Hi friends, announcing my latest book of poetry in Hindi-Urdu “Tu Hi Piya”, published an Amazon Kindle Books on 29 November 2020!
![TU HI PIYA: तू ही पिया (Hindi Edition) by [Sandeep Silas]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/41CN+AnFFZL.jpg)
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वक़्त का तुम… Waqt Ka Tum… by संदीप साइलस “दीप”
वक़्त का तुम…
संदीप साइलस “दीप”
वक़्त का तुम दम भरते हो, वक़्त किसका है
इंतिज़ार करते रहते हो, की ख़त किसका है।
मौसम-ए-बहार की रोज़ तुम राह तकते हो
दरख़्तों से बातें करते हो, परिंदा किसका है।
मन में लिए इख़्लास, क्या-क्या सम्भाले हो
तन्हाइयों में डूबे रहते हो, आसरा किसका है
ये कशिश क्या कभी ले आएगी तुम्हारा प्यार
तारों को गिनते रहते हो, आसमाँ किसका है।
उनकी रूह को ताज़ा, रुख़्सार हँसी रखते हो
असास हैं मज़बूत, उन्हें एहसास किसका है।
यूँ बात-बात आब-ए-दीदा होते हो, बेज़ार हो
कौन पोंछेगा बहते अश्क़, रूमाल किसका है।
आँखों में दास्ताँ, शरीर, हरारत लिए फिरते हो
मोहब्बत भरे लब हैं ख़ामोश, जिगर किसका है।
ख़ंजर-ए-इश्क़, लमहा-बा-लमहा धार रखते हो
खुद ही तो लहू-लुहान रहते हो, दिल किसका है।
चलो बयाबान में चलो “दीप”, वतन किसका है
तेरा हुआ तो आएगा, वरना ख़याल किसका है।
(Written: Delhi; 10 April 2020)
दिल निकाल के… संदीप साइलस “दीप” Dil Nikaal Ke… Sandeep Silas
दिल निकाल के…
संदीप साइलस “दीप”
दिल निकाल के रखता हूँ रोज़ तेरे सामने
मेहर की उम्मीद करता हूँ तुझसे तेरे सामने।
कभी वेद पढ़ता हूँ, तो कभी अज़ान गाता हूँ
कभी कबीर, कभी नानक होते हैं मेरे सामने।
नव-दुर्गा का अदब रखना है मुझे ता ज़िंदगी
इंजील-ए-ईसा को भी लाना है तेरे सामने।
ए इंसाँ तू क्यूँ छोड़ता जा रहा अपनी ज़मीं
तेरी पाकीज़गी को मुझे लाना है तेरे सामने।
ये सियासतें, गर्दिश में ले जा रहीं हैं तुझे हिंद
हज़ारों साल की तहज़ीब, देख है तेरे सामने।
ना सुन बुरा, ना कह बुरा, ना देख तू कुछ बुरा
बापू को भूलने से पहले, ज़रा रख उसे सामने।
नफ़रतें ना लाएँगी, अमन-ओ-चैन की दुनिया
हिट्लर भी गया था, अपनी ही गोली के सामने।
ना झूठ बोल, ना कर फ़रेब, तुझे मिली सल्तनत
कुदरत से ना खेल इंसाँ, पुतला है उसके सामने।
नहीं मानेगा तू, तो वो वापस ले लेगा तेरी साँस
कहते हैं वो मन का “दीप” देखता है अपने सामने।
रब्ब को कहा होता… संदीप साइलस “दीप”
रब्ब को कहा होता…
संदीप साइलस “दीप”
दर्द-ए-दिल को ए इंसां, तूने रब्ब को कहा होता
जिसका अक्स तू जमीं पे है, उसको कहा होता।
शिकस्ताह हाल फिरता है, एतबार किया होता
जिसने तुझे बनाया, उस रब्ब को पुकारा होता।
दस्त-ए-साक़ी ना लाए, वो जाम पिया होता
चाक-जिगर को अपने, ईमान से सिया होता ।
अह्ल-ए-किताब का कलाम, जो तूने सुना होता
रूह का परिंदा तेरा, रब्ब का नाम जिया होता।
चारागर का हक़ तूने, जो ख़ुदा को दिया होता
दुआ ने हर मर्ज़ में, दवा का काम किया होता।
कारवाँ-ए-हयात पे इतना फ़ख़्र ना किया होता
कभी तो रब्ब का भी, तूने एहतिराम किया होता।
इब्तिदा तो कर ली, तू इंतिहा को जिया होता
ख़ुदा की मोहब्बत का भी पैग़ाम लिया होता।
हद पे तू पहुँचता रहा, इख़्लास भी किया होता
जाने-अनजाने कभी वादा-ए-वफ़ा किया होता।
सामने गर तू होता, मैं तुझ को ही जिया होता
तू इश्क़ मेरा होता, मैं “दीप” तेरा ही होता।
The Creative Mind by Sandeep Silas
THE CREATIVE MIND
I am the creative mind, the Creator’s gift
Do I ever know who I am going to chose
And what I am going to make him write, propound, discover, or invent
Does it unfold on its own
Is it a gift from the heavens?
Or do I dig it from the womb of the earth
Sometimes it falls like the rain
Soaking me through and through
At times it is a boat, taking me on a sail to phantom lands
Some ways are those of a tempest, ripping everything off
Yet maintaining a calm in the eye of the storm
Many times in history it was a cloudburst and all the accumulated burden fell at once upon the paper
I have been doing it in the past
I am at it in the present
I will be in the future
I don’t know whether what I think and ink shall power revolutions or bring peace, or advance scientific discovery
I don’t care whether they will hate me or love me for it
Who writes for awards?
You do it because you have to do it, like you are born with a pen in the mouth
Ha, I miss the silver spoon though
In the gospel it is written, “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” !
This is the Alpha and the Omega
The creative mind is the mind blessed by God
Power does not flow from the barrel of a gun
It flows from the subtlety of the Word
I became Hobbes, when I told you about the “war of every man against every man”, and asked you to naturally seek peace
I lived in Locke, and wrote the theory of the mind, defined tabula rasa, gave you the concepts of identity and self
I was in the head of Rousseau, when I wrote “Men are born free, yet everywhere are in chains “, gave you the Social Contract, say democracy
I was with Voltaire when I defended freedom of religious and political thought, and handed to you the power of Reason
I was with Newton when I revealed the Laws of Motion
I permeated Pasteur, and advanced the medical sciences
Galileo saw through me the understanding of the World
I became Einstein and defined the theory of relativity
I made Curie discover radiation, Otto Hahn discover nuclear fission
I’ve led you like Aristotle, Faraday and Fleming of the penicillin
I’ve been with you always
Michelangelo celebrated me as he chiseled the Pietà and painted the Sistine Chapel
Mona Lisa smiles because I gave the mystique look to her eyes through Leonardo da Vinci
Van Gogh brought The Starry Night to life and the Sunflowers to bloom as he was captivated by me
Rembrandt created The Night Watch, as I conceptualized
Shakuntala and Hansa Damyanti became immortalized as I held the brush of Raja Ravi Verma
I have given my best to more like Picasso, Monet, Amrita Sher-gil and Husain
Many more have excelled because they nourished me
When I became joyous, I gave Mozart, the ‘Night Music’ symphonies
I rejoiced as a child when Schumann wrote Caranaval music, ‘Scenes from Childhood’
Chopin, made me his angel and got the Sonatas
Haydn, looked up to me and found his ‘Surprise’ and ‘God of Life’
Even when Beethoven became deaf, I blessed him with ‘Allegretto’
It was not the choice of Columbus to discover America
Nor of Vasco da Gama to discover India
Alexander did not come of his own to meet his greatness
Neither did Ashoka renounce war of his own volition
I, the creative mind, was all the time living in their minds
I was with Martin Luther King Jr. and gave him the speech of the Dream
I powered Gandhi’s resolve to make India independent of the colonial yoke
I have triumphed in the writings of the Sufi saints
I was within Bulleh Shah, when he coined “Bulleya ki jaana main kaun” (Bulleya, to me, I am not known)
I lived with Rumi, as he said, “I am like heaven, like the moon, like a candle by your glow; I am all reason, all love, all soul, by your soul”
I celebrated Kahlil Gibran
I powered Montaigne’s works’
I rejoiced in William Shakespeare, Tennyson, Yeats, Byron, Bacon, Wordsworth, Milton, Keats, Browning and Chaucer
Where all I’ve been all through the evolution of the world, the thought, the philosophy and the Word
Where all I will be is my choice and not yours
I will fill the ones who deserve me
Yet, a little bit of me will be given to each one of you
It will be your purity of emotion, passion, and soul to attain me fully
I AM…
(Copyright: Sandeep Silas)
WHAT TO EXPECT AND ASK ? BY SANDEEP SILAS
WHAT TO EXPECT AND ASK ?
SANDEEP SILAS
Don’t make me so big that I think I own Your Earth
Don’t give me so much that I think I can command the oceans
Don’t place me so high that I forget I am human
Don’t make me so powerful that I am distanced from hungering humanity
Don’t give me all what I ask, lest I forget the struggle and the value of achievement
Let me live with the mountain and the sea in perfect harmony
Let me watch in amusement the flight of birds
Let me eyes think my body is moving with the flying clouds
Let me touch the trees and the green leaves
Let me smell the beautiful flowers, fragrance pervading my soul
Let me feel the warmth of another human hand
Let me not shy away from extending a helping hand
Let me seek shelter in times of trial in You
Let me pray for easing the suffering of others
Let me be a part of You
Make me an instrument of Your will
Your wish to become my path
Your design to become the plan of my life
Your command to be my endeavour
Your presence to be my feeling
Your proximity to be my pride
Your grace to fill my soul
Your holiness to become my divinity
All this I ask and no more
If you think this is the way
May your lips too utter this prayer
(Copyright: Sandeep Silas)
The Light Within by Sandeep Silas
THE LIGHT WITHIN
SANDEEP SILAS
I am where the hydrangeas grow
And the rain showers the hills
The whistling thrush sings on my window
A song of love and peace
No matter the lightening, no worry the thunder
There is a time for everyone which shall come on its own
I’ve stopped searching the sky for whispers
I’ve forgotten the feeling of lying on grass
I don’t walk on dew anymore
I am content with the rain that the heavens pour
No more I look for oceans in her eyes
Nor do I wonder what Nostradamus says
The trifling nature of humans is nothing before the might of Time
It was all written in your stars when you were sent to earth
The pleasure and pain
The walks, the falls and the rise again
How people shall pinch your feathers away
When they are envious of your flights
How Brutus will stab his Caesar again
How Shylock will demand his pound of flesh
You are no more in your mother’s womb, my child
You better brave the new world order
The tempests, the stones and the mocks
They come again and again
To spite you and to harm you
They are not imaginary fears
They are the plots of the imperfect
Who have not felt the presence of God
And are afraid not of His mighty sword
Many like Alexander have come and gone
Their ambitions carried away in drops of poison, of their own making
Only the Kookaburra, and the Whistling Thrush remain
To narrate the story of yesteryears
Still they carry on with puffed chests
The airbags, those a mere pin can deflate
I’ve given up chasing butterflies, those hover on blossoms briefly
They will go on living on flowers, sipping sweet nectar
Carrying the pollen unwittingly
To other pastures and foreign lands
I have become the undying witness to the passing time
I know every Achilles has a soft heel
No one lives beyond his time
All pebbles of the river bed, disintegrate slowly
Till they become just sands of Time
I look to the light that lives within
Call it by any name, it is the same
It is the candle of the good deed
It is the fire of the funeral pyre
Choose your light with wisdom and care
You are the Light that lives within
(Written: Shimla: June 9, 2018; 6.05 am to 8.22 am)
A Bed and a Plough by Sandeep Silas
A Bed and a Plough by Sandeep Silas in “Borough in the Mist”
Rann of Kutch… ocean of salt or salt of the earth? by Sandeep Silas
The Bible in the Gospel of Mathew 5:13 reveals a meaningful phrase:
- “You are the salt of the earth, but if the salt has lost its
- flavor, with what will it be salted? It is then good for nothing,
- but to be cast out and trodden under the feet of men.”
When I cast my eyes the first time on the Rann of Kutch I felt this come to me very powerfully. We had come to the White Rann by evening, my brother and I. We had first travelled from the Tent City by bus, then by camel cart to enter this territory that was for many years a salt wasteland without a human visitor.
Modern day travails and stressed out lives in the cities have led men to discover and reach such places to feel the grandeur of Nature and be engulfed with an awesome feeling. There is something beautiful and wondersome in Nature; it kind of overpowers the senses and tells you that all the efforts and boasts of Man are just empty whispers of the impermanent!
The Tent City is set up every year for six months when the weather is good and the salt is walkable, the slush having dried and the whiteness the best. The tents are comfortable and more than that give a feeling of adventure, a difference, which we all look for from daily routine.
The Sun was about to set and that gave us a spring in gait to walk as far ahead as possible from where there is no interference between the Sun’s glory and its colours as it dies another day, and the bewitched eyes.
The voices of onlookers created a noise that was incomprehensible to the ears. I was reminded of a play, in which we actors were to stand on stage and act as if engaging in avid conversation, while all we were to say was “gabble, gabble, gabble…” The Party in theatrics is nothing but gabble, gabble or bla, bla…
The majesty of the Sun was unparalleled. The more it went towards its imminent demise for the day, the more it glowed! Bright orange, blood red, mango yellow, and then a blob of red disappearing slowly but surely.
Its path for the day had been traversed, its duty done, it seemd to have set in our portion of the hemisphere but in fact it was rising in another. What a beautiful lesson in duty it is, to keep on shining with glory be it this part of the world or another. It also reveals that no Sun can forever shine in one part of the earth, it has to travel to another!
The White Rann, a huge expanse of raw salt, a pure offering of the retreated Arabian Sea conveys a strange indescribable feeling of awe and surrender, lying quiet in its immensity, clothed in silence, and soaked in Nature.
William Wordsworth’s “It Is A Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free…” came to my mind:
“It is a beauteous evening, calm and free,
The holy time is quiet as a Nun
Breathless with adoration; the broad sun
Is sinking down in its tranquility;
The gentleness of heaven broods o’er the Sea;
Listen! the mighty Being is awake,
And doth with his eternal motion make
A sound like thunder—everlastingly.”
The Sunset gave way to twilight; the much celebrated time of the parting day when birds return to their nests, cattle hordes run back, the priests rise to retreat within their temples and offer prayers, kitchen fires light up homes and smoke billows out of chimneys.
The sunstruck visitors too retreated and a hush fell upon conversations and hearts. Some kind of a fulfilment that one experiences after a tete-e-tete with Nature.
The Tent City revealed under the lights what it had hid as ordinary during the day. Here were some puppets, there was a rickshaw, a boat, a lighthouse, and a guard tower. Huge spaces served as welcome lounge, dining halls, recreation centres, playgrounds, VIP Meeting Place, and medical assistance. In the midst of many circular fields around which the living tents were erected, there were sitting areas so designed as to give a complete view of the 36 or so tented enclosure. I was reminded of the medieval ages when armies used to march on foot, camp in tents as they advanced and conquered more territory.
Food was local Gujarati style and you could have as much as you want.
A cultural programme followed after the tent city dwellers returned from watching the Sunset. A local band played songs, people danced Garba (Gujarati traditional dance) and some went to the eye of a telescope for stargazing.
The Tent City also dishes out small adventures like para-motoring and rope gliding. The record has been safe so far.
Sleep under a tent was fast though initially the ears kept on hearing conversations in adjoining tents as there were no concrete walls but cloth curtain wall those separated one tent from the other.
Morning tea came in a flask at 6 a.m. and in 10 minutes everyone was expected to be on the bus for the sunrise. This time the bus took us to a different area. Here the State Government has built a huge steel Viewing Tower, which can accomodate more than a hundred people at one time. We decided to walk far ahead so that none stood between us the rising Sun.
The rising of the Sun was as charming as its setting. The two events in metaphor and in real life were absolutely different, but the player was the same. The soft glow, called in Hindi, ‘Laali’, gave way to more defining moments those could be captured in the eye of the camera. Kabir’s couplet came to mind:
कबीर का दोहा
“लाली मेरे लाल की, जित देखूँ तित लाल |
लाली देखन मैं गई, मैं भी हो गई लाल ||”
The softly rising Sun, changing colour from orange, to yellow to red to white, coloured the sky amazingly in its ascent.
The plain white ocean of salt before it absorbed its colour and stride kept on changing from orange hue to a golden one!
The salt of the Earth, though trampled under our feet, had not yet lost its flavour nor its purpose!
There is still hope in humanity!
(Text and Photographs by Sandeep Silas)
Seog.., the human story of the Jungle by Sandeep Silas
They say a jungle teaches you life. There is order in the jungle; there is beauty in the jungle; there is danger in the jungle; there is an originality in the jungle. No animal eats the other without any reason unlike in the human world!
Seog, is a dense forest 30 minutes from Shimla just after Dhalli. A gate beckons you inside. I missed out seeing the statue of the panther and deer on the gate and only saw the birds on the board. There was an option to cycle but the guard coaxed me to trek if I really wanted to enjoy the forests. It was 7.5 km one way, so a 15 km round trek.
Off I went, camera dangling on my chest trying to hear the birds and then strain my eyes to spot them. It was 10 am and already late as the early birds had already caught the worm and went into hiding. Still, I could see a Whistling Thrush and some others.
An insect clinging to a creeper entwining a deodar tree caught my eye as strange but unique!
Two km inside I heard the Barking Deer and looked up the mountain to see a herd passing through the forests during the day’s activity. Just then some one called and insisted I talk. The deer herd had vanished by then. So I put it on silent mode not to miss out on the sheer experience and pin drop silence of the forests, occasionally broken by bird calls. Often I found fresh droppings of the deer, tell-tale signs of it having traversed that way, but no luck anymore. So I enjoyed the overwhelming effect created by the Deodars (Cedrus Deodara) and Moru Oak (Quercus Dilatata) trees. They become home to monkeys, langurs, birds, insects, butterflies and give shade that the sun too cannot pierce. There was not a soul on the trek and I felt like the King of the Jungle.
Once I imagined that our Mogli boy would emerge out of the shadows and show me some of his territory. The boards said that the forests were home to: Black-lored Tit, Rufous Breasted Accentor, Grey Treepie, Rufous Treepie, Jungle Owlet, Red Billed Blue Magpie, Grey Headed Woodpecker, Alexandrine Parakeet, Plumbeous water Redstart, Chestnut tailed Milna, Rufous Sibia, Grey winged Black Bird, Orange flanked Bush Robin, Asian Koel, Black Bulbul, Variegated Laughingthrush, Black Francolin, Blue-capped Redstart, Long Tailed Thrush, Rufous-bellied Niltava, Chestnut Thrush, Yellow Brested Green Finch, Eurasian Treecreeper, Pink browed Rose Finch, Green backed Tit, Slaty headed Parakeet, Green Pigeon, Yellow Bellied Fantail, Common Hoopoe, Black-throated Tit, Great Himalayan Barbet, Whiskered Yuhina, Scaly-breated Munia, Common Tailor Bird, Common Rose Finch, Blue-throated Barbet, Oriental White-eye, Speckled Piculet, Rusty cheeked Scimitar Babbler, Black headed Jay, Plum headed Parakeet and so on. The list is endless.It goes further into the types of Butterflies, Orchids, Shrubs and Flowering Trees.
However, there is a season for everything. So when there are Orchids the trees won’t flower, similarly when the weather is cold the birds and animals prefer to hide and bask in their piece of sunshine.
I walked discovering whatever I could till I came to the end of the trek, where stood a water tank and three huts.
A small temple stood at one side of the huts.
Above this settlement was a Forest Rest House, where no one is allowed during the nights.
Here grew in abundance the yellow Spanish Broom flower (Spartium Junceum). It was a beautiful sight especially when contrasted with the azure blue sky. The best discovery of this trek was this flower called with a Spanish name albeit having the fragrance of a French perfume!
There is a Water Catchment Tank built during the British times at the far end of Seog Trek. It captures mountain spring water and supplies to the city. The pipes are so sturdy that they have not yet been changed!
I saw a village lady whom I wished. She asked me whether I would like to have tea. I said a polite ‘no, thank you’. She again asked me for coffee thinking my taste could be different and supplemented that she makes good coffee. I again said a ‘no thanks’.
Then she offered me Chaaj (Skimmed Milk) to which I said a resounding yes. Neelam, (her name), happily brought fresh Chaaj. I have never had such good chaaj. It was perfect. Then she asked me for lunch. It definitely was lunch time and there was no possibility of finding food in the jungle. I said yes but on a condition that she takes payment for the meal. She hesitated and said that she does not sell food. I did not mean to insult her hospitality but, knew they were very poor folks. She brought me some dal, kadhi and rice, and I must write that it was the best kadhi-chawal I had ever had. Perhaps, the generosity of the poor adds to the taste of food they serve from their kitchen.
In a while her daughter came. I asked her what the daughter was pursuing. Neelam said, that the daughter is a Graduate, and has done some computer courses, takes examinations but doesn’t get placed in a job.
Kalpana, the daughter, and I, spoke. She was full of enthusiasm and was willing to serve anywhere in the country. The girl demonstrated confidence. Of course, having been brought up in a forest where only 4 people (3 of family) lived, she suffered from communication skills in comparison to the city-bred.
I really felt the worthlessness of our University education, which does confer degrees but cannot lead to a job situation. Sloganeering for election purposes is acceptable but, unless education leads to a dignified lifestyle, it is actually not serving its purpose. The issue deserves deep thought at the highest level. What would Kalpana do in a situation she does not get a job. Live off her parents, already old and sick? Live in the jungle grazing cows? Fall into a trap? Go to a city like her brother and engage for a job much below her expectations? Or at best find a job, for which she has no aptitude?
The girl was taking competitive examinations regularly, but what kind of guidance can she get in a situation like this where the forest is the only teacher and master.
There are thousands of such stories abounding in the country. There are many Kalpana’s in remote corners of India, who are fighting out with destiny and struggling to assert their existence.
Unless the country is able to provide, look after and fulfill their aspirations, can we call ourselves free?
Neelam, told me that the forest is peopled by six types of panthers, those she has seen. They once also had a leopard eyeing their cat, who sat for a long time before their hut.
I was only expecting birds and deer at the most. My return thereafter was a very careful walk. Each gust of wind that rustled some dry leaves made me look around for a leaping panther. I saw some bamboo made shelters constructed for sighting birds and deer.
Luckily, I came out unscathed by any animal attack, but scarred by Kalpana’s story!