pandora's laptop

maro is muye aadat ki

2012-01-30T04:04:00.001+05:30

Aise raho vaise raho

Yeh karo wo karo

Sab dhara ka dhara reh jata hai

Kyun last mein baazi aadat mar jata hai

Koi bhi tum kaam karva lo

Sabse tum ppeecha chudva lo

Bus koi ek hai khada wahin par

Janab ko aadat ke naam se jana jaata hai

Bodyclock kehtey hain jisko

Kehna maney sirf aadat ka

Aadat ko tum maska lagva lo

Karvana ho kisi se koi kaam

Kyunki insaan mil jata hai mitti mein

Par aadat reh jata hai

wake up to a world of animals

2011-07-15T02:03:00.002+05:30

http://www.channel4.com/programmes/sri-lankas-killing-fields/4od#3200170

2011-03-10T04:50:00.001+05:30

छोटी सी पेन्सिल पकड़कर पापा ने लिखना सिखाया था
सपनों को रंग भरना और ख्वाबों की स्पेलिंग बताई थी
आज अचानक बाल्कनी में बैठ कर जब मैने काग़ज़ पर लाइने खींची
अजीबोगरीब अक्षर निकले
शायद में लिखना भूल गयी हूँ

मुद्दत हो गये कुछ लिखे हुए क्यूंकी भूल गयी हून लिखना क्या है
लिख लेती थी पहले जब मंन करता था
पर अब सिर्फ़ सड़कें याद आती हैं. धुंधली सी लिखाई नहीं
अल्फ़ाज़ इन्ही रास्तों के धून में कहीं खो से गये हैं

मेरे किताबों की गठरी में पुरानी डायरियाँ निकली
ज़ंग लग गयी है उनमें, शायद आयिलिंग करवानी पड़ेगी
हर लाइन जैसे किसी भटकती हुई याद का मोहताज है
हर पॅरग्रॅफ को उम्मीद है की अब उसे पूरा किया जाएगा

सच शायद में लिखना भूल गयी हूँ
अब पेन्सिल तो क्या ख़यालों की भी मदद नहीं चाहिए
अंजान सी एक रोड पर चलते चलते शायद याद आ जाए
चावल की थाली में उंगलियों से अक्षर लिखवाना
वही पहली बार था जब मैने लिखना शुरू किया था
शायद दोबारा वहीं से शुरूवात करनी पड़ेगी.

retrospect

2011-01-07T12:30:00.000+05:30

i want to write
but what can i say
talk about the days
which were grimly gay
under the stars
standing on the stairs
i wish to utter
but i quiet i lay
touch my hands
and tell me u r real
make me feel
that we are not a dream
if you can't do that
then do me a favour
crush my senses
like a bird who lost her realm
if it was a story
it would have an ending
but it is infinite
endless anodyne
for the unbearable pain
with eyes like a dove
and hold like a paw
it is the pain that is sweet
the grip is so strong
it doesn't let me loose
till something crackles
till you undo the noose
so tell me the question
i will not answer you
in a jaded state of mind
we shall liberate

2010-02-09T12:14:00.000+05:30

Ankhon ke neechey ka kajal gal gaya tha

Rastey par lagey sign board pighal rahe they

Uski likhai ka rang tapak kar chaukidaar ki ankhon ko nam kar raha tha

Kal raat mainey is sheher se guftagoo ki

Par kal raat is sheher ke mijaz kuch alag hi they

Ghultey huye rasstey

Apne aap makkhan ki tarah apas mein mil jatey

Kabhi pedon ke pass to kabhi sadak ke kinarey akaar baith jatey

Daar rahey they kal is sheher keg hum se

Ghol raha tha yeh dheerey dheerey har shakshiyat ko apne andar

kal raat is sheher se mainey giftagoo ki

Par kal raat is sheher ke mijaz kuch alag hi they

Pigalhley huye mombatti ki tarah

Imaratein pighal rahi thi

Qutub minaar ankhon se ojhal tha

Maznoon aur bebaas qiley

apney khidkiyon aur kiwadon ka pata pooch rahey they

kal raat is sheher se mainey giftagoo ki

Par kal raat is sheher ke mijaz kuch alag hi they

2010-01-07T18:10:00.002+05:30

Pariyon ki khanaiyon ka qatl karo
Ghonp do chura un panno par
Jinmein dikhti hai ek duniya
Jahan pyaar hota hai

Tareey nahin todta koi
Wo gareeb hain, meri likhawat ki tarah
Maznoon, mirage ki tarah
Chute hi gayab ho jatey hain

Pariyon ki kahaniyon ka qatl karo
Wahan pyaar tulta nahin hai
Asli zindagi mein pariiyon ko bula lao
Ek sans bhi lena mushkil ho jayega

Main nahin sunanungi kabhi pariyon ki kahani
Meri koi kahani hi nahin hogi
Kyunki mera zikr kahin na hoga
Meri mohabbat kahin nahin hogi

Un nargisi ankhon waley ko kisi ne dekha hai

2010-01-05T15:27:00.002+05:30

Chupke se chitkani ko khola aur
kareeney se bani phank se jhanka
dekha us salvat ko
ankhon ki us salvat ko
mehek rahi thi wo
jaisey sirhaney nargis mehketa hai

khwab sa ankhon mein seepta hua
kabhi is darakht kabhi us darakht
luk chip kar galiyaron se guzar raha tha wo
jaisey nargis ki mehek zehen mein dhadakti hai

pareshan mein jagi, kunchon mein bhagi
sahalaya dil ko, kaha mil jayega
kisi ne poocha koi pehchaan batao?
meiney kaha nargis, nargisi ankehin hai uski
hanskar namurad bola, shayad deewani hai

main laut aayi khali haath
apney kamrey ki table par rakhi uski tasveer ko uthaya
gaur kiya, mehekti hain uski ankhen
jaisey sirhaney nargis meheketa hai

khwab

2009-12-17T12:37:00.000+05:30

Toota sa lagta hai.

Kabhi acha lagta hai kabhi bura lagta hai

Kabhi judta hai kabhi sadta hai

Ankhon ki khamoshiyon se batein karta

Har raat yah meri agosh mein

Kabhi banta hai kabhi bigadta hai

Toota sa lagta hai

Raat ki changul mein lipta hua

Mere saath akeley

Mere neend ki karvaton mein phansta sa

Kabhi ghut ta hai kabhi hansta hai

Toota sa lagta hai

Kamzor si sanson ke saath

Kamzor sa deewanapan

Kabhi chalta hai kabhi thakta hai

Subah ki oss mein

Samne wali ped ki tahani par apne aap ko khota hua

Phir se raat ki taiyaari mein

Door bells ke saath

Kushti ladta hua

Har sa jaata hai

Is subah bhi wo toota sa lagta hai

2009-12-07T17:07:00.002+05:30

2301 UP

When the train left the platform behind, it seemed as if the onlookers were looking at me with anxious eyes. Waiting for me to get down. It’s a weird feeling. As I looked out, we were crossing Asansol. It was dark outside. The station was dimply lit. I felt a sense of belonging. I said to myself; should I get down and may be live here for a couple of days. Strange this happens to me quite often.

turn it into a scar

2009-11-06T13:56:00.001+05:30

Wounds never fuse. They are very much there. In your mind, inside you. Any unpleasant memory. Persists like a scar. Throughout life. They say forget and move on. Sure. I will eventually. But any recurrence of similar memories makes scars reappear. Refresh them beyond imagination. A memory from the distant past. As dirty as could be. An abuse. How often do you get abused? How many times do you face humiliation? Even if you do the way you rate a humiliation is also very important. Measure the intensity of those scars. You will see that they have every right to resurface. Catch up with your present. Pinch you. So you also let them bleed. Do not forget. Nor do you forgive. Reiterate to yourself that they don’t deserve to be forgiven. Let the wounds be alive. As you are left to be.

mainey aaj ladai ki

2009-11-06T12:31:00.000+05:30

Khamoshi gumnaam hai

Pehchaan mein nahin aati

Baton ka gunah hoga

Ki ise gumnaam andheron mein dhakel aatey hain

Is baat par mainey lavzon se jhagda kar liya

Unki asliyaat par sawaal uthaye

Sawaal use ache na lage

Usen kaha , ja aaj se tera bhi saath nahin denge

Ab na mere pass lavz hain

Na baton ka sahara

Tabhi khamoshi ko mainey ek pehchaaan di

Ab wo gumnaam nahin hai

Hum dono hain ek doosrey ki pehchaan

The corridors of Jorasankha

2009-07-13T18:18:00.000+05:30

The corridors of Jorasankha Thakurbari are like any other old mansion. Restoration work still on at some parts of the building, this brick and mortar house stands as a testimony to one of the greatest love stories of the century.

Though known to many for all the wrong reasons, Rabi and Kadam’s love story is no ordinary. Subjected to many frivolous comments about their relationship, many people don’t know that they almost grew up together. It could have been a brother –sister relationship but little did they know that Kadam would create one of the greatest poets of the century and she herself would become his muse.

Sadly we look at love with contempt and disgrace whenever it goes beyond the boundaries of the so-called societal limits. Rabi and Kadam did the same. But little did the world know that this son of god had other plans. He went ahead and created some of the best literary texts that would change the face of the society.

I look at kadam as an extremely vulnerable soul looking for love and attention and falling in for it wherever she found it. A loveless marriage where she couldn’t produce a child lead her towards an unforeseen world finally ending her life soon after rabi got married.

She was his inspiration. His friend. Philosopher. Guide. Everything that he wanted his mother to be. How can the world deny her share in his success? She is the one who made him write. She is the one who made him realise the greatness in him.

Kadam has lot of mysteries linked to her death. Some say she killed herself because she was carrying Rabi’s child. Some say she couldn’t take criticism from her relatives for not bearing any kids. And some say she couldn’t bear the sight of mrinalini devi ( rabindranath’s legally wedded wife). Whatever the reason, kadam still created the greatest poet ever and no one can take away this from her.

As I walk down the pathway, I felt both of them standing next to me. She singing to him and he looking at her, scribbling at his notepad. These corridors have witnessed an epic of romance. Something that got dirtied. Yet pristine in its own way. Whatever the reason, kadam still created the greatest poet ever and no one can take away this from her.

Note: Rabindranath Tagore and Kadambari Devi’s love less known to the world through my eyes.

hisaab

2009-06-09T01:07:00.000+05:30

Ek bacha tha
Apni choti ki copy mein
Kuch note kiya karta tha
Jab bhi baba ke saath bazaar jaata
Vapas aakar kuch note karta
Maa ke sath mandir jaata
To bhi vapas aakar apni copy ki kisi panney par kuch likhta aur ohir chup chaap use apne seeney se lagakar so jaata
School se aata ya khel kar aata apni copy ke panney ko apne baye hath se chupakar hamesha kuch likhta aur phir bhaag jaata
Ek din uski amma ne uski copy chura li
Jab bacche ko copy nahin mili to wo ghabra gaya....roya bilkha par copy to gayab thi..
Kisi tarah wo school gaya.... tab amma ne copy kholi aur usmein likha hua hisaab dekha.
Shaam ko khabar aayi ku munna nadi mein gir gaya aur ab kabhi vapas na avega.
Amma ne copy hawa mein uchaal di
Un panno mein kharchi hui hansi ka hisaab tha.

last lines to you

2009-01-27T16:08:00.001+05:30

The ruthless world of love
Gives you another blow
Tells you, you are selfish
And weak to face the dark

The sadist world of dreams
Makes me paint the walls
It’s blood all over
And water is what you look for

A lizard keeps crawling
Over the window hedges
Where the shutters hit my nose
And curtains lash on my face

Everything around
Looks gothic and brittle
Meaningless with pain
And sunken in black

These are the last lines I write for you
This is the last pain you make me go through.

2009-01-23T13:45:00.001+05:30

the crimson stars of the night enquire me why, that i love you so mucheven when the distances are wide. They ask me questions that i hate to answer, they ask me reasons unknown to me. I think of the feeling that lies with in me and tell them only if i could explain it to thee
There are no reasons for me to give you. There are no regulations that i keep for myself. Only if you knew that there is something surreal in you those infinite eyes that sting me blue for once understand that reasons are not enough. I feel the pain during a fractured dusk. When dawn dons on the morning mist. i miss you beside me like destiny's trist.

mind's the gamer

2009-01-06T14:56:00.000+05:30

How do you reply to someone when you are not asked anything? How do you expect people to know that you care for them when you are not the one they are looking for? How do you allow someone to rule your thought process when you don’t exist in their life? And how on earth are you supposed to read someone’s mind when you don’t know what you are thinking? Too many HOW’s! It often appears that my mind has convoluted stream of thoughts that keep banging against each other, time and again. And then the end product brings about a change in my mind. So I keep changing. From one place to another. One dream to another. One person to another. Fear rules and then I defeat it. I hate to fear. Not that iam not scared of things. I scared of change. So I want to conquer it. In my own way. Because I can’t change. Accommodate, yes. But not change. But why is it so difficult to relate to reality. Someone yesterday told me. I live in my own world. But I guess everyone does. Some accept it. Like me. Some do not. So the fact of the matter is, never swim down the reverie of emotions. Keep your self at bay. It helps that way. Or else be like a bird. Just fly away.

2008-09-10T13:47:00.001+05:30

When life doesn’t tell you where it’s taking you…then you should never look back and wait for it. Walk. Run. Go far away. And do what you always wanted to do. Be your own self. Don’t try and impress anyone. Because then you will forget the intention behind your existence. When people say you are immature. Laugh at it. When they say they love you. Believe it. Take the good things. Forget the bad ones. That has to be the survival strategy. Or else you will realize that this world is out to get you. Live as if there is no tomorrow.

यासमीन की इबादत

2008-09-03T15:22:00.003+05:30

शाहदीद आँखों के झुकने की देरी है
आज रात खुदा के घर रुकने के देरी है
कुद्रत के मजमें में हम भी शामिल हो जाएँगे
बस जन्नत में एक रात छुपने की देरी है

फलक के दरवाज़े पर हम भी खड़े दिखेंगे
कोई और पाकीज़ा मिल जाए तो घम होगा
इस रात के गुज़ार जाने का अफ़सोस नहीं
इस रात में भटक जाने की देरी है
खुदा के अशफ़ाक़ में समा जाएँगे हम भी
खुदा के बंदे में गिने जाने की देरी है

रही जो भी कसर हमसे
उस कसर को अंजाम तक पहुँचना है
आज उनके इबादत का चस्का लगा है
आज अपनी मोहब्बत को आज़माना है
एक राह जो उनकी तरफ रुख़ किए है
उसके नक़्श को ज़हन में बसाना होगा
बस खाक के दरया में डूबने के देरी है
तेरे मज़ार में अपना कुफ्र दफ़नाना होगा

gab......an art....and i love it

2008-09-03T14:43:00.000+05:30

Bullshitting is an art. Not everyone’s cup of tea. It requires some fine talent to master the art of bullshitting. So how do you know that you are good at it? Well simple. Just keep practicing. Because an art isn’t one unless it is practiced well. The other day I met this girl who kept talking about how she knows everything. Well I thought she was impressive. Because she did bullshit a lot. And the bull didn’t mind either. She was quiet appealing. You will keep bumping onto different kind of people. People who are smart. People who are confident. Sometime you get to meet arrogance. And of course the pretentious lot. They pretend that they are cool. And not just bothered. It’s good to be such. But then how do you know that they aren’t bothered. They are actually pretending. Besides its not easy to figure out what the other person is thinking. Unless you are a psychology student. People are funny. Yeah they are! They talk a lot. They wanted to be talked about. And of course be in a company that likes them. Ok. Acceptable. It isn’t a crime to want to be liked. But hey, c’mon it’s not fair to fool someone. Tell the lil fella that you either genuinely like him or just pretending to like him. Let him face the harsh sun of reality and do not cover him with the sun glasses of false appreciation. Anyway, time to get back to reality. Time to dive into the marines of life where complexity and wickedness is an ordeal. No. Serious! And I am one of them. Iam not at all trying to be moralistic. I knew everyone’s wicked. Everyone. And I realize that a being wicked is being true.

sunrise

2008-08-18T18:39:00.001+05:30

I never took writing seriously. As in I did. That’s what I do to earn a living. But I guess I never really thought about it as I should have. Crafting a thought and then writing in a flow. Sounds interesting. So what do I do? Well! It’s never too late and so I shall fix myself up. Be a bit more laborious and put in some hard work to refine myself. May be go back to my books. Read up literature. Take serious notice of things and language around me. Have a sense for art. And many such plans have just sprung up for me. Don’t really know if I will be bale to do it. But then let me try. There is no harm in trying. Will let you know if I get successful.

irony

2008-08-18T15:39:00.001+05:30

He slapped her hard. Blood gushed out from her lips. She wiped it off. Frivolous fights always took place. This time it was serious. She slept out with someone. He figured because there were bites all over her body which he was sure were not made by him. But how could she be so careless. At least she could have been smart enough and not get those so that he wouldn’t know. After all even he was sleeping around with a common friend. But he was smart enough to keep it undercover. She tried getting up but was too hurt. Her head hit the glass table and was bleeding now. He asked her the name. She smiled at him. That made the matters worse. He slapped her again. This time she slapped back. He was shocked. With great difficulty she opened her mouth and said: “She asked me to tell you that from now on, she will only sleep with me because I was better than you”. He was shocked. She limped past him. He sat their holding his head with his hands. She slammed the door.

2008-08-18T14:52:00.000+05:30

I often feel that I never did anything for anyone. I am selfish and I do things that make me happy. Sometimes I don’t care. But sometimes it does pinch me. Deep down inside. Could have been a better person. But then what the heck. This is how iam. There’s guilt of doing things that I shouldn’t have done. And then hey! Why shouldn’t I. Like a fat man marries a young girl who is a bisexual and sleeps around with the sexiest of women. That’s a movie I saw yesterday. And it made me sit and think. One of my friend said that 40 % of human beings are bisexuals. So that means every fourth person I meet in a crowd of hundred is a bi. Woof!!! That’s interesting. Not scary but interesting. So why don’t they talk about it in public. Anyways, I was talking about being happy. It’s difficult because every time you are happy, people will make you feel guilty for being happy. Because everyone loves to glorify sorrow. C’mon guys let me be happy and if iam not then make me happy……ok at least yourself…..

through the eyes of a stranger

2008-08-12T11:28:00.001+05:30

Rishabh was like any other teenager, happy-go-lucky, fun loving, vivacious. Wondering about his future yet not too sure about what he wants to do. Life at Bangalore was fun. He had good friends, good food joints and decent girls to look at. But little did he know that soon he was going to meet someone who would change his life.

Enters Veda, a friend’s sister who was older than Rishabh’s elder brother. She was an assistant producer in Mumbai and had come down to his college to meet her brother. Her meeting with Rishabh was very brief but interesting. Veda went back to Mumbai after a day with Rishabh and her brother but she also kept thinking about Rishabh who was the face of today's generation. Even Rishabh kept thinking about the way Veda spoke her way through.

May be the two will never meet again. May be they will. But little do they know that somewhere deep within themselves, they liked each other. As individuals. As humans. As a younger boy and an older woman. As two entities who were distinct. Today Rishabh works as a design consultant in USA. He may not know but may be he got influenced by Veda.

past the midnight

2008-07-24T11:57:00.001+05:30

I drove past the night.
With wind hissing wild
And insects kissing my cheeks
Through the empty street of the sky
I drove past the night

Raging eyes ready to prey
At the least of instance
And miniscule of a second
They were about to pounce by
I looked away from the eyes
And glanced at the road
It was empty like my mind
As I drove past the night

The dirt found its way
While my eyes fought against
I held on tight
Before the night slipped by
Into the arms of the dark
I flew into the sky
Racing through the emptiness
I drove past the night

blink blink

2008-07-04T15:40:00.001+05:30

A mouthful of sky
Flew inside my window
Blinked at me
And walked around my room
Draped my wings with mist and snow
And flew back into the world
Where rains were born

I wiped the drops of music
That accumulated on my face
And lifted the doors to awakening
Shunning the world into quiet
The sunrays were engrossed in a fistfight
Finally the curtains gave up

Twists and turns
And I reached the secret door
The key was missing
And I wanted to break in
When the sun finally walked in
With the birds by his side
And told me the direction
Where I could reunite with the sky

Sway to be mine

2008-06-16T14:03:00.001+05:30

Cross my way And look back for a sec
Turn around again
And meet my eyes
In me you will find
A volatile stare
An unstable concern
That will fly away
With the time

As you hold me
And swing through the beats
I walk away
And then get back to you
The hold is not right
Neither the seize
I find my feet
Lying next to you

Fighting the rhythm
And finding the ease
Hold me and drop
And get me back on my feet
It takes two to tango
And one to sway the mind
As we finish the dance
Your heart should say
It’s mine

am a refugee in my own world

2008-03-06T12:01:00.000+05:30

Mornings are the beginning
Of the day and
The way you behave for the rest of it
It can set it all right
And then it can also quash
Today was such a gloomy day
When I din wanna see the world
Or talk to people around me
I woke up sad with a heavy heart
And all the bad things were wandering beside me
May be it was last night
That left me with lots of questions
And over a series of dreams
The answers were still not found
What do I say when people get difficult
For I want to run away from the world today
I Am a refugee in my own world
A vagabond in my own right
With an imbalanced state of mind
I surrender to almighty tonight

you shall come again

2007-10-29T03:43:00.000+05:30

Roton was accompanying his baba to Kolkata this time. Though he did not want to leave their little mud house in Panshkura where he could lay all day and think about his maa. But baba dragged him. Baba wanted Roton to be happy. He felt sad for his 6 year old son who was motherless now. Everyday he dreamt of his mother feeding him muri and milk or roti and milk for dinner. Then she slowly lulled him to sleep. Roton never had any nightmare. Infact he never had dreams. As long as he held his maa’s saree.

Roton kept thinking how beautiful his mother looked last year during the sindoor khela at the village puja pandal. She wore a white saree with red paar and roton danced the whole evening. Shantu dragged Roton to the puja pandal at Behala where he had to play dhak along with his fellow dhakis for the next five days. Roton was also given a small metal instrument to play with a stick. But he was zilch interested. There were lots of people around but roton could not take his mind off his mother. After all it’s been only a month since maa left him forever. She drowned at the river while taking bath. Roton wanted to go with her but baba did not allow him. How roton hated baba for letting maa go alone and stop him.

Baba played dhak like a madman throughout the evening. He had also drunk some alcohol and started crying after one his colleague enquired about maa. Roton wanted to run away.

It was Navami and the crowd was maddening. Baba kept playing for three continuous hours. And Roton stood next to him with his metal instrument, playing it one in a while. He was sad and baba could sense it. He tried to cheer him but everytime he spoke to roton all he asked was… “Baba, maa kobe ashbe?” (When will maa return?). That night roton did not eat. He mourned for his mother and went off to sleep crying. Suddenly someone woke him up. With heavy eyes roton opened half of his lids and looked. He saw maa sitting infront of him. Roton jumped. It was her. She was back. Finally. He made her come back. Roton hugged her and started crying asking her not to leave him anymore. Maa comforted roton and told him that she loved him very much. Roton got down from her arms and looked at her. She was wearing a beautiful pink benaroshi saree and was looking gorgeous. Maa took roton in her arms and then made him eat a bowl full of milk and roti. Then she lulled him to sleep but roton tied her pallu to his waist s that she cannot leave.

Baba was surprised to see roton smiling in his sleep. He woke him up. But when roton saw baba waking him up, roton got up started searching for maa. He told baba that maa has come back and will never leave them. He told him how wonderful she looked in a pink benarashi and made him eat milk and roti with lots of sugar in it. Shantu was sad that his son was slowly was not able to cope up with his mother’s death. He kissed him on his cheeks and went out for a cup of tea. Roton kept looking for maa all day long but she was nowhere to be found. Finally the goddess was carried onto the truck and was about to leave for bhashan. Roton was disappointed that maa had left him alone again when he suddenly noticed the goddess wearing the same pink benaroshi that maa was wearing last night. The truck started moving and roton started running behind it. Because he did not want her to leave him for the third time.

2007-10-29T03:03:00.000+05:30

chand kabhi purana nahin hota
sau nakhre hazaar harkatein
ek din ki ashiki aur ki karvatein
shokhiyon ka majma
kabhi is gali kabhi us chat par
charpayi par bokhrti hui ada
aur bheegta hua roshni ka zarra
gair ho to kos bhi sakun
par yeh to apna bhi nain
kash koi rishta na judta isse
ab ek hi khayal aabad hai
ki chand kabhi purana nahin hota
sau nakhre hazaar harkatein

2007-10-08T01:49:00.000+05:30

Mere bachpan ki khurchan kahin padi hui hai
Mere yaadon ka kahin basera hoga
Mein dhoondhti reh jaati hun khud ko kabhi kabhi
Aaiina mujhe bhi kabhi na pehchanta hoga

Ek dhoondhli si diary mein
Kuch line likh dale the
Un lineone mein ab khud ki bheegi hui frock dhoondhti hun
Wo pehla tohfa bachpan ka
Aaj kahin gum sa ho gaya hai
Kabhi aate jaate kisi humsafar ko kabhi to wo vakya mila hoga
Mere bachpan ki khurchan kahin padi hui hai
Mere yaadon ka kahin basera hoga

2007-09-13T15:25:00.000+05:30

Mohabbat ka khamiyaza bharna mushkil ho gaya hai
Kirane ki dukaan par ab zameer bhi girvi rakh di hai
Betuke sawalon ka jamavada pareshanan karne laga hai
Lendaroon ki katar badhti hi ja rahi hai

Rukshi sukhi rotiyon se guzara nahin hota
Teri haath ka banaye hua tandoor ab bhi swaad deta hai
Soona aassman tana deta hai raat ko
Ab chand isse ruth kar kahin aur basne laga hai

Karz chukate chukate bik jaunga
Ek roz aur jeeya to mitti ki tarah
Usi khakh mein mil jaunga
Jahan tujhko jala aaya tha
Aaj wo rakh surkh hai
Ismein maine apne khoon se kuch likh diya hai

2007-09-12T16:37:00.001+05:30

Chahat ki zameen aur mohabbat ka aasman
Ek khwahish ankahee si
Aur milon ki dooriyan
Uljhe huye rishte yehi hai meri saugaat
Gar yaad rakh sako hamein to ghum mein kar lena yaad

Lamhon ka nahin muddton ka ehsaas hai
Ek ankahee si kahani tumhare aur mere paas hai
Tum dekh lo iska chehra mainey isska deedar ab nahin karna
Tumko zindagi se bahar aur khud ko majboor nahin karna

Gulsitan ki mehek meri yaadon mein basti rahegi
Yeh dasstan teri aur meri dilon mein umadti rahegi
Mohabbat ka alag andaaz ahia yeh ise kabhi na chuna
Gar daag lag gaya toh dhote dhote umr beet jayegi

2007-09-12T14:47:00.001+05:30

I met this wonderful creature yesterday who brought about a heart change in me. From a person who disliked pets to an entity who is surfing to buy one, I see myself hopelessly inclined towards this cute lil fluffy creature called Elsa. Her beautiful eyes spoke sentences and there I was listening to her nonverbal communication. She sat near my feet and tones of affection oozed out of her wishful movements. She went round and round and kept coming back to my lap. Somehow, I wanted to be with her for hours… wished if she was with me. And then I realized that somewhere down the line, I will own a dog and it will be a Tibetan terrier.

2007-09-12T12:57:00.000+05:30

Aaj hansne ki fursat mil gayi hai use
Aaj muskurane ka zimma uspar hai
Ek lab seedhi karke aur doosri ko thoda sa tedha kiya
Ek toya gal par aur duniya ko hansi mein samet liya

Meine bhi usko dekhkar apni hansi ko rasta bataya
Muskurane ki tamanna ki aur hansi ne irshaad farma diya
Dil hans pada khul kar aur ankhon ne ansoon behka diya
Bola khushi aur ghum saath nahin rehte
Aaj dono ko ek baar phir se mila diya

Notebook ke panne par aaj ki tareekh likh dali
Aaj dono ki hansi ka waqt bhi note kar liya
Phir pata nahin kab kudrat meherbaan ho
Fursat dobara mile na mile
Muskurahat vapas aye na aaye
Hansi ne chupke se phir gudgudi kar di
Wo hans pada aur saath mein main bhi
Aaj fursat ka intezaar nahin kiya
Ek toya halke se mere gal par bhi tehra gaya

2007-08-30T21:31:00.000+05:30

It aches, it bleeds but it doesn’t say sorry
For all the pain I suffer because of it
For all the misery I subject myself to
A lifetime of complexities
And a turn after the page where I left it
It doesn’t stop, it continues
The story unfinished
As short as two minutes
Envelopes the half of you life
And mine too
It aches, it bleeds, it doesn’t say sorry
My heart so ungrateful
It doesn’t help me forget u.

2007-08-17T14:57:00.001+05:30

Humans are bastards. They are worse than jackals. Shambling situations are so not unknown to them. They love to do sin and not talk about it. Worse talk about it. They are selfish and they know that are bloody self-seeking, pleasure desiring and attention hogging creatures. But then, the early you realize your mistakes, the better it is for people you are around with. Because no one is gonna pay for you. Neither you are goona be answerable for anyone. So stand up and jerk our nervous cells that tend to live in a trance where everything is so yours.

sifar

2007-08-09T13:00:00.000+05:30

Mein ek sifar hun
Aur mera jahan ummed hai

Kuch kuch sharmaati hui
Salon purani rassiyaan
Pal pal katti huye
Mahalon ke beech kii galiyaan

Mere saath chal deti hai
Ek bachpan ki gudiya
Kuch adhpake dost
Aur ghutnon par lagi hui mitti

Ek khatputli baramde mein
Aur ek rail gaadi sadak par
Peeche laga hua ek jhunjhuna
Jo nana lekar aaye the

Kheennchte kheenchte
Raaste khatam ho gaye
Yeh raat bhi kahtam ho jayegi
Aur mei sifar hi reh jaungi

Mein ek sifar hun
Aur mera jahan ummed hai
Kyunki bachpan kabhi adhura nahin marta
Wo kabhi purana nahin hota
Wo hamesha yaadon mein zinda rehta hai
Wo meri ummed mein saans leta hai

buddha needs to come back

2007-08-09T10:32:00.000+05:30

It’s like a lifetime of contradictions. It’s like living dissatisfaction. Whenever you feel you are the incomplete one with no perfect situations, you have more of them pouring in with lesser solutions. And some more. And more. Look outside the window, you will find n number of people living lives that are difficult. Infact look around in the same room. No one gets everything. And expecting to get everything is probably a sin. Because wanting everything for you is not happening. Other’s also need it. How do you think is you’re the one going to get the chunk and the rest will be deprived of happiness. But then what you are always unhappy. Then may be you have to fish out the happiest moments and try and relive them. Yes that’s the only solution. So have I cracked it for myself? Well I donno. May be yes may be not yes. May be it’s just that I know what to do but do not want to. Realizing that other people’s lives are as difficult as yours is a Baudhic Satya. But then I am no Buddha to make amends. Trust me. I am not.

2007-08-01T22:54:00.000+05:30

If stories were real than I would have been a great storyteller for sure. My thoughts are stories but characters are alive. My situations are tragic but emotions are surreal. Believe them if you want to. Don’t if you dare so. For I am not a great gabber. I can only weave words. And when words reflect emotions. You have to give me a story. So that it can touch you. And make tears pour. Just like the fairytale. With the fairy godmother turning evil. And the dwarfs killing snow white. Imagine life like that. And then the reality will sink in.

2'nite i can't sleep

2007-07-30T02:19:00.000+05:30

it's late
am burning midnight's oil
i want to sleep
but sleep is faraway
somehwere in the woods
sneaking through the bushes
and hiding away from me

it's late
that's what the clock shows
and everyone is asleep
in their own dreamland
and iam thinking
about times i have spent
with people whom i loved and people whom i miss

it's late
and i should wrap the night
lull myself into it
and wish it goodnite
but my eyes are rebellious
and so is my mind
they keep me wide awake
while the night walks by

it's late
and few minutes later
the dawn will break
and the sun will wish me morning
i will open half the curtains
and catch a halfhearted glimpse

it's late
and time for me to review the day
and sleep promises to see me tomorrow
so i wait for her impatienlty
and the night to end as soon as it could

2007-07-27T17:49:00.001+05:30

Ek pagal kutte ki maut ne duniya ko hila diya. Haan wo kutta jsine mujhe campus mein kata tha. Wo mar gaya par jate jate mujhe badnaam kar gaya. Log mujhe ghoorte aur phir fusfusate; yeh wahi hai na jise katne ke baad kutta mar gaya tha? Areey bhai… kata kisne kutte ne.. jaan kiski gayi kutte ki gayi, doshi kaun main? Yeh kaisa insaaf hai. Teen hazaar ke injections maine lagaye. Kisi aur aadmi ne kutte ko pathar se maar maar jaann le li. Kyunki wo pagal tha. Nahin zaroori nahin har pagalpan ka anjam maut ho. Par jab kisi aur ka pagalpan aap ke upar dannt gadh de.. toh iske bare mein sochna zaroori ho jata hai. Aur haan us kutte ki maut mein mera koi haath nahin tha.

the list of do not's

2007-07-26T14:21:00.001+05:30

Just try and change the way your parents’ time table works. Just try it sometime and trust me the opposition that you will face will be difficult to face. We can rather call it the my way or highway syndrome. If you go against their wish and will then you will have to face a weapon called emotions splurge and it will hurt you bad. To quote Russel Peters, “somebody’s gonna get hurt real bad.” Well the heart wrenches and all you do is either blast out your frustration or keep shut and sulk. Both ways it is harmful. So either you part ways or seek permission to venture out with a promise to come back. Suit yourself.

there you go again

2007-07-26T13:30:00.000+05:30

I wonder why we have the urge to do things which are strictly prohibited. I mean if you’re asked not to eat for a day, you will go nuts thinking about food. If you are asked not to touch something, you will go crazy unless you have laid your hands on it. Most of the people end up parking at no parking. Eve’s apple eating thingy reinforces the fact. Talking about sex is taboo but hey everybody does it. and yes talk about it too. So here we are, psychologically stirred, so called grown up people who are no better than kids. Because it’s the same for both of us; doing things that have been asked not to do.

2007-07-25T12:33:00.000+05:30

It's a day not so good. It's a day not so happy. It cribs like me. It whines all the time. It starts with some talks. Not very interesting. It proceeds into phases. Dull. Boring. Frivolous. I talk. I smile. I frown. I cry. I complain to the day. and blame it for everything worng. I gape it with anger. and ask it to buzz off. The day wraps itself in the blanket of the sky. The day ends with a sob. i stare at it. say sorry before i go to bed. Ask for a promise that it will be good to me. Hope we both smile when we wake up. The dawn breaks. I greet my day. My day smiles at me. We hope good for each other.and promise to keep each other happy. Our promises are less known. They are as false as the mirage.

2007-07-24T17:55:00.000+05:30

It starts with:
food
games
toys
dolls
rackets
tv
computer
girl
boy
friend
love
sex
books
money
condoms
mobile
bikes
cars
tv
clothes
jeans
medicines
shirts
tops
frocks
babies
marriage
life
curry
fiction
noodles
neighbours
mother
father
husband
wife
promotion
children
old age
and
ends with yourself

Mujhe aaj kuch nahin kehna hai

2007-07-23T13:24:00.000+05:30

Kehte kehte thak gayi hun
Aaj thoda susta lun
Jo baki reh gaya hai kehne ko
Usko dil mein dohra lun
Saal do saal ka nahin
Yeh sadiyon ka tanabana hai
Ek palak jhapka li hai
Doosri ko jhapka lun

Rasston ki dhool mein
Caravan ke saath saath
Kadam kadam ko kheenchte huye
Manzil tak pahuncha lun
aaj takiya bheeg gaya hai
Dhoop ki hatheli par sar ko thama lun
Ladte ladte thak gayi hun
Aaj thoda susta lun
Ek bahn sambhal gayi hai
Doosri ko sambhal lun

Chabootare ki chor par khade khade
Galiyon mein jhakna
Choodi wale ki aahat hote hi
Bina chappal bhagna
Aaj choodiyan toot gayi hain
Khanak ko bacha lun
Likhte likhte thak gayi hun
Aaj thoda susta lun
Ek waqt samajh gaya hai
Doosre ko samjha lun

for you after life

2007-07-16T18:44:00.000+05:30

Crimson chapters of love lost
And lavenderish touch of life
The story that was history
And buried under the violet sky
Where colours were prohibited
Because white ruled the place
And sorrow embraced the existence
With centuries that came and went

With footsteps felt every nano second
The reverberation was heard
Not by the human minds who walked over them
But souls that lay there for forever
An eerie feeling of love engulfed the tomb
With madness that was qualified
Something crawled under my skin
When I thought of love so dangerous, so wild

I strolled along the hall watching them making love
In my deepest imaginations I saw them dying
The wind hurt my skin as it pinched me with envy
I wondered how fateful love can be
My thoughts were washed away
When I saw the tomb again
Drenched in whiteness
It stood like a sad story

The eerie feeling continued as I touched the walls
Made of marble, chaste, pure, faithful
I was standing in a graveyard
Where love lay buried
And the wind stung people
When they walked hand in hand
Reminding them of the madness that they were standing upon
Enveloped by whiteness and beautiful like a dove
An eerie feeling of love engulfed the tomb

a minute long romance

2007-07-16T18:32:00.000+05:30

My steps were handful
And moments counted
I hesitated with apprehension
And thought it is not my first time
But how I felt uncomfortable
Only minutes before my date with him
I saw him enter the room

He was dressed in lilac
With a crown so absorbing
My eyes met his
And then he swept me off
My romance with him lasted for a minute
I wandered in his imagination
And indulged in delusion

He looked like a kid
With dancing eyes
And a way of magnetism
I never believed I would love him
Like I have never before

I thought about the moment over and again
The minute he caste his spell on me
My questions were answered that very instant
As I wanted to look at him for eternity

With world drooling at his charm
I felt jealous sharing his attention
But then I thought about his love for me
And enthralled eyes that he possessed
My romance with him had lasted a minute
But I was loved enough
To last me through eternity

Vagabond

2007-07-10T16:12:00.000+05:30

She left with love is all I remember
She kissed with vengeance is what I will never forget

I wandered along the lonely road with few cars here and there
With hollows of the past following me
I din want to run
So I walked slowly
Over a decade and years that followed

In came many seasons
Some rained and some froze the water
I walked bare feet and bare eyed
With torn clothes, beliefs and passion
I kept on my move down the creepy street
Covered with moss that made me slip now and then
I thought I will beg for a living
Seemed difficult with her in my mind

I have borrowed enough by now
I had traveled uphill
Now the shores called me in their arms
And I start for them

She must have never thought of me
Neither have I
No truly I haven’t
I only begged to live
And I walked around to survive

She left with love is all I remember
She kissed with vengeance is what I will never forget

I am away from you

2007-06-05T14:43:00.000+05:30

Miles apart and light years to reach you
I strolled down the aisle alone
Only to see you
Sometimes I wanted you and then I walked away from you
You call me mad, which is the only truth, I lived with you.

The days were longer the nights were petite
I could hold them no longer I could see them slip away
The sun rays took you away from me
I strolled down the garden alone
Only to see you
Sometimes I wanted you and then I walked away from you

I know I am away from you
But you stand next to my mind
I tried reaching your arm, wanted to hug you
I strolled down the sky alone
Only to see you
Sometimes I wanted you and then I walked away from you.

Am I goin Insane

2007-05-18T14:11:00.000+05:30

Insanity is trivial if it’s not a part of your life. Every human is insane. So what is so different about me? Iam insane about life. Iam insane about the way I want to be 10 years down the line. Iam mad about the thought if living one more day. About today. About the next hour. When I think of my days flying away without an achievement am mad about it. When I see someone whom I want to know but can’t, I am mad about it. I am mad about the love in my life. I am mad about the friendship that exists between the wide gaps of timeless salvation. Because madness exists in everyone. Your reality is today. You will realize it tomorrow. You will realize it someday. That somewhere there is a streak of madness that either lets you do things or doesn’t let you do things. Live like there is no tomorrow. Live like life will never give you second chance and you will know that madness is fun. It’s fun to revisit the memory lane and say that oh! I did that rather than say that Oh! Never got a chance. Life never gives you a second chance. What is security? What comes in a golden platter? No one is perfect so let life be good in its own imperfection. For once you will know that my insanity is justified. It’s something you will wish to have. Someday.

Manze ne kata

2007-04-30T19:32:00.001+05:30

Kuch kanch ke dhango mein usko uda diya
Hum poochte huye chale gaye
Wo udte hue beh diye

Kabhi kagaz ki ankhon se aasman napa
Kabhi mez par rekhkar aate ki gond se chipkaya wakyon ko
Is baar idhar udi us baar udhar
Hum poochte huye chale gaye
Usee door hawa mein baha diya

Abki baar soch liya tha apni patang banake rahungi
Mang layi thi kagaz kahin se
Hawa bhi thodi si udhaar mil gayi thi
Kambakht baarish ne dushmani nibhayi phir
Sara neela rang dhul gaya
Main poochti reh gayi
Is baar barish ne baha diya

stop child labour

2007-04-26T20:34:00.000+05:30

The fairy godmother never appeared. Cinderella continued as a domestic help.

Set fire to the wonderland

2007-04-03T17:01:00.000+05:30

I don’t know how you do this and I don’t want to know the reason. But when I open the windows and let the wind caress my face, I feel you touching me. Your gentle eyes moving around the room, touching all the corners where I walked yesterday, and wanting to hold everything that you thought was mine. It’s a dilemma as how should I tell you what’s between us might not be the most beautiful feeling. But it’s nothing less than a mirage so beautiful, lit by the loveliest of suns and the best of flowers from the land of unknown. I wonder how simple your smile is. And I wonder if I could ever touch your lips the way you touched mine. As I sink into your chocolate skin only to find my skin deep rooted within. And I wonder how my thoughts float around the earth with you in my mind. I keep wondering about things that happened sometime in the sunlit sky; you standing with open arms and me flying away only to reunite in the monsoon that’s going to set fire to my wonderland.

Aaj Phir Ret Phisal Gayi

2007-03-20T12:13:00.000+05:30

Shor machati hui lehron ke saath aayi
Aur kano mein kuch kehkar vapas chali
Apne saath le gayi kisse
Aur mein wahin khade khade sochte rehi
Phir ek shaam dhal gayi
Aaj phir ret phisal gayi

Maine kaha usse ki mere paas kyun aati hai
Wo boli pichli baar jab tum aayi thi
Toh lehron ne tumhein roka tha
Tum boli mein phir aungi
aur haath chuudha kar chali gayi
main us vaade ke bare mein sochti rahi
phir ek shaam dhal gayi
aaj phir ret phisal gayi

maine usey manana chaha
khilone diye
gubbare diye
lehron ne toh hans diya
aur jhoom kar khushiyon mein beheti chali gayin
par ret mujhse naraz thi
shikayat par shikayat karti chali gayi
maine kadmon ko sameta
aur uske thikaane se door nikal gayi
phir ek sham dhal gayi
kal ret mere pairon se phisal gayi

The Big Bold Vengeance

2007-03-12T19:32:00.000+05:30

Billu wanted to run. For Pammi aunty was going to pay them a visit. How Billu hated her for she pinched his cheeks just like a playdough . Well practically everybody molested his cheeks for they were round and extremely plump. And he hated them all.
It was Diwali and Billu was terrified about the number of relatives who were going to visit them. Every lot had at least 6-8 people out of which at least 3 asked him to perform bhangra and puled his cheeks. Billu blamed fate. Why did they have so many relatives? As usual one of the early visitors that evening was Pammi aunty.
Mama had given him strict instructions. He had to behave himself with the guests, especially Pammi aunty. But Billu had decided to teach her a lesson. As soon as Pammi aunty said hello to him, Billu got mounted on a chair and started pulling Pammi aunty’s cheeks. “hello moti aunty, I mean Pammi aunty. Why don’t you leave me alone? You see it hurts when you pinch my cheeks.” Pammi aunty burst into an agonizing scream and Billu enjoyed every bit of it. Billu’s mother reached for him but before anybody could catch him, Billu jumped on the floor and ran upstairs.
Now he was happy. Atleast he had taken his revenge.

Jana pehchana sa kuch …

2007-03-08T16:30:00.000+05:30

Khali khali raasston ki dhool ko pehna kare the.
Apne aap ko pani mein dekha kare the
Parchai thi meri par laga jaise ateet ka badal hai
Reh reh sapno mein khud hi dara kare the

Kabhi tumko chahkar bhi na paya apne paas
Kabhi tum the to na thi nazdikiyaan
Khurchan thi yaadon ki jo saher ke saath
Pighlti chali gayi pighalti chali gayi

Yeh aaj ya kal ka kissa nahin hai
Yeh un panno ka tanabana hai jo phad diye gaye the
Deewaron mein saaye chunvaye nahin the maine
Bus deewaron mein saaye dhunda kare the.

My Memories of You

2007-03-08T13:31:00.000+05:30

It’s been 5 years since we met. Akash used to be a charmer and a great friend. It was the 25th December of my life when I last saw him.

We first met in college. Though akash took sometime to, but eventually we ended up being good friends. Akash was not a loner but he never allowed anyone to enter the inner peripherals of his life. I liked him for he was a chilled out person who never has any reservations or apprehension, never fussed and never really bothered me.

One those evening when we were walking down the road to my home, Akash mentioned that he wanted to go abroad for further studies. Though not very happy about the fact of he leaving, yet I felt happy for him. Soon it was the day when he had to leave for the US and we were waiting at the airport lobby. I was exceptionally quite for I did not know what to say. Suddenly somebody pinched me hard. I screamed with pain and everyone started staring at us. Akash caught hold of me and said, “ hey gorgeous, life is going to be difficult with out you.” I was totally taken aback. Couldn’t utter a word. He continued. “Don’t be surprised. I love you and it’s been the same since I met you.” So whatever you say, it’s going to remain the same.”

Akash left. And he left me totally confused. He came back after 4 years and I was married to Neeraj. I attended Akash’s wedding with my first kid. That was the last time I saw Akash. That was the last time I saw love in his eyes for me.

let the best human win

2007-02-19T14:41:00.000+05:30

If you ever realise how things can go from bad to worse then you will also know that things can get back into place within no time. In the recent history of my life, I have always encountered issues that are not just self-oriented but also centered around people who revolve around me. People have come and people have left or may be I have walked away but their existence has never ceased for me. It’s so difficult to express your heart out because it’s very difficult to know what’s there in your heart. Besides being a blood-pumping machine does it hold any good to you? Some say it does. Some say it doesn’t. But I believe that for every want you ought to have the ability to turn it into a reality. Years have passed on, things have happened. What baffles me is the ability of a human to live life and enjoy every bit of it. Don’t know what premonitions are but yes today they make sense to me.

Yeah!!! They deserve it.

2007-02-07T19:03:00.000+05:30

With the rest of the world harping about racial discrimination and fiscal equality, Radha face was battered with a belan for not cooking chicken for her brother-in-law. No, this is not another article on female abuse. This is an attempt to make people see how unreasonable women can be. Radha went on to become a feminist after joining an organization called Mukti, a center for rehabilitation for abused women. Blame her for doing all the male bashing. Blame the women for fueling issues like incest, rape at home, sexual abuse and physical torture to a level where media churns out juicy features and grabs eyeballs. Radha and hundreds of other women like her are the main culprits who are tampering with the ethics and moral of this not-so-dirty society. All they had to do was to keep shut and go on with their lives. Everything would have been so hunky dory. But look at it now. Hundreds of women’s organizations at work, trying to rescue battered and burnt women from kitchens and bedrooms. We are being deprived of so many real life Phoolan Devis. That’s so unfair. Beat them, burn them, and batter them for they deserve to be treated like that , like a piece of shit ,because men need an outlet to their frustration. Too bad. Women like Radha should rather bear with some brutality rather than malign the fellow race of self proclaimed torchbearers of the society. Too bad. How do the god’s favorite race survive alongside such tormentors called women.

Midnapur Local

2007-01-22T21:21:00.000+05:30

Nanaji ka ghar kharagpur ki railway colony mein hua karta tha. Garmi ki chuttiyan ya phir durga poooja ki, meri mummy aur midnapur local main baith kar chal dete. Teen ghante ki yatra aur pahunch gaye hum kharagpur. Nanaji mujhse bohot pyar karte the. Unki sabse badi naatin thi na. Dopahar ko jab nanaji workshop se aate toh khana khakar charpai par fail jate aur mujhse par dabvate. Main bhi khuch hokar pair dabati kyunki iska inaaam 50 paisa hua karta tha. Shaam ko apna inaam lekar main jaalidaar gate ke saamne aankhen bichaye khadi rehti thi. Thodi der main wahan se ice cream wala awaaz lagat hua gujrta tha. Darwaza khola aur bina chappal pehne daud ke icecream wale ke paas pahunch jati. Aaj kuch 4 saal beet gaye hain. Nanaji ke usghar ko dekhe huye. Nanaji ki maut ne sirf us sheher se hi nahin balki us ghar se ek doori bana di. Haan kuch yaadein hain jo hamesha sanjo kar rakhungi par shayad vo 50 paise ka inaam mujhe bacha kar rakhna chahiye tha.

I met Lama

2007-01-18T14:37:00.000+05:30

Mini rubbed her eyes and pushed herself out of the bed. It was 6:30, cold and dark outside. She hated school in winters. She dragged herself into the bathroom.

Mini boarded the bus at 7:30 and sat on her favourite seat that lulled her into a sweet nap for about forty-five minutes. But the nap seemed little shorter than usual for the bus stopped with a jolt.
Mini woke up from her slumber only to realize that their bus was now hanging from the cliff facing a deep pit. Gangtok was a beautifull hill station in Sikkim with Himalayas stretching its arms and enveloping the place into a cozy hug. Mini’s father was an IAS officer and hence was on a posting there. Originally from Kerala, mini was familiar with the vast blue mass called the sea, but mountains thrilled her. Today, here she was hanging from the top of a cliff, begging god to save her life. Suddenly somebody patted her back. She turned around and found a kid smiling at her. Mini knew all the kids who traveled to school with her. But this guy seemed like a stranger. Probably he was a local kid who might have taken a lift till the bazaar. The kid looked into her eyes, took her hand and flew up in the sky only to land her up at a safer place. Mini stood her dumfounded, unable to speak or move her arms. The kid looked like a lama, a little lama with an orange piece of cloth wrapped around him. He kissed her cheek softly, gave her a small prayer wheel and vanished into thin air.

Mini woke up to an ear deafening sound. The driver was wildly honking and the bus was empty, standing in front of the school. Mini stepped down only to realize that it was nothing but a nightmare. She splashed some water onto her face from her water bottle and started walking towards her classroom when something fell from her bag with a thud. Mini turned back only to spot a small prayer wheel lying there.

main janti hun ki ab yeh munasib nahin...

2007-01-16T13:01:00.000+05:30

Har pal kuch yun udaas rehti hai zindagi
Teri ankhon ke paas rehti hai zindagiii
Tu kahin bhi jaye par yeh yaad rakhna
Apni ankhon se tera peecha kartii hai zindagi
Muqtalif waqt kabhi humko naseeb ho na ho
Teri aagosh mein basne ka ghuman karti hai zindagi

Sochti hun ki maine khushiyon ko apne dil mein kyun chupayee rakha
Jo hale bayaaan karna tha usee kyun dabaye rakha
Pehle kabhi pankhon mein dilchaspi na li thi
Aaaj tere saath udne ki tamanna karti hai zindagi
Teri agosh mein basne ka ghuman karti hai zindagi

Banjare hain hum banjare hi rahenge
Kafilon mein chalte hain kabhi yahan toh kabhi wahan
Teri darakthon ke pass aakar apnepan ka ehsaas hota hai
Teri jadon mein sama jane ki khwahish rakhti hai zindagi
Apni ankhon se tera peecha karti hai zindagi

yun hi dard ka glorification

2007-01-04T15:29:00.000+05:30

“Koi yeh kaise bataye ke wo tanha kyun hai
Wo jo apna tha kabhi aur kisis ka kyun hai
Yeh hota hai to akhir yehi hota kyun hai
Yehi duniya hai toh akhir aisi yeh duniya kyun hai

Dil-e-barbaad se nikla nahin ab tak koi
Ek lutee ghar mein diya karta hai dastak koi
Aaass jo tuut gayi phir se bandhata kyun hai”

-Jagjit singh

Kehte hain ki har sawaal ka jawab nahin hota. Lekin main samjhti hun ki har sawaal apna jawab saath mein lekar janm leta hai. Bus zarrorat hoti hai jawaab dene wale ko dhoodhne ki. Sawaal jawab ke is tanebaane ko aage le jaate huye jagjit ji ne ek bohot hi gehri ghazal padhi thi. Tanhiyaaaniyan jab appko apni aagosh mein saamet leti hain toh aatma ghut kar reh jati hai. ek apne ka paraya ho jana apke vajood ko tod kar rakh deta hai. khushiyon ka jashn bhale hi na manay ho, par barbadiyon ke kafile ko dhoom dham se sajaya jata hai. aakhir yeh dard kisi bhi dil ka itna apna kyun hota hai? isliye kyunki dard ka raasta mohabbat se hote hui khamoshiyon ke khandaharr tak jata hai. Jahan aaanson nahin sirf parchaiyaan hoti hai. Mano ya na mano.

Love Untold

2007-01-02T15:47:00.000+05:30

I can write the saddest lines tonight.

Write for example: ‘The night is fractured
and they shiver, blue, those stars, in the distance’
The night wind turns in the sky and sings.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
I loved her, sometimes she loved me too.
On nights like these I held her in my arms.I
kissed her greatly under the infinite sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could I not have loved her huge, still eyes.
I can write the saddest lines tonight.
To think I don’t have her, to feel I have lost her.
Hear the vast night, vaster without her.
Lines fall on the soul like dew on the grass.
What does it matter that I couldn’t keep her.
The night is fractured and she is not with me.
That is all. Someone sings far off.
Far off,my soul is not content to have lost her.
As though to reach her, my sight looks for her.
My heart looks for her: she is not with me.
The same night whitens, in the same branches.
We, from that time, we are not the same.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the breeze to reach her.
Another’s kisses on her, like my kisses.
Her voice, her bright body, infinite eyes.
I don’t love her, that’s certain, but perhaps I love her.
Love is brief: forgetting lasts so long.
Since, on these nights, I held her in my arms,my soul is not content to have lost her.
Though this is the last pain she will make me suffer,and these are the last lines I will write for her.

Pablo Neruda

One of my favourite poems. Not because it talks about broken love but it talks about love in a way no one else does. It is one of those pieces of poetry that doesn’t rhyme but trickles your within and makes you realize how woven words can fish out your long lost feelings. I remember the first time laureen (my IIMC classmate) gave me a poetry booklet and the first poem I read was this one. I wrote it down on a piece of paper and carried it with me in my wallet. I have written poetry and have read quite some poets but I guess this would remain the only one i remeber till my the end.

Lemme see happiness

2006-12-27T16:51:00.000+05:30

Never has existence been so obscure
Never have I thought of bliss in the recent times
Never have I slept in the nights without dreariness

For all I did was to just stand aside and watch it happen
And not even touch a life and bring in difference
For all I liked about being was to live
And not help you find comfort in the midst of penance

I cursed thy lord for making this world
A painting of despair and distress
But he taught me how to rejoice in pain and suffering

I wish to accept my wrongs and live with thy existence
With a world of hopefuls awaiting me at the horizon
I propose to be born again

ya rabba

2006-12-26T19:47:00.000+05:30

“Pyar hai ya sazaa aeeee mere dil bata
Tootata kyun nahin dard ka silsila
Is pyar main ho kaise kaise intehaaan
Yeh pyar likhe kaisi kaisi dasstan
Yah rabba dede koi jaan bhi agar
Dilbar pe ho na dilbar pe ho koi asar.”

Well the poet did not do much because believe it or not, this is so true. Though people don’t die for love these days yet there is always something oh-so-special about this love- thingy. The charm of a love story has gone for a toss in recent years but I guess our bollywood still manages to keep the spirits alive. Lately, there aren’t many Romeos and Juliets around to get inspired from, but then you can’t ignore the presence of a heartbeat next to yours. Gosh! I still debate over this feeling that entwines a person’s existence.

souls for life

2006-12-22T18:20:00.000+05:30

For all the days I yearned for you; for all the years I thought of being together
In the moments of oneness and separation, there was assurance of being next to each other
I will get back in time to see you happy; I will get back with life to feel the spirits soar
With just a soul to offer and bundles of joy to share, my shadow will enclose you forever and ever.

The deep slumber

2006-12-01T14:19:00.000+05:30

Raghav was very restless. He could not sleep the other night. The staunch odour of the hospital made him feel sick from the stomach. He puked. As he opened his eyes, he saw his mother bijli standing in the verandah. She was the one who had brought him here. How terribly worried she looked even though her tears had dried by now. She must have stood there whole night, wide-awake. Raghav pitied his poor mother. She worked hard, for his father had abandoned all three of them. Raghav lived with his mother and his little brother Mitwa, on a pavement near Ber sarai. Bijli sold fruits there. Though the profit was not very great but at least she could feed her children. Suddenly someone threw him down the bed. He saw mother running, howling hysterically. He thought he was having a nightmare. Why wasn’t ma saying anything. What had happened? He was all right now. Why wasn’t she taking him back? Preoccupied with thoughts he reached for his head but then there was nothing he could touch. What’s this? He wanted the nightmare to be over. He tried opening his eyes but nothing worked. All he could remember was a car driven by a drunkard that dabbled onto the pavement and crushed him. Bijli stood crying. She could not even see her son for there was nothing left. Raghav walked out of the room. Now all he wanted to do was, sleep.

Dreamz Unlimited

2006-11-27T10:42:00.000+05:30

Sunday night news flash got everyone in my house worried. Reason?? This famous film star, getting married to another film star. The sad part is, my friend has hots for him. The best part is –she has a boyfriend to substantiate her loss. No, not kidding. There are people who are a part of this utopia. They are prudent enough to differentiate, but then who really wants to? When you are happy dreaming, everything else can wait. Till the dream lasts. Life is too short to stop oneself from dreaming. Especially when you have to dream about this hot film star. What say??

the last rites

2006-11-22T18:33:00.000+05:30

Just a short story.

Mashi and meshomoshai looked stunning together. Like any other love marriage, theirs too met with lots of criticism. Mesho was a tamil brahmin. Megha mashi has been one of the most dynamic personalities I have ever come across. Though 30 years old, she was a perfect fit at any age group. Kids simply loved her. So did I. Creamy complexion, almond shaped eyes and a round nose were all she had. Yet she looked like a piece of painting straight out of canvas. Guess that’s why she was popular as mishti mashi.

I was almost 18 years younger than mashi. As already discussed, she looked so glamorous that it did not come as a surprise to me when she was called my elder sister. I was in my tenth standard when mashi moved out of the house with meshomoshai. She was so like my mother. I missed her often but studies and tennis kept me busy.

Rimjhim was born to mashi on the 25th of Dec. A beautiful baby girl who resembled mashi and uncannily me. For she was the youngest in the family, I spoiled her with chocolates and gifts. But then there was one thing no one could ever gift her-a healthy life to live. Rimjhim was born with a genetic disease, which could not be cured. It was her 15th birthday when she breathed her last. I believed, mashi would lose her heart. But then she took me by surprise. She moved on with life. It was rimjhim’s 2nd death anniversary. I was in Malaysia when I received an e-mail from mesho. Though never had a very friendly relationship with him for he never liked me much but he was quite a gentleman-

My dear vidhi,

Today, my world is coming to an end as Iam losing megha to sorrow. Iam losing her to something with which she had struggled lifelong. Megha had two children and lost both them to destiny. Rimjhim and you. You were born to her prior to her marriage. Her love for you made her giveaway you to varsha didi. There isn’t any specific reason for me to tell you all this today. Years have gone by and you have filled her life with love. Just one more thing. You indeed look like your mother. Your biological mother.

Meshomoshai.

My car pulled-off in front of mashi’s house. I felt betrayed when I looked into my mom’s eyes. She it knew all these years. I walked into mashi’s room.

My flight was on a cold winter evening. The breeze cut through my skin. was on my way back after mashi’s last rites. My cheeks were damp. The lights went off as I lay there with my unanswered questions. Whom do I miss now? Megha mashi or my maa?

2006-11-21T10:54:00.000+05:30

Even a Dog can bitch.

Couple of weeks back at a friend's place, I heard this guy talk about his boss. Sure enough, no one likes his/her boss, but then the conversation did not end there. He had a big list of people to talk about. Not just once, but I came across such instances more than often where I heard guys discuss not just chicks but also fellas. And if you think that men can only discuss office and business then think again. Their topics range from- how neat boss’s wife looked in her cleavage showing sari, the new flavoured condom in town, how this female colleague of theirs got a double promotion besides being inefficient at her work and of course the girls they are laying around. Now all you need to get refreshed, is to catch hold of a male colleague, incase you don’t find a female one. Because bitching is not just a woman’s foray anymore.

2006-11-16T13:55:00.000+05:30

When i first met Mr. Ray

It was one of those dull days when chanddak decided to take a walk till Nandan. As usual, he dragged me along. Not many friends and his fascinating personality made us good friends, though i disliked most of his habits. Chanddak used to wear those typical khadi kurtas over a pair of old jeans, which he never cared to wash for ages. My light green salwar kameez was filled with little spots of dirt as we walked through the muddy water. Nandan is one of the most beautiful theatres I have ever seen. Built on a small pond, it bears testimony to one of the golden eras of Indian Cinema. It was a long walk. He kept on talking about various things, like his best friend, college, parents, Rabindranath and his childhood to list a few. I was quietly listening to him. By the time we reached there, our clothes were dirty. Chanddak dragged me into this gallery just next to Nandan. I hardly knew anything about art. People were talking about how wonderful the paintings were. We slipped into a section where I saw old book covers, pinned neatly on a soft board. A closer look revealed that they were words. Then I found collections of short stories, age-old children’s magazine and poems. Lots of them. Chanddak was standing next to me. With a grin on, he introduced me to the artist whose work was displayed. “Meet Mr. Satyajit Ray.” And I always thought he made only movies.

2006-11-16T11:10:00.000+05:30

a tale that barks...

I have never really been a dog lover. So never became hysterical when i saw stray puppies or even for that matter the pedigree ones. My friends found it a little funny as i was not one of them calling out "ohhhh, cho chweet" in the middle of the street, thus being the centre of a public gaze. But then, I introduced myself to a world of women who found motherhood boring and painfull but preffered to call their pets as their babies. I never hated animals, yet the attitiude of this clan of women gave me a strong sense of envy. The other day, an acquaintance called a two day old baby girl ugly and two minutes later she claimed a pup to be the cutest thing on earth. Guess she has every right to feel so. But what amuses me are the reactions. Are women becoming the epitome of pretension ??? Well this question will be left unaswered for me, but one thing is for sure. You know what? The oh-cho-chweet, is the most fabricated expression i have ever come across in the last couple of years.