Despite being dual in number, eyes play versatile roles of expression. It is our eyes that unmasks the scripted emotions, and portrays a true picture. Following is poem by
Manas Madrecha, that eulogizes the enigmatic beauty of eyes and seeks to fathom the depths of the eyes...
नयन नहीं बतियाती झूठ
रक्त क्रोध के शोला बरसे, ओझल झलके प्रेम पवित्र।
दया याचे, मुख बांचे 'मानस'; दो आँखे पर भाव सहस्त्र।।
मुख पर चिपका लो मुस्कान, बैठ जाओ 'मानस' या रूठ।
सत्य प्रतिज्ञा ली हैं इसने, नयन नहीं बतियाती झूठ।।
हृदय एक और आँखे दो, और दो जब होती 'मानस' चार।
पड़े ऐसा दृष्टि पर वार, प्रारंभते अँधा प्यार।।
मंद हलचलों से मानस, इतराती नयन भी शरमाती।
विलोकनीय तकती अनिमेष; पल पल पलकें झपकाती।।
कौन सामने, क्या वद्य हैं, भाँप लेती हर इक तेवर।।
पञ्च इन्द्रियों में 'मानस', अनमोल लोचनानि ज़ेवर।।
एहसास चेतना सहती हैं, पर 'मानस' आँखें बहती हैं।
चमक अनल की नैनों में, जिव्हा से ज़्यादा कहती हैं।।
Nayan Nahi Batiyaati Jhooth
Rakt krodh ke sholaa barse, ojhal jhalke prem pavitra;
Daya yaache, mukh baanche 'Manas'; do aankhe par bhaav sahastra...
Mukh par chipkaa lo muskaan, baith jaao 'Manas' ya ruth;
Satya pratigya li hain isne, nayan nahi batiyaati jhooth...
Hriday ek aur aankhe do, aur do jab hoti 'Manas chaar;
Pade aisa drishti par vaar, praarambhte andhaa pyaar...
Mand halchalo se 'Manas', itaraati nayan bhi sharmaati;
Vilokneey takti animesh; pal pal palke jhapkaati...
Kaun saamne, kya vadya hain, bhaanp leti har ik tevar;
Panch indriyo mein 'Manas', anmol lochanaani zevar...
Ehsaas chetna sehti hain, par 'Manas' aankhe behti hain;
Chamak anal ki naino mein, jivhaa se zyaada kehti hain...
© Poem by Manas Madrecha
Eyes Don't Lie
They pour the scarlet flames of anger; they glint the disappearing sacred love; they seek mercy; they read the face - There are two eyes, but thousands of emotions (in them)...
Whether you stick a smile upon the face, or sit sulkily, eyes don't lie, for they have taken the oath of Truth...
There is one heart and two eyes, and when these two eyes become four (that is, when it meets another set of eyes), it strikes such a blow on the vision, that it initiates blind love...
By subtle movements, even a boastful eye blushes. (Sometimes) without closing itself, it keeps gazing what is worthy to be looked upon; while (sometimes) it keeps on blinking the eyelids every other moment...
Who is in the front and what is worthy to be spoken - they are able to gauge every gesture. Among the five senses, eyes are the invaluable ornaments...
It is the consciousness that endures, but it is the eyes that flow. The gleam of water in the eyes, speaks more than the tongue...
© Poem by Manas Madrecha