मैं शर्म से लहुँ-लुहान हो गया


वो कॉलेज का पहला दिन,
क्या खास बन गया!
वो पहली बार मिली,
और दिल खामोश रह गया.
दो चोटी जुल्फों की,
सीने पे झूल रहीं।
वो पास आके बैठीं,
और मैं शर्म से,
लहुँ-लुहान हो गया.
वो ज्यों-ज्यों संभालती रहीं,
अपना दुप्पट्टा।
मैं कभी पेन्सिल उठता रहा,
कभी पेन गिराता रहा.
उनकी घूरती आँखों में,
एक सवाल बनके रह गया.
फिर नहीं हुआ कभी ये हादसा,
उनकी आँखों में कोई और था बसा.
वो चलती रहीं परिसर में,
थाम के किसी की बाहें।
और वो यादे लिए मैं,
अकेला ही रह गया.

 

परमीत सिंह धुरंधर

Shambhavi:A promise impeccable


A promise impeccable
By me to you
A promise to be by your side true
A promise to be together by life’s
thick and thin,
A promise to love till the life’s brim,
A promise to walk hand in hand,
A promise to be honest in tiniest
strand,
A promise to be there
In your hardest times,
A promise to share your lovliest
rhymes,
A promise from dawning tday till
Tomorrow,
A promise to be here even if you
go,
A promise impeccable from me to
you

Written by the sweetest person in this world for me. Its a memory I will always cherish.

Parmit Singh Dhurandhar

But now I want it deeper


Rolling on the bed,
Dreaming the time we spend,
Together.
It was salty and sweet,
It was short and quick,
But I am unable to recover.
I know it was just for a night,
I know it was just for fun,
But now I want it deeper.
Rolling on the bed,
Dreaming the time we spend,
Together.
The fire is still inside me,
The scars of love is making me,
To dream more.
Rolling on the bed,
Dreaming the time we spend,
Together.

Parmit Singh Dhurandhar

The birthday in November


A long twelve-year,

But, still I remember,

Your curly hair.

Your nose,

Your smile,

And,

Eyes full of tears.

A long twelve-year,

But, still I remember,

Your pain,

Your passion,

And,

Your fear.

A long twelve-year,

But still I remember,

Your touch,

Your breath,

And,

Your desire.

A long twelve-year,

But, still I remember,

A knife in your finger.

Cake,

And,

The birthday in November.

But, unable to understand,

How you forgot everything,

In a night, dear .

Parmit Singh Dhurandhar

The girl with the newspapers


She was on the opposite berth and I was on the side lower berth. I easily got inside the Sharmjeevi Express that runs between Patna and Delhi. It was one of those days when I used to travel a lot due to medical entrance examinations. Even if Kolkata is closer, I used to prefer Delhi. It was because I never enjoyed newspapers that were published in WB at that time. Reading newspapers was my trick to get seat in trains, however, that day I had my reservation. When people used to buy cold drinks and foods, I used to buy all newspapers in the journey. It was that time when I developed interest in politics especially world politics due to this habit.

After some time the train started moving and people occupied their place. I looked in the cabin and realized after some time that she was with her family. I started reading newspapers and it did not bother anyone in the cabin. At the Mughalsarai Junction, I took some other newspapers. Then, the interaction started with her family, as they were curious to know what I did as I was continuous reading newspapers that contained the same news. The whole journey, we just looked each other while I was talking with her parents. In the night after food, she told something to her mother and her mother slept on the lower berth while she was sitting at the window. I realized on that day that girls look beautiful in the night. And then the moment came; she collected all the pages of all newspapers that her family took from me but did not returned. As a 10+2 guy, I was wrong in thinking that she would return that to me.

So, the whole night she was reading newspapers and I was staring at her. I was confused whether she was reading to show her feeling or appreciation for me or as a typical Indian girl she inhibited her desire to know the world before her family. Indian girls like to do things in last if other family member is also interested like eating. It still haunts me when I remember that journey. I don’t know when I slept or she stopped reading. In the morning at Delhi junction, her father awoke me and gave his best wishes for my examination, while she just gave me a smile. I collected my belongings and looked for newspapers. However, I did not see any page in the whole cabin. I had lost them.

Parmit Singh Dhurandhar

बिंदिया


उसका नाम था बिंदिया,
सावलें बदन पे,
रखती थी जो दो चंचल अँखियाँ।
कैसे ना डूबता,
उसके प्यार के सागर में,
एक ही मुस्कान से उदा देती थी,
जो रातों की निंदिया।
अच्छे पल थे,
सुनहरे कल के सपनों में।
मुझे क्या पता था की,
मेरी जल जायेगी दुनिया।
इल्जाम मुझपे ही आये सारे,
कुछ पल मैं भी,
गम और शिकायत में जिया।
मगर, यहाँ से अब न शिकायत है,
न कोई कोसिस।
बस याद आती है,
उनकी वो बेवफाई,
और उनकी मीठी बतिया।

परमीत सिंह धुरंधर