गम्भीरता धीरता कहाँ उसमें ?
बालक-सम बावला होता है वह
तभी...तो...।
स्थित-प्रज्ञ हँसते कहाँ ?
मोह-माया के जाल में
आत्म-विज्ञ फँसते कहाँ ?”
अपनी दाल नहीं गलती लख कर
अपनी चाल नहीं चलती परख कर
हास्य ने अपनी करवट बदल ली।
और
साथी का स्मरण किया, जो
महासत्ता माटी के भीतर, बहुत दूर
रहस-रसातल में उबलता
कराल-काला रौद्र रस
जग जाता है ज्वलनशीलवाला
हृदय-शून्य अद्य-मूल्यवाला,
घटित घटना विदित हुई उसे
चित्त क्षुभित हुआ उसका
पित्त कुपित हुआ उसका
भृकुटियाँ टेढ़ी-सी तन गईं
आँख की पुतलियाँ तो
लाल-लाल तेजाबी बन गईं।
देखते-देखते गुब्बारा-सी
फड़फड़ाती लम्बी
नासा फूलती गई उसकी।
अगर बाती को अगरबाती का
योग नहीं मिलता...तो...
Is seriousness and patience found there in him ?
He looks as crazy as a young boy
That is...why...!
When do they cut jokes who are
equanimous in wisdom ?
When are the spiritualists caught into
The snare of infatuation and illusion?”
Finding itself not being effective
Seeing its move going meaningless,
The humour changed its side.
And
Remembered its companion, which
Very far inside the great existence of Soil,
Boiling into the mysterious inner hell
Is awakened –
The terrifying black ‘Sentiment of Terror'
Which is inflammable, heartless
And with the seal of cruelty,
The chanced event became known to him
His billious humour became fretful
His heart felt enraged,
The eyebrows looked stretched in a bent
The pupils of the eye
Were filled up with acid-redness.
Within a short gaze, the balloon-like -
His fluttering long nose
Went on swelling.
If the incence-stick had not come
Into contact with the wick...then...