आराम करो

आराम ज़िन्दगी की कुंजी, इससे न तपेदिक होती है।
आराम सुधा की एक बूंद, तन का दुबलापन खोती है।
आराम शब्द में 'राम' छिपा जो भव-बंधन को खोता है।
आराम शब्द का ज्ञाता तो विरला ही योगी होता है।
इसलिए तुम्हें समझाता हूँ, मेरे अनुभव से काम करो।
ये जीवन, यौवन क्षणभंगुर, आराम करो, आराम करो।

यदि करना ही कुछ पड़ जाए तो अधिक न तुम उत्पात करो।
अपने घर में बैठे-बैठे बस लंबी-लंबी बात करो।
करने-धरने में क्या रक्खा जो रक्खा बात बनाने में।
जो ओठ हिलाने में रस है, वह कभी न हाथ हिलाने में।
तुम मुझसे पूछो बतलाऊँ -- है मज़ा मूर्ख कहलाने में।
जीवन-जागृति में क्या रक्खा जो रक्खा है सो जाने में।

मैं यही सोचकर पास अक्ल के, कम ही जाया करता हूँ।
जो बुद्धिमान जन होते हैं, उनसे कतराया करता हूँ।
दीए जलने के पहले ही घर में आ जाया करता हूँ।
जो मिलता है, खा लेता हूँ, चुपके सो जाया करता हूँ।
मेरी गीता में लिखा हुआ -- सच्चे योगी जो होते हैं,
वे कम-से-कम बारह घंटे तो बेफ़िक्री से सोते हैं।

HAPPY BUDDAY

Yes. I was born today, only some years back. So what. So were about other 0.33 billion people, if statistical pattern can be relied upon. I wonder if 'statistical pattern' is really a valid expression. What does it mean? I am not even sure it means anything at all. Anyways, got my ass kicked yesterday night. I haven't been able to sit on my arse yet. I don't really get this tradition also. What evil pigheaded motherfucking bastard must have started this extremely violent non-sense way of celebrating one's birthday. Torturing people is just no way of celebrating anything. Two of the cloud of people calling themselves my friends, who were kicking my butt yesterday have bandages on their feet. The phrase 'kicking my butt' is even very strangely queer. I mean they kicked my butt, literally, but still I get that weird sinking thing in my stomach while putting it that way. Anyways, I decided last night I would not do any class today. It is my 'happy' birthday after all. Turns out I couldn't even if I wanted to. You know, because my ass hurt. So I slept till late. But what is the point of writing all this. You dont want to read my daily diary, except when I am Amitabh Bachhan. People would pay to read his diary, I suppose. But the point is, why do they hit people? On their birthdays. I looked it up. I got a very unsatifying explaination(that is, after 2 hours of 'googling'). You know how the doctor slaps your butt the moment you are born, to make you cry, because you supposedly die if you don't cry. It's ridiculous, it's like god is a dog after all. Playing games right from the beginning. He made it sure the first thing we do after being projectiled out of a birth canal is cry. And the everlasting train of cries and sulks follow. Anyways, turns out the custom is a reminder of the initial slap. Still I am telling you, the explaination is not worth the 'pain in the ass'.