Why must I vote for Change? Agree or not, but ten years is a very long time for any political party to hold the country’s leash at a stretch. And when we are a ‘mother of democracy’ as we boast, urgency of change becomes akin to a therapeutic beam of light to shine on the murky corridors of power… or a good broom to sweep away the accumulated muck and stink from the Augean stables. For, power is a vicious fiend, a hydra-headed monster. If not reined in in time, its ever-growing, menacing tentacles begin not only to sting and bite but also undermine the very pillars on which a supposedly benevolent and people-friendly – but inherently shaky edifice of democratic order – stands. We have already seen how power breeds corruption, fosters coteries and insidious nexuses when a political party – any political party – has a long, uninterrupted run. It assumes more serious dimensions when we know that 42 per cent of our sitting lawmakers have serious criminal charges against them. Power’s b
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मेरी कविता को कुछ ना कहना कह लो भला-बुरा मुझे चाहे जितना , पर मेरी कविता को अप्रिय कभी कुछ ना कहना यह तो है स्वप्न-देश में जायी , कोमल , शिशु-सुंदर , चंचल पर भोली , मेरी पूजा का गहना न जाने यह पाप-पुण्य , छल-कपट , सच या झूठ ; लाया हूँ इसे उतार , नभ से सीधा धरती पर हँस के सुंदर-रंगीं ’ पंख पहन , उड़ आवारा बादल सा बन , चाँद-सितारों को बहला फुसला कर दिव्य-लोक में गंगा-जल से नहला , इत्र-सने फूलों का वस्त्र पहना , प्रेम-रस से सींचा है इसे कई दिन उगते सूरज से ली है आशा की उजली किरण , चाँद से मासूम हंसी , और तारों से टिमकता भोलापन दोस्त मेरे , यह क्या जाने नफरत की भाषा ? ना यह जाने कलह , द्वेष व बैर , यह तो है परी-लोक से आई फैलाने प्यार की धूप , हरने जग में पसरा तम , सुनाने नग्में प्यार के , यह है कृष्ण से भी मांग बांसुरी लायी मेरी कविता तो है मेरी सांस , मेरी रूह , मेरे प्राण , मेरे दिल की धड़कन , मेरी रग-रग में बहती , है यह पावन धार पिलाया यह इसे नित सोमरस , पकाया है भट्ठी
The newspaper I read Which newspaper do you read? A silly question to ask perhaps. For, in the glitz and dazzle of TV news anchored by loudmouths, and fakes and deepfakes - generating more heat and smoke than light and insight - newspapers have no place. To cap it, we have Netflixes, Zees and Jios et al pandering to our baser instincts: sizzling hot stuff of guns and gore for the violent beast within us and some mirch-masala of flesh- and skin-baring to keep our wane loins tickling. (I am no holy cow though, I confess!) Then the younger lot have hell-raising games to tingle their neurons with and myriad dating apps for flings or to hunt for soul mates. And of late, to beat them all, an AI-birthed sexy avatar custom made to indulge your wild fancies is a few taps of buttons of your device away to chat or flirt with. Therefore to ask about newspapers or a word in print is stupid and even rude. But being an odd man out in this bewildering chaos - and for sanity’s sake - I read a n