai।

Na Kailash hila,
na damru baja…
na tandav hua us raat,
sirf ek gehra sannata tha —
jo brahmand ko tod raha tha।

Ganga unki jata se behna bhool gayi thi,
chand unke maathe se phisal kar
andhere mein kho gaya tha…

Aur Neelkanth…
pehli baar zehar nahi,
shoonya pee raha tha।

Us raat,
Shiv ne aankhein band nahi ki…
unhone astitva bandh kar diya।

Na "Om" bacha,
na "Naad"…
sirf ek khali goonj thi —
jo khud se pooch rahi thi,
"agar Shiv nahi… toh main kaun? "

Parvati ne pukara…
par awaaz wapas aa gayi,
jaise prem bhi un tak pahunchne se
darr raha ho।

Nandi chup tha,
trishul zameen mein dhaas gaya tha…
aur kaal bhi ruk kar soch raha tha —
"jise main khatam karta hoon,
aaj woh khud khatam ho raha hai? "

Shiv ka shareer wahan tha…
par Shiv nahi the।

Woh na roshni bane,
na andhera…
woh kuch bhi nahi bane।

Woh sab kuch chhod kar,
"kuch bhi na hone" mein vilin ho gaye।

Aur tab samajh aaya…

Shiv marte nahi।
Shiv har baar marte hain —
jab ahankaar zinda hota hai।

Shiv har baar laut-te hain —
jab koi apne andar ka sab kuch jala deta hai।

Shiv ka ant,
darasal har jeev ka aarambh hai।