By: Pranchal Gupta
Picture source: Google Images
The poem below is in Hindi, and speaks to the hollow celebration of a festival at the home of a martyr (‘Shaheed’).
Tyoharon ke rang, apno ke sang,
Khushiyon ka mahol, Jab parivar ho sang.
Maa ka lad, baba ki fatkar,
Bhai se jhagda, bahan ka dular,
Yahi hota he na tyohar mere yaar?
Par puchho jara us maa se,
Jisne beta apna sarhad par bheja hai,
Un chhote chhote patakhon ki awaz se,
Dil jiska dahal jata hai,
Kahi ye un bandukon ki awaz na ho,
Jinse desh ki raksha karne,
Unka beta, sarhad par jakar betha hai.
Puchho jara us baba se,
Jo abhi apne bete ko,
Kandha dekar lota hai,
Vese to fakr bahut hai,
Ki beta sahid hokar lota hai,
Par puchho us baba ke dil se,
Ki Kya ab koi tyohar,
Khushiyon wala hota hai?
Puchho jara us bahna se,
Jisne veer apna khoya hai,
Kya matlab ab rakhi ka,
Jab bhai ka sav,
Goloyion se chhali dekha hai.
Puchh lena us priyatama se bhi,
Jisne sathi apna khoya hai,
Tirange me lipate apne priyatam ko,
Alwida jisne bola hai,
Bina intjar ke ab uske ghar me,
Tyohar kesa hota hai?
Puchho jara un masoom bachho se,
Jinhone walid apna khoya hai,
Saal bhar intjar Diwali ka,
Jinhe sirf isliye hota hai,
Kyoki wahi ek tyohar hai,
Jispar unka pura parivar,
Ek sath hota hai.
Puchho jara un yaron se,
Jinhe intajar tyohar se jyada,
Bichhade yaaron se milne ka hota hai,
Jab yaar hi na rhe,
To Tyohar kesa hota hai?
Nikalo bahar apni duniya se,
Duniya me bahut nazare hain,
Wo sainit bhi kisi ke bete hai,
Jo seema par, apni jaan gawate hain.
Unke ghar bhi Diwali par,
Deep jalaye jate hain,
Par wo deep khushiyon se jyada,
Sahadat ki kahaniyan sunate hain.
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