Sunday is the day of rest,

So of it make the best!

Rest your weary body and your weary mind,

Be to yourself considerate and kind!

Repair your weary soul,

O! What a worthy goal!

While you laze and potter around the house,

Your worn out spirit rouse,

Rouse it to take up the challenges of week days,

And with aplomb negotiate of workaday the maze!

So let Sunday be the day when you soak in the sun

And let renewed vigour through your veins run

To live to fight the battles of another day,

And strive to come up trumps and gay!

Arun Bhagat

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Sing like the birds sing

And your way to celestial happiness wing!

Pour out your heart like the winged creatures do

And the very core of our being woo!

Sing as if there won’t be another day,

And regale the wayfarers on their way!

Sing to yourself of your happiness, sorrow and pain,

That is how you reach out to your soul and bliss attain!

Why should you worry what others think of your song?

One who sings from the heart can never go wrong!

What matters who your song hears,

Whether she applauds it or at it jeers?

Let your outpourings not be hostage to an audience or their whim,

Sing on till the cup of your feeling is full to the brim!

Sing for your own salvation and liberation

Whether you croon ditties of your joy or tribulation!

Arun Bhagat

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Listening intently to the pitter patter of rain,

There is so much you gain

Because any connect with nature

Elevates you and enhances your stature!

When the heavens open up and drench everything in sight,

Being a part of the purification process is of joy the height!

When the newly washed leaves in their translucent green

Before your eyes prance and themselves preen,

You can’t but at heart join in their dance

If you are not in a very despondent mood by chance!

The newly enriched leaves and the moisture-laden but cleansed air

Both of them together make a heady pair

That is enough to leave you intoxicated and gay

As rains come calling and become of regeneration a ray!

The multi-hued rainbows in the sky

Hold you spellbound and make your imagination fly

As you behold the marvels of creation

And see it as a cosmic playfield for the gods’ recreation!

Arun Bhagat

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What dies inside you while you live becomes a millstone around your neck,

It can the quality of your life really wreck!

Its dead weight can your boat sink,

So do not try to yourself hoodwink!

Nor should you cry over what is dead and gone,

It will not come back to life however much you plead and moan!

Salvage whatever of your conscience is left,

That is what will save you and give your life some meaning and heft!

Do not let insidious worldly temptations corrode your being,

But for that you have to open your inner eye and change your way of seeing!

That you do not barter your soul

Should be your sacred project and purpose whole!

Why not make it your mission to protect what is left of your core

Because there is nothing that can be precious more?

All the wealth in the world can be no match for your core,

The loss of which will leave you just empty and sore!

So with all your might for your essence fight

Because this is one fight that is honourable, just and right!

Arun Bhagat

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मत ढूँढ मरने के बहाने,

सुंदर भविष्य खड़ा है सिराहने,

यूँ बैठा शून्य में न तक,

तुझे भी जीने का है पूरा हक़,

असीमित सम्भावनाएँ हैं खड़ी पंख पसारे,

फिर क्यों ढूँढता है तूँ कमज़ोर सहारे?

उठ खड़ा हो, अपने सपनों को दे गति,

इस्तेमाल कर जो ईश्वर ने दी है मति!

घुप अंधेरे में भी ढूँढ निकाल कोई झरोखा,

अतुल्य है तूँ, कर दिखा कुछ अनोखा!

अर्थहीन सीमाओं में न खुद को बांध,

जो दीवारें तुझे रोकतीं, सबल बन उनको फाँद!

अमूल्य जीवन की निधि को यूँ न गवा,

बुलबुला है यह, कौन जाने कब हो जाए हवा?

स्वर्णिम अक्षरों में जीवन के पन्नों पे कुछ ऐसा लिख जा

कि विरला ही मिले कोई और प्रेरणा स्तोत्र तुझ सा!

ध्रुव तारे सा तूँ हो जा विद्यमान नभ में,

जीवन भँवर में खोए जहाज़ों को रास्ता दिखा तूँ जग में!

अरुण भगत

We know that some day all this is to end,

Still our silly ways we do not mend!

Prisoners to our ego, we so often go wrong,

When our life could have been a lark and a song!

With our monumental follies we mess it up big time

When the short interval between birth and death could just have been sublime!

Our ugliness so often rears its head

Because we do not with awareness the path of life tread!

In our self-created misery do we wallow

When we could have through life flitted like a swallow!

With our self-inflicted wounds we go our agonising weary way

When life could have been sunshine and hay!

This is how our failings hollow us out like a pest

Though nature gave us the potential to go from better to best!

While, thus, we wear our follies on our sleeve and them flaunt,

The irony of what we are and what we could have been does plague us and haunt!

Arun Bhagat

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Our dark desires make us play with fire,

Even then of them we never tire!

They make us do things brutish and weird,

In the darkness of our minds are they reared!

We pander to our darker selves with pleasure,

We feed our carnal longings at leisure!

Insidiously do they spread their tentacles through our mind,

In their mighty coils they tend our soul to bind,

Still of them we do not tire

Because the devil in us loves to play with fire!

Even as to be good we pretend,

Our shadowy creeping yearnings inside tear us and rend!

On this sacred occasion of Lord Krishna’s birthday,

We see of hope a beckoning ray!

O Lord! Help us transcend the dark crevices of our mind

As you play upon your divine flute and mesmerised we walk behind!

Arun Bhagat

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The Poignant Tale of An Unwashed Ragpicker

The ragpicker in her teens asked me the way out of our lane,

Unwashed and vulnerable, her sight was enough to trouble anyone sane!

I asked her to come home with me,

It was to assuage my guilt almost a plea!

She looked at me tentatively and then followed me,

As I gave her something to eat and drink,

I could see that she was desperate and on the brink

Like so many of her fellow beings we in these difficult times see into the morass of poverty sink!

My small gesture had touched her a bit,

I could see her eyes with a glimmer of happiness lit!

As she lingered at our door,

I brought her something more!

I asked her if she still wanted something more,

At this a weak smile she wore

And went her weary and troubled way,

A sight enough to darken any thinking being’s bright day!

Thus goes of young wasted lives the sordid story

As we get on with our ambitious lives and talk of our great country’s glory!

At such glaring contradictions we just should not wink,

They should be for us occasions to introspect and think,

To think of building a world that is better

In which people can live a life of dignity without any fetter!

Isn’t that the only way to revive what inside us, the better off, everyday dies,

Isn’t it where the real glory of our motherland lies?

Arun Bhagat

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Love people for what they are,

And in relationships you will go far!

Accept them as they are,

And nothing can you equation with them mar!

Accept that each one of them is a free agent,

That each of them is unique in life’s spell-binding pageant!

Accept that of life variety is the spice,

That none is as if your pawn in a game of dice!

Why try to cast even your child in your mould,

Why anyone a prisoner to your beliefs hold?

Why should you anyone to become your shadow wish,

Why should you anyone for acting differently diss?

Why wish anyone to be your puppet on a string,

Why anyone’s thinking differently like a wasp you sting?

Let others climb their own mountains,

And see of love everywhere spring the fountains!

Allow them to reach for their own stars,

And put an end to all inner and outer squabbles and wars!

Learn to embrace people as they are,

And no note in the symphony of life will jar!

Let them grow their own way, let them be,

Allow yourself a life of freedom and let them also be free!

Shorn of all expectations, there will be freedom in the air,

And that will be so liberating and so very fair!

Arun Bhagat

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The stupid of themselves are so sure,

They think that none more than them is pure!

They live with their certainties false,

To all the wrong tunes they so gleefully dance!

They frolick in the garden of their folly,

They are so terribly smug, by golly!

They live in their world of make believe,

And so they themselves deceive!

The intelligent, on the contrary, are assailed by self-doubt,

That is why they often have to face uncalled for rout!

Their thinking becomes their soft spot,

They can not just blindly accept the prevailing rot!

Arbitrary binaries they can not ingest,

False certitudes they just can not digest!

On the stage of life where cocksure fools all around strut,

The wise stand aloof as they can not be a part of the rut!

Arun Bhagat

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