'google658fd05d77029796.html' The Original Poetry
Posted on Saturday, 23 September 2017






Baazar-e-Ishq is a heart touching hindi/urdu poem penned by Deepak Kripal and recited soulfully by Hina Malik.

This poem takes us to the heartbroken world of a lover who has loved and lost, dealing not only with the betrayal of the lover, but the ridicule of the world as well.


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Posted on Tuesday, 12 September 2017






Bandini, a beautiful hindi poem written and recited by Sudha Kripal takes you inside the mind of a common girl, inspects her trials and tribulations, her wishes and ambitions, concluding it to a poetic end.

Relish the rhyme..!
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Posted on Tuesday, 5 September 2017

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Posted on Thursday, 24 August 2017


अभी रुक जा मेरे क़ातिल
तनिक रुक जा, सबर कर ले
कसक बाकी हैं थोड़ी सी
तू जी भर के क़तल कर ले 

बहुत अब हो चुकी बातें
बड़ी छोटी खुराफातें
बरस जा बेसबब बन के
बसंती रंग दे रातें 

उजालों को धुंआ कर दे
अंधेरों को शमा कर दे
दिखा ऐसी मिसालें तू,
नुमाइश बेपनाह कर दे

मेरे खत की सियाही है
मैं प्यासा तू सुराही है
थमा  हूँ तेरे जानिब यूँ,
मैं ज़र्रा तू तबाही है

गुलाबी खेत देंगे हम
सुनहरी रेत देंगे हम
लगा कीमत मेरे दिल की 
ये धड़कन बेच देंगे हम

किनारों से किनारा कर
समंदर तू नज़ारा कर
नशीली नांव है मेरी 
सुनामी का इशारा कर

तक़ल्लुफ़ आखरी कर दे 
छलकते जाम दो भर दे
भिगा दे मौत को मेरी
तू मुझको बेसबर कर दे 

मैं मुद्दत से मुरादी हूँ
भरोसा रख मैं राज़ी हूँ 
तुझे शायद पता ना हो,
तेरी तरहा शराबी हूँ 





abhi mat ja mere qatil,
tanik ruk ja, sabar kar le
kasak baki hai thodi si,
ke jee bhar ke qatal kar le

bahut ab ho chuki baatein
badi chhoti khurafaatein
baras ja besabab ban ke
basanti rang de raatein

ujaalon ko dhuaan kar de
andheron ko shama kar de
dikha aisi misaalein tu,
numaaish bepanah kar de

mere khat ki siyaahi hai
main pyasa tu suraahi hai
thama hu tere jaanib yun,
main zarraa tu tabaahi hai

gulaabi khet denge hum
sunehri ret denge hum
laga keemat mere dil ki
ye dhadkan bech denge hum

kinaaron se kinara kar
samandar tu nazaara kar
nasheeli naaw hai meri
sunaami ka ishara kar

takalluf aakhri kar de
chhalkte jaam do bhar de
bhiga de maut ko meri
tu mujhko besabar kar de

main muddat se muraadi hu
bharosa rakh, main raazi hu
tujhe shayad pata naa ho,
teri tarhaa sharaabi hu

A poem by Deepak Kripal




And in her eyes I see something more beautiful than the stars.
         - Beth Revis (Across the Universe)
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Posted on Sunday, 16 July 2017

        It was one of those usual mornings for me, a cup of tea and news shuffling on TV. One said about Dadri Masjid case, the demolition of Babri mosque in Ayodhya, Uttar Pradesh. I would rather call it demolition of humanity that caused the death of at least 2000 people, and what for, in the name of religion. These things are beyond my understanding. Religions are to serve humanity, but sadly humanity is getting away serving religions or some hidden political motive, I dare say! 

Any way, my day started with a provoking thought. Being in a government job and posted in a remote hill area, I didn’t have many options for entertainment or any company to hang out with. I lead a monotonous routine every day. Though I loved the company of interesting people, like one of my subordinate staff in the office. He was about to retire in two years. He would tell me stories about places he worked before, people he worked with, and many other things. He looked much older for his age.  He would say atrocities of life that he had faced all through which made him looked older. He was short, stoop, fair complexioned with a peculiar expression on his face all the time, which I figured out, was a blend of curiousness, chronic sadness, absolute emptiness and begging to come out mischievousness sometimes. Adding more to his much older look was his attire, loose straight trousers, khakhi shirt, Nehru jacket, aam aadmi cap, big round glasses and a laathi in hand, that he used as a support while walking. 

So, like every day, we were having some random conversation. He would call me Saabji. I was addressed this way or Sir sometimes in hills. I assumed people would have seen only male officers before. Suddenly he mentioned what’s been in the news, Babri masjid kaand, with an utter innocence; considering I am his senior he asked, “Saabji, jo hinduon ne kiya masjid gira ke kya sahi kiya?” I was intrigued by his question, as he was a hindu himself. I expected him to have different opinion like others of his like. He was waiting for my answer. It took me some time to recollect my thoughts on that and I replied, no, it was wrong. They shouldn’t have done that. He agreed saying, “galat kiya saab bahut galat kiya, agar maszid nahi todte toh waha kya banna chahiye ye mamla hi khatam ho jata. kya fark padta hai masjid bane ya mandir”. How simply he rooted the problem out. I told him people involved in such deeds do not belong to any religion. Such incidents are always politically driven. He nodded with the same peculiar expression which probably suggested his ignorance related to politic nuances, not a bad thing I wondered! 

There is one thing common among common people, they believe in what they are made to see.  But he was different!       


                       Someday you get to learn something extremely beautiful having a conversation with probably not the best of mind but a pure heart. That day I returned home with a firm belief on humanity. That hatred has still not completely taken over our minds.    

                       A memoir by Sudha Kripal
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Posted on Saturday, 15 July 2017




Two kind of mindsets:

Problems in your head are 
closer than they appear.

problems in your head 
appear closer than they are.

- Sudha Kripal
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Posted on Wednesday, 12 July 2017


raees ki mehfil mein fir se kal eemaan bika,
suna fir kisi gareeb ke ghar ka deewan bika
kal fir se soya chhat pe nangi peeth wo,
kal fir se usko khwaab mein bhagwaan dikha..!
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Posted on Sunday, 18 June 2017


office to home
living same life everyday
made me realize your importance
dear phone!

when in deep melancholy
from an utterly boring monotony’
i cried out for help
i found no one but you
two world i twirled into
real was too real to handle
i switched to virtual
i found friends there
in hundreds now i have
they confided with me every detail
oh believe me
i could tell who is eating what
facebook it called!!

you are a magic box
i can’t take my eyes off you
until they burn bad
you are like drug addiction
i feel helpless without you

and before i could understand
i welcomed myself into a world of loners
they were all like me
staring at you every single minute
the insta people
the twitterati
craving for more hits on like
more people to connect
hoping that would change the world
my belief on disbelieving real actions
grew stronger
my mind stuck to what went viral

and now
i can’t differentiate between real and virtual
 i am hallucinating
you are eating my mind
controlling my life
wish i could dump you
but you know all my secrets
you play programmed art well
modern world’s smart hell!

A poem by Sudha Kripal
Blog - Sudha Kripal Photography



''The difference between technology and slavery is that slaves are fully aware that they are not free.''
                 - Nassim Nicholas Taleb
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