A Little Bit Of Everything!!!

My Last Poem

2005-06-15T15:55:00.000+05:30

No more words. Nothing, never.
There've been too many already.
Just a silence-long, deep, eternal
A decay-painful, slow, but steady.

The only window to my mind still open
Is contaminating the machine; I'm getting rusty
This window needs to be shut down now
The storms are too strong and too dusty.

We've seen together moments good and bad
Some special, some anguished, of praises and fights
For all the love, the friendship, the admiration
And equally the pain-I'm as grateful as one might

Maybe you'd complain there's too much unsaid
And unheard, still, the decision won't bend
I beg you not to protest or plead, just remember
All things, good and bad, come to an end.

Incarnations cease to exist, but existence cannot.
Though I'd hate to, but I'll still be-invisible, but around.
I've lived for long, undeservedly, in your hearts
& As I empty this crazy home, it's only grief, and gratitude, profound.

Do me a last favour, fulfill the last wish
Do not wipe my tears, and do not question why
and I promise to stay as near to your heart
As u want; Just call my name out, for once,try

I'll live in the words I'm robbed off today
In coincidences from past, in every empty look
Tomorrow may not exist, today may be oblivious
So I'll be yesterday-until you chose to shut the History book

I beg you not mercy for selfishness unabated
I beg you not pity to this selfish piece of matter
Ibeg you not a chance to explain or justify
I just beg you to move on, and forget Envisager

Hi everyone,
I know it may come as unexpected to most of you, but the words above say it all I guess, and whatever they don't, would never be said. Those who can, would have already heard them.
I wanna thank everyone who ever came to this blog, who ever read anything i wrote, and to all those who cared to comment, criticise and appreciate. A 3300+ hit count in 30 days and perpertual comments prove that.
THANX A LOT.
I'm not gonna delete this page...I can't for I have loved it too much.
But I won't post again.
Or appear on blogging circles.
Still, I'll be around, for I don't have a choice.
Incarnations cease to exist, but existence cannot
If u ever liked or loathed anything on this page, or the person behind it, do me a favour. Do not ask me to change my decision, for i won't.
I beg you not to protest or plead- the decision will not bend
Anyway, if u ever regarded me as a friend, dont be afraid..u r not gonna LOSE me. I'll be there, always, as long as I am.
I guess have said enough, more than I needed to.
No more words. Nothing, never.
There've been too many already.

GoodBye
Lots of love and luck
Envisager

BLACK BEAUTY

2005-06-07T15:37:00.000+05:30

Just struck my mind
What if I were blind?
What if I did lack
A colour in life, except black?
What if I could have cried
But couldn't, even if I'd tried
See my own tear
A drop of water, crystal clear?
What if I never knew
How a tiny drop of dew
On a shimmery leaf appeared
And shone through when sunlight steered?
What if I could have felt
Touched and also smelt
The wet sand and the grasses tall
But never saw the raindrops fall?
What if I couldn't take a step
Without help, or without falling ahead
Me, goggles and a stick
Tightly and helplessly, trying to grip?
What if I didn't know
Dark and light, high and low
Just lived an entire life-dragged & slow
And never ever saw a rainbow!
What if I never "saw" a smile?
If the word "mirror" meant "futile"?
If I never saw little kids play?
All this(pause)would've been GOOD, I'd say!!
For then, all the filth, all the malice
The pain, the evil, the avarice
Would have been lost in the darkness of sight
For evil is evil only when something's bright
Then from my "eyes"
"Bad" would be as good as "nice"
Atleast I'd have a reason to believe
The world is a wonderful place to live!!

Equal Love

2005-06-07T14:40:00.000+05:30

I love equally

Both my hands.
The waters and the sands.
Seasons one and all.
People big and small.
The left and the right.
The dark and the bright.
Colours in the rainbow.
A friend and a foe.
Smiles and tears.
All my fears.
Failure and success.
Leisure and stress.
Every musical note.
Every step I strode.
All the fingers of my hand.
The spicy and the bland.
Every single emotion.
Placidity and tension.
The journey and the destination.
My home and my nation.
Every single breath.
Life and death.
MAYBE I DONT, BUT I WANT TO.

MY STORY...

2005-06-02T18:52:00.000+05:30

This is not an ordinary story. Simply because it's not about ordinary people. And it's not an ordinary tale of love and hurt, faith and deceit. It is my story, and it's a story about me. As a rule, everything besides me in this story is irrelevant, unimportant and trivial. And I'm taking this liberty to declare such because this place is "exclusively" my domain- perhaps the only place in this Universe where I own some kind of importance. Which further tempts me now to take "all" the importance there is, and to do unto the world what it has done to me all the time elsewhere. I, therefore, propose to reduce the sigificance of everything besides myself to zilch, the same way as everything and everyone reduced mine to a farce outside the realm of this story.
Ha! As u reap so u sow!!
This is what I call the "Law of Balance". Somehow, someday, everything evens out.

I was born once upon a time-someday at some place- but the details are not important. I had a family and a home, and I consider myself lucky for that. But me and my family always let each other down, and I never got a separate room for myself in that home-not until I got maried, but by that time I had moved to a rented flat, and even then I was forced to share it with an intruder. As a little kid, life was very unfair to me. Not that it remedied its behaviour in the subseqent years, but perhaps it hurt more as an infant.

As if born in a lower middle class family of seven or eight members was not enough, I had to contend with being caught between two brilliant elder brothers, and two talented younger sisters. We grew up together, but perhaps they grew up better, and faster. Fate was once again cruel to me- for I was but a very very ordinary child. My siblings though, were blessed with better brains and more talents than me. And I was nothing but the black horse of the family. I suspect that is the reason my parents loved them a lot, and hated me equally, for I was but a useless student, who barely struggled though his high school despite all the tuitions.

My eldest brother was an ace cricketer, and played for a long time for some high-level team. Once upon a time I had wanted to be like him. But soon everyone realised I was pathetic at the game, and then- then they laughed at me. I remember clearly the tears in the eyes of a nine-(or ten)year old surrounded by a crowd of mocking eyes and scolding tongues for a distasteful display. Later that night my brother had come to me and tried to console me. He asked me to practise with him the next morning; I threw a vase kept next to me at his face. He still retains a two-inch scar on his face.

I had my reasons for doing that, but at that time, nobody understood- my parents beat me black and blue and locked me in the store for two days without food- and now, I don't care to explain. This is my story and nothing else is important, not even those reasons.

At the age of 16, tired by my own failures and the successes of those around me, one day I stole some money from the home and ran away. Some fifteen-twenty days later the police caught me stealing food from a restaurant and handed me over to my family. My Dad beat me up like hell and my mom never spoke to me after that day-not till her death. My crime was too big; she was too upset that I had stolen and sold her favourite gold earings.

By then, I had already failed once at the matriculation examination and after this incident, I dropped school and foud work in a garage.

By nature, I was basically a loner. I never had any real friends to speak of, and I preferred being within myself most of the time. The three years at the garage were the happiest time of my life. But life can't tolerate being good with me for long. My Dad died of some disease, and mother had a paralytic attack. Not that I cared, but there was suddenly more responsibility on me ,which I hated, for my brothers were in another town pursuing their careers. They came one day, and forced me to learn up accounting work, and got me a petty job. I had no option but to do that, for I had no strength to oppose them. I hated myself then, and them.

Then, I don't know when I changed into an angry, irritable, discontented man. Some years later, when they saw me happier with my liquor and gambling, I was forcefully maried off to someone. I tried to be happy and nice after that, but couldn't. I tried to love her, but couldn't. Some years later, she ran off with my neighbour and left me a rowdy son. Why, I don't know and I don't care.

Even then, nobody sympathised with me. People at work laughed at my back, and since family did't exist for me, I was left alone. One day, drunken and inebriated, I broke my son's skull. The neighbours took him to the hospital, and me to the police station. When I returned after a month, I learnt he had been sent to an orphanage. Good riddance, I said.

I never heard of him after that, until some hours ago, when a young guy in his teens came to me and said that he was my son. I didn't reply, and he swiftly finished his job and left. And now, here I am, lying peacefully for the first time in my life in the middle of the road.
Dead or alive? That's not important.

Somehow, someday, everything evens out.

Jhilmil

2005-06-02T18:40:00.000+05:30

Jhilmil si ek ladki
Hawa ke sang-sang lehrati si
Kuch-kuch naraz zindagi se
Aur kuch-kuch zindagi pe muskurati si

Kinare ki lehron si uth-ti bikharti
Nav ke jaise dagmagati si
Andhere mein pani ke kinare kahin
Jugno-on ke sang jagmagati si

Khayalon mein khokar laton ko apni
Kabhi suljhati kabhi uljhati si
Nazakat se zulfon ko jhatak fir apni
Dheeme se palkein jhukati si

Chanchal si nazrein has padein jab achanak
Us hasi ko haya se fir chhupati si
Jo naraz ho to aankhen failakar
gusse se moonh fulati si

Kabhi lafz ke sahare choo leti dil ko
Kabhi nazron se hi dastanein sunati si
Kabhi mushkilon se na darne wali
Andhere mein masomiyat se ghabrati si

Jhilmil si woh ek ladki
Parde ke peechhe sharmati si
Ek pal ko nazar milake mujhse
Nazar ke sath dil bhi churati thi.

2005-05-30T18:42:00.000+05:30

kuch kuch samjha to hai tujhe zindagi, par ab tak tujhko jiya nahi
ye zeher ab tak bas chakh ke dekha hai, ab tak piya nahi
hatheli pe sajaya hai seene se nikal, par dil ab tak diya nahi
pyar ke ru-ba-ru to khadi hoon, par pyar ab tak kiya nahi

Maybe...

2005-05-30T18:19:00.000+05:30

If you give me back the control of my life
Maybe I'll stop caring for you
If you stop coming to my dreams each night
Maybe I'll stop thinking of you
If you remove the imprint of your name from my heartbeat
Maybe I'll stop praying for you
If you erase from my mind "our" memories sweet
Maybe I'll stop remembering you
If you cease being your nice and thoughtful self
Maybe I'll stop liking you
If you can make me breath once without yourself
Maybe Ill learn living without you
If you can separate yourself from my soul
Maybe I'll stop feeling you within
If you can make me deaf-totally, as a whole
Maybe I'll stop hearing only you in a din
If you can replace my passion with malice
Maybe i'll be able to hate you and your thought
If you can take away from me my life
Maybe I'll stop loving you, or maybe not.

The Birthday Gift

2005-05-20T15:25:00.000+05:30

“Whaat?? How can you be so mean, so unreasonable?” she yelled at him, shock and agony on her face.

He was still as indifferent as ever, as unresponsive. She was staring at him, and on the verge of freaking out completely. He opened his mouth as if to say something, and almost as if suddenly deciding otherwise, turned back to leave. She only managed to blink once in astonishment. He was gone!
She felt numb for thirty seconds, then suddenly came to life and shouted at the top of her voice “Hey wait! Listen. You can’t….”

She stopped midway. She knew he was already far away from the range of her sight and sound. Even if he weren’t, it wasn’t going to be much different. Her words were going to fall on deaf ears anyway. She knew this too well. She knew him too well.

Sigh…

Now this was what she called her daily dose of frustration. Only that this time it seemed like a double dose!

“Aaaaaaaawww Gaaaaawwwwwwwdddddddd”

She collapsed back on her bed, hands on her forehead, sandstorms beneath them.

How could he be so heartless?
Yes life was getting tough with him of late, but ups and downs are normal in relationships, right!
Maybe I should be more patient. Maybe this is temporary, maybe it’s due to stress…Oh whatever, but he should also understand na. Gaaaaaaaawwwwddd...not today!

Memories of five years ago rushed back to her. It was a month after their engagement. They had spent the entire day together, and had such a beautiful time together she almost cried at the memory. It was her best birthday till date. And today he didn’t even remember her birthday this morning!!!
She had waited initially, but was actually so confident of his memory that she herself reminded him before he left for work.

“Oh darling, so sorry…Happy birthday. Many many happy returns of the day. Tell me what do you want?”
“A quiet romantic evening here at home tonight. Just the two of us. I’ll make the preparations.”
“Ok…I’ll be home!”

He had promised her the evening. She had hoped everything would become all right after that. And now?

A Single tear rolled down her cheek.

Somehow, after 15 minutes, she picked herself up to get ready. He had said 7 o’clock and she knew he meant it. He loved these stupid business-meetings-cum-parties of his, and he liked being on time always. She dressed up and sat down waiting-waiting for him to come, waiting to get lost herself yet again in a milling crowd of pseudo-civilized men and ladies, where she swayed alone from one corner of the room to the other with an artificial smile pasted firmly on the face, trying occasionally to spot the collar of his suit from amongst the middle of a noisy group that included as many hardcore money-makers as party-hopping socialites.

She didn’t have to wait too long. He returned earlier than 7; apparently his appointment with the lawyer had taken him less than he had expected. He looked happy, and was even more pleased to see her ready already. They didn’t talk much then or in the car- he had almost forgotten her birthday and his promise, he had almost forgotten her. Sometime later she asked:
“Where are we going”?
“Maurya!”

Maurya? Hadn’t he said Taj at home…anyway how does that matter…

They reached Maurya in another ten minutes. As they entered the lobby, his phone rang.
“One second darling, I have an important call. Why don’t you go in? The party is in Hall 2. I’ll just join you!”

Reluctantly, she moved in, alone. As she reached Hall 2, she was surprised to find it completely dark and silent.

Did I hear him wrong? He said hall 2, didn’t he?

She was about to turn back, when suddenly the huge central chandelier in the hall brightened up, and a number of bright, jubilant faces simultaneously broke into the birthday song.

“Happy birthday to you….”

She gasped in surprise and happiness. Right in front of her, some twenty feet away, little ahead of the chandelier was the birthday cake-her birthday cake. To its left stood her mother, her brother and his wife. To the right was her best friend with her two-year-old daughter and her husband. The hall was full of friends, acquaintances and relatives. It was a full-fledged rocking party- her birthday party! She slowly moved a few paces ahead.

How unlike my husband to plan a surprise party! How sweet, how thoughtful!
But where is the mastermind?

She turned back. He was standing at the door. She smiled back at him affectionately. He gestured her to move ahead. She reached near the cake, right below the huge chandelier. Congratulations and greetings poured to her from all corners of the room. It was time to cut the cake and begin the party.

Why isn’t he here yet? We should cut the cake now.
Ohhh...it’s such a beautiful party. I love him so much.
Everything is going to be all right now. I love him.
Where is he but?

She turned back for the second time. He was standing at the door.

What’s he doing there now?

“Come up” she whispered as she waved to him. He was looking straight into her eye, but didn’t nudge, or respond. She noticed his right hand move slightly in his pocket. It looked like some sign, but she didn’t understand.

What?

Suddenly he broke into a wry smile- very wicked, very cruel, and very victorious. Bewildered, she continued to stare at him as the wicked smile developed into a sly grin.

Thunder, darkness, a scream, a fall, the end!!!!!!!!!!!!
The chandelier had fallen right on her. She died in the accident.

2005-05-20T03:24:00.000+05:30

“Na budape ki fikr na jawani ka guman hai
har khayal ek khwab har khwab bas dhuan hai
ek jam se doosre jam ke beech jiye ja rahe hain
bekhbar bemayana jiwan hai, madhoshi hi ashiyan hai
khud ka bojh utha nahi sakte, kandhe kamzor dil gamnama hai
kaun kehta hai , ae sakhi, hm is mulk ke naujawan hain
ae watanwaon, yoon apna kal in haathon mein mat saunpo
humein to ye bhi nahi maloom hamara apna kal kahan hai”

FINALLY, I'M IN LOVE!

2005-05-18T17:31:00.000+05:30

MUJHE MOHABBAT HO GAYI HAI...

Chaha to bahut is dil se chahat karwana
kai bar koshish bhi ki, par dil na mana
ishq ke naam se hi ishq karte the abtak
par ishq ka matlab aj pehli bar jana
khayalon ki ashiqui hi diwangi bahut thi
pehle se hi pagal kehta tha mujhe zamana
mujhe lagta tha mohabbat cheez mere bas ki nahi
kalpanaon ke sahare hi gate the dil ka tarana
kabhi zamane se darte tha, kabhi khud hi se khaufnama the
na jane kaisa woh dar tha-andekha, anjaana
par sach poochho to talash thi humko
us ek dil ki, jis se mumkin ho dil lagana
Woh chehra jo dekhte hi aankhon mein sama jaye
woh nazren jinhe dekhte hi rooh tak chahe unko pana
is kashish is kasak ko dhoondna bahut chaha
par ab tak kahin nahi mila tha ye khazana
Aj magar ek nazar se aisi takrayi nazar
ki ab mumkin hi nahi lagta us nazar ko bhula pana
aj us dil mein jhanka to laga
haan isi dil ke kisi kone mein mujhe hai samana
haan aj mujhe mohabbat ho gayi hai doston
aj maine jeene ka sahi matlab hai jana

WHO AM I?

2005-05-12T13:51:00.000+05:30

What is the real me?
The sweet obedient daughter?
Who tries to love & to respect,
To abide by every rule
And to satisfy every aspect
To upkeep the honour
Yet saving herself the regret
But ends up hurting anyway
Her parents, her family and herself
Am I a living being
Or just a doll on the shelf?

What is the real me?
A diligent student,
A professional-to-be
Trying to know and to learn
With utmost sincerity
Trying to score, trying to win
Trying to be the Prof's pet
Yet failing in doing all this all the time
Each time I fail myself
Am I a living being
Or just a doll on the shelf?

What is the real me?
A sheer pessimist
Who stands at the edge of the cliff
Hoping to slip, to die
To get rid of life's tiff
Yet it's still a "hope" only
A hope-an optimist's domain
What am I-a sadist, a masochist?
Searching for happiness in the midst of pain!
Still i don't die, and still i fail to live
I only survive, only for myself
Am I a living being
Or just a doll on the shelf?

What is the real me?
A cheerful friend
Trying to be happy, trying to care
Hoping to spread happiness and relief
Hoping to be there
Pretending to be sweet,
To be likeable at times
Yet realising my inadequacy
Among thoughtful tears on lonely nights
I try to be with all
And in the end am alone not even with the self
Am I a living being
Or just a doll on the shelf?

What is the real me?
Just another girl
Who loves and is loved
Who dreams of stars and moons
And her own beloved
Who wants a lot out of life
Yet refuses to give at all
Riding on clouds of illusion
One day, sure to fall
Still going on to dream
Satisfying her material self
Am I a living being
Or just a doll on the shelf?

What is the real me?
The reflection in the mirror
That looks so alien
What do i read in those eyes
Lies- a million
A daughter, a friend, or a lover
A student, a professional-in-being
But where is the real me
A simple human being...
I've become a chameleon of sorts
But somewhere I've lost the real myself
Am I a living being anymore
Or just a doll on the shelf?

(THE INSPIRATION FOR THIS POEM IS A FRIEND'S POST. TO READ CLICK THE TITLE OF THIS POEM)

Aaj mujhe rone do...

2005-05-12T13:03:00.000+05:30

Paana bahut kuch chahti hoon magar
Bas aaj khud ko kahin khone do
Karne ko baatein hain bahut magar
Bas aaj mujhe chup hone do
Jhinjhod diya hai zindagi ne aaj itna
Ye toofan shaant to hone do
Apne hi jiwan ki raahon mein kaante
Apne hi haathon fir bone do
Fir se bachpan jeena hai mujhko
Koi mere woh toote khilone do
Toote hue khwabon ko sametoon to kaise
Mujhe naye kuch swapan salone do
Pyar to khud se bahut kiya hai
Aj khud se nafrat bhi hone do
Insaan thi shayad, ye kya ban gayi
Kuch der iska ehsaas to hone do
Sapne dekhne hain fir se mujhe
Kuch der ke liye bas sone do
Jeena main bhi chahti hoon shayad
Aaj magar mujhe rone do...

EK KHAYAL

2005-05-05T18:00:00.000+05:30

Dheemi si zindagi chal rahi hoti hai
Thodi mushkil thodi aasan thodi karkash thodi madhur
Wahi roz ke kam wahi roz ki masti
Thodi si chinta aur thoda sa saroor
Kuch kshan aaram karne ko lekin agar
Main aankh band kar let jaaoon jo zara
Sainkdon khayal umad ate hain man mein
Kya kiya, kya kaha, kaun mila, kya pada
Kabhi kisi bat pe has padti hoon yakayak
Kabhi koi yad rula deti hai ekdum
Kabhi bas kho jati hoon kisi aur hi jag mein
Khud se hi baant leti hoon har khushi har gam
Achanak hi ruk jata hai kisson ka karwan
Aur kuch kshan ke liye sab kuch chup ho jata hai
Kya woh bhi sochta hoga mere bare mein yoon?
Har roz mere dil mein yehi khayal aata hai...

PLEASE DON'T READ THIS...

2005-05-05T11:59:00.000+05:30

(Hunted out this veeerrrrrrrrrrryyyyyyyyy olddddd poem from somewhere, wrote it in class 8 I guess, for a friend who had a huuuuuuuuugggge crush on a friend of mine, and u know what..it worked!;)

Am posting it just like that, old memories i guess...don't expect anything out of this!)

BEAUTIFUL EYES

Your beautiful eyes...that inspire awe,
that reflect your assurance of love and care.
That sparkle with innocence-so pure so flawless..
And promise me you will always be there!
There is something about them…
- That leaves me bewildered,
Enraptured; though in a maze-
Of questions unanswered…
Those perfect pearls-as gleaming as ice…
They keep me alive-your beautiful eyes

I CANNOT DIE!

2005-05-02T18:55:00.000+05:30

(An old poem, trash, but basically for all those who thing I can't write anything positive in my life!)

I cannot die, for I have loved
Life and its gifts, each rose and thorn
I cannot die, for I have lived
In the hearts of those whose friendship I adorn
I cannot die, for death is an end
But time doesn't end; I live with the time
I cannot die, for death is defeat
But I refuse to quit, so failure ain't mine
I cannot die, for my smiles will live
My words, my deeds will stay behind
I cannot die, for 'I' is just not this body
It is my soul, my heart, my mind
I cannot die, till the time
When my battle against fear is won
I cannot die, I'll only retire
From this world- when my job is done...

FAN MAIL!!!

2005-05-02T10:21:00.000+05:30

This is something unbelievable people..but I've received a letter from a friend(and a very regular reader of this blog) who terms it as fan mail...and wants me to post it here.

I guess I can do this much, for whatever he's written is extremely sweet believe me.

Please do not believe his superflous praises, he likes almost everyting i write :(((

But then he's a very nice person, and one of my blog's most frequent visitors. So I owe it to him to post the letter unedited. The only liberty I'm taking is holding back his name here,I hope you don't mind.

Thanx a lot dear. Hope not to disappoint you in future.

Bye

Envisager

Dear Envisager,
Poetry has never been something that i enjoyed. I had
never read any poetry apart from the crap that i was forced to read as
a part of my school curriculum. Yeah ... i was mostly pained by poems,
though i enjoyed a few of them. The only thing i liked about poems was
the rhyme ... and since i could never ever think of rhyming lines, i
have always looked up to poets as some kind of extra terrestrial beings
... who could conjure rhymes out of thin air, at will.
All this changed from about Feb ... when i first visited your
crazy home. Here i found a real life person who could write like the
persons whom i had always looked up to with awe. I enjoyed reading ... and
always came back for more ... and you never disappointed this fan of
yours. From spontaneous two liners to long stories ... you had a lot to
offer. Somehow i enjoyed your Hindi creations more than the English ones
... and i have always felt that you write poetry better than prose. So
my order of preference has been Hindi poetry > English poetry > English
prose.
Since i don't have a poetic bent of mind, i usually refrain from
criticizing poems written by others, since they are certainly better
than anything i could have ever imagined. I guess many others feel the
same. So my response to your works has been one of the following :
1. Outstanding ... this holds for a select few like Tanha, Mohabbat aur
Chahat, SHE, My Answer and girlfriend. These are poems that i have
enjoyed reading ... not only the first time, but over and over again ...
even months later.
2. Very good. Most would come in this category ... as your poems and
stories are usually very good. Examples would be Strangers, Oblivion,
Ruksat and Ye Nazrein.
3. Average. Very few would come in this category. I guess i never could
understand these. The only one i can recall that would come in this
category is Smitten.
Of course i am not a literary expert ... so don't take my criticisms
too seriously.
Your poems are something i look forward to everyday. Could i possibly
ask for anything more ?
Maybe if you could write something on other themes. Even HOPE has some
pretty depressing lines. You have yourself admitted that its easy to
write on the topic of love and tragedy. But i am sure your imagination is
not restricted to this domain.
Well ... i guess i have concatenated the jist of most of my comments so
far.
Expecting some very good poems in future,
A fascinated fan

Kya Woh Katre Chhalkenge Kabhi?

2005-05-02T09:30:00.000+05:30

(All right, this one is a lame attempt at a hindi translation of the previos "Droplet" poem, purely on public demand. But as a warning, please do not expect anything good-it's exam time!! And trust me, translation proved a more difficult job than writing for the first time!)

Kuch katre jeewan ke
Jeewan ke panjon se bachte-bachate
Dard se sani dastanon ko
Apne garbh mein chhupate-chhupate
Har katre ko bhigoye hai rakha
Ek un-sahe un-kahe ehsaas ne
Ek dukh ne jise ab kuch mehsoos hi nahi hota
Dard bhula diya dard ke nirantar aabhas ne
Kuch hai jo is dard ko ubharne nahi deta
Ek wajood tak ka haq nahi milta hai use
Shayad ek nischay hai jo jeewit hai ab tak
Shayad duniya ke riwazon ka lihaaz hai use
Aise hi bahut se bandhan, bahut si deewaron ke
Bawjood satah tak pahunche hain
Door se dekho to nainon ki chamak se lagte hain
Itne gehre andheron se jo guzre hain
Ab tak jeewan bacha hai jinme
Poochhna hai un jeewan ke katron se
Jo aankh ke ek kone main ghar kiye baithe hain
Kya chhalkenge kabhi woh nazron se?

WILL THE DROPLETS FALL?

2005-04-30T11:29:00.000+05:30

A few molecules of existence
Trying to cohese with their kind
Yet adhering to the alien for support
Life struggling to come to life
The few molecules of existence
Daughters of sorrow, sons of pain
The old, the fresh and the ancient
The obvious, the latent and the visibly faint
Held back by a spirit that isn't yet shattered
Just injured and wounded, indelibly deep
Held back against flooding the plateau beneath
And the valley of dimples with their agonising creep
A few still escape from the hidden depths
Of an anguished heart plunged in the dark
Knitted together by threads of hurt
Yet from a distance, just a dainty spark
At the corner of the eye, hiding themselves
For the sake of dignity and protocol
Beholding epics of pain untold
Wonder if the droplets will ever fall?

2005-04-30T11:22:00.000+05:30

Har baat pe gussa aana tha shayad

Fir bhi har baat pe pyar hi aaya

Jitna dard bada, utna hi zyada

Khud ko us dard se mohabbat mein paya

Woh jo khushi ki jhalak, mujhe dard dekar

Tere chehre pe thi ayi, usne har dard bhulaya

Aur ek aansu bhi baha tha, par woh mujhe chot dekar

Tere haath pe lagi kharoch pe tha aya!

Have I forgotten him?

2005-04-28T17:52:00.001+05:30

Haven't seen him for so many years
Haven't heard the voice I once loved
I'm not sure I want to either
No I don't
So does that mean I've forgotten him?

I'll lower my eyes if he ever comes in front
Pretending I never saw him at all
And wishing the same were true as well
That he were not there
So does that mean I've forgotten him?

All day i pray that i don't think of him
So it's him in my mind anyway
The farther I push him the closer he comes
Still I try
So does that mean I've forgotten him?

If I sat and thought of people and the world
He was the first one to come to my mind
If I thought of myself, there was no me without him
So I stopped thinking
So does that mean I've forgotten him?

Years have passed, seasons have changed
I've grown older, farther, wiser, stronger
I don't know where he is, how he is, if he is
And i don't want to
Doesn't that mean I've forgotten him?

I AM NO MORE...

2005-04-27T12:20:00.000+05:30

No more do i wonder anymore whether

The mirage far away is water or mere sand

No more do I care what anybody feels

No more do I want to understand

No more do I ponder over what to do

Whether knowledge or fun is more important

No more do I stare at the stars and dream

about tomorrow-for dreams are redundant

No more do I wonder for hours at a stretch

If it's love or lust or jus infatuation

No more do I wander aimlessly through night

Blissfully mindless, far from confusion

No more does anyting simulate my mind

No more do I seek any answer

No more do I find pleasing and entertaining

The notes of a singer, the moves of a dancer

No more am I able to think,

no more have I a desire

"I" does not exist anymore

The me in me has retired...

Mohabbat aur chahat

2005-04-26T16:51:00.000+05:30

mohabbat ki gehraiyon ko chhoone se pehle

dosti ki hadon ke par humko jaana hai

tumhe apne banane se pehle

khud ko tumhara banake dikhana hai

aarzoo nhai hai kuch paane ki tumse

aarzoo yehi hai ki khud ko tumpe lutana hai

mohabbat aur chahat ke beech ka antar

duniya ko ab sabit kar ke dikhana hai!!!

My answer

2005-04-25T12:18:00.000+05:30

He asked me, and I said yes.

Several hours have since passed, but I still continue to wonder what was more surprising about the whole thing: the fact that he asked, or the fact that he asked, or maybe the fact that I answered in affirmative, or else the fact that I answered in affirmative with such ease and confidence-almost as a reflex.

There was something powerful and assertive, yet warm and tender, in the directness of his question. The self-confidence of an honest man sparkled in his eyes. There was no trace of any guilt, doubt, confusion or fear on his face-just the calm of realism peppered with a touch of optimism. He radiated positive vibes of affection, understanding, courage and determination- a determination to make his dreams come true- something which i greatly admired him for, and I think that was the major reason I was drawn to him so immediately. I've always liked guys ho seem to be composed and relaxed in tough situations, who seem to be in control of themselves and their lives, confident that they can handle the future, who know what they want-and actively try to get it- to the maximum extent possible. I believe a lot of girls feel the same way.

Still I dunno if this much is reason enough to justify what I did. To have said yes to him at that moment defies all norms of logic and permissible-logic-breaching-deviations I normally set for myself.

O my reverred sanity, why did you desert me like that?

Huh!

Come to think of it, I hardly know this person, and still...

...but maybe, his reaction, the jubilation on his face was worth it. A spontaneous smile, a controlled elation and a river of warmth flowed out of him. We spent some really lovely and amicable moments after that, till we parted. Probably I didn't deserve it, for it wasn't completely based on honesty. But I think I owed it to him, or myself, or just somebody in this universe, to answer him such. I guess it's inexplicable.

He met me last week at the Ferozeshah Kotla stadium in Delhi during the 6th ODI, India v/s Pak. He was seated next to me, and had caught me cheering Afridi's awesome boundaries and Inzy's hits. He walked upto me at lunch, introduced himself, and asked if I was a Pakistani. I looked at him, there was something in his eyes, and I dunno why, I said yes.

Ant...

2005-04-20T11:31:00.000+05:30

Raste badalte rahe
Panne bhi palat-te rahe
Kitab khatm ho gayi
Kahani ab bhi adhoori hai
Chale bhi hum akele the
Aur aj bhi akele hain
Fark hai to bas itna
Ki aj khud se bhi kuch doori hai
Khwashihon ke aasman pe
Meri nirlaj zaban pe
Kai khwab janme aur toot gaye
Jeewan mein dukh bhi zaroori hai
Amavas sa ek hai theher gaya
Na jane kahan kho seher gaya
Andheron mein bhatak gaye hain is kadar
Ki aankhon mein suraj ab bhi sindoori hai
Baati mein tel khatm hone ko hai
Lau kahin andhere mein khone ko hai
In aakhri lamhon mein khayal aata hai yehi
Ki kya chirag tale ka andhera hi zindagi meri poori hai
Kitab to khatm ho gayi
Par kahani shayad ab bhi adhoori hai...

Akhri khwahish...

2005-04-20T10:37:00.000+05:30

Ghat gaya hai kad mom ka
Har daman ab chhotne ko hai
Ae khuda bas ek bar, dila de deedar-e-yar
Meri saanson ki dor tootne ko hai

2005-04-19T23:24:00.000+05:30

If nobody's perfect, I'm nobody!!

OLD FLAMES

2005-04-12T16:16:00.000+05:30

It's About Pain

It's not about what you say

But the way you say

It's about your voice

It's about the hatred in your eyes

It's about the attitude, the indifference

It's about the basic difference

Between what we were and what we are

It's about those moments sweet and this hour sour

It's about a relationship that was

It's about my biggest loss

It's about my faults, my mistakes, my sin

That made the emotions go to the dustbin

For reasons known,yet shrouded in mystery

We broke apart-away, alone, free

It's about a hope that we'll be together again

It's about a few tears, and lots of pain!

Hope

2005-04-07T13:31:00.000+05:30

Long time back, one of my friends was very upset over something...highly depressed I must say....and this is what he wrote to me in one of his mails while telling me his problems.

"Zakhm kuch aise hain phoolon par soya naa gaya
jism jala aur aankhon se roya tak na gaya"

Good lines, but very depressing...so this is what I had replied then to cheer him up a bit..

"Mano to phulon par sone se bhi chot lag jati hai..
na mano to kanton se bhi kuch nahi hota
jism ke jalne pe aansoon kya bahana
zindadil to woh hai jo rooh jalne pe bhi nahi rota..."

I dunno why I'm posting this here today, but some incident reminded me of hese lines, and I was just wondering how pain and depression is all a matter of perception and acknowledgement of pain.
I guess we really do choose what to make of our life, because the all imp. thing is only our attitude. If we learn to be optimistic, if we learn to let go, if we learn to take evrything that life offers in our stride..life would be so much better indeed.
I know it's easier said than done what I "preach", but then....if we are willing to try to be happy, that could be a start itself....Give it a thought.

OBLIVION

2005-04-06T16:13:00.000+05:30

He was a nobody. On every street, there walk scores of nameless, faceless people like him. He was one of those you meet everyday at a number of places and forget immediately thereafter. They're way too common, too similar to leave any noticeable impact on you whatsoever. The way they look, talk, behave-it's almost too standard; each face a slight variation of an assortment of a certain set of features. So it's understandably difficult for us to distinguish among them. They make the crowd, the "masses", the society. And he was just one of them.

A crowd, as such, has no name, no face and no character. Perhaps no soul either. They just exist, forever. The more heads in a mob, the more they signify nothing; the more arms you can count, lesser the actual strength they imply. What the crowd does have though, is a meek voice and a sleepy conscience, but all that is drowned beneath the humdrum of confusion and the clamour of arbritariness more often than not. Very occasionally, some of the voice manages to get heard above the noise, and that is when histories are rewritten. But that is very very rare....

At other times, what binds the crowd together is the one common underlying desire budding in every heart- the desire to be someone, someday. He, too, was a noone who wanted to be someone, like everyone else.

A side-hero even in his own stories, he was at best perhaps the perfect best man at the hero's wedding ceremony. There were many things he wanted, and many others still that he'd have liked to want, but just didn't. He had his share of successes and failures, apprehensions and fears, kindness and gratitude, disappointments, enthusiasm and selfishness in life. He was never a brilliant student, but did passable well always. He had his own ambitions in life, but they were controlled and measured, and almost ever-changing in nature. He found a lot of people good, influential, successful, talented, and he wanted to be like all of them. He tried a lot of times, and mostly failed. Yet he lived on...

I have always wondered why she loved him, and loved him with such passion...It just completely defies logic to me, though I must admit anything to do with love has the same effect on me. Still this one was a weird match, and wierder were the circumstances...She was a beautiful, intelligent, talented, popular girl-indeed there were many who'd have done anything to obtain her consent, but she was simply not interested.The most bewildering aspect of the whole thing was the way she hid her love so completely, from the whole world, from him, and maybe at times from herself too...The fact that I knew was merely because I as her best friend, had rather easy access to her diary, and well, accidents happen!!!

When I first confronted her, even then she denied the whole issue, and later on simply said that it was a mere infatuation-something even she was not sure of- and that it was probably over. But I knew more than anyone else that it was a passion that was growing stronger every second, an obsession that was slowly but surely gobbling up every inch of her existence..And a madness that was becoming more dangerous, more total, all the time!I asked her to atleast share her feelings with him, he had the right to know more than anything else...But not only did she refused me point blank, she also took a promise from me that I'll never bring up the issue, that we'll never discus this, and that I'll never tell anyone. Reluctantly, if only for her sake, I agreed, for the sake of our friendship.And life kept going on.

At times she found herself so drawn towards him she cried, at others she wanted to be near him, yet far. There were so many days when she was even irritated with the fact that he was so "human", so far removed from the superhero of her dreams...But in all this, it was only love that emerged stronger each time, and silence. I had given up on this issue when she maintained her silence even when he told her about another girl he had a mild crush on, and then started going around with her. The next week I left town, and was back yesterday after a complete year.

Almost the first thing I did was to call her, but since no one picked up the phone, I decided to drop by unannounced. There was nobody home, and a neighbour who knew me told me the shocking news about her being in coma since the last nine months, and some complication a few hours back that was worrying everyone...Stunned, I reached the hospital immediately. All her parents know is that she had been to a friend's wedding, and on her way back collapsed for unknown reasons. She had suffered a nervous breakdown! I immediately knew whose wedding it was...

And ever since yesterday I've been crying for her, as well as I'm so angry at her I can't tell you...The doctors say she's sinking...And somehow I think it's all because of me..I should never have listened to her, I should have broken the promise.

Where is he today, I don't know? For me he's long been disappeared into oblivion. And because of my foolishness of listening to her, today I stand to lose a friend and this world a true love-all to oblivion....

TANHA....

2005-04-05T15:07:00.000+05:30

Dekhiye to zindagi ki raahon mein
Har taraf ek bheed chalti hai
Sochiye to bheed mein chalta
har koi hai tanha...

Dekhiye to waqt ka sath dene ko
Kis tarah daud rahe hain sab
Dekhiye to age waqt hai aur peechhe
Sab daud rahe hain tanha...

Dekhiye to sab bandhe hain sang
Rishton ki nazuq doron se
Sochiye to bas kuch bandhan hain
Jinmein har ik phansa hai tanha...

Dekhiye to har taraf mere
Hai woh sab kuch jo maine paya hai
Sochiye to mera kya hai
duniya se to jana hai tanha...

PARCHHAIYAAN...

2005-03-28T16:10:00.000+05:30

Yoon to waqt ne badal diye hain rukh hawaon ke
Toofanonke thapedon mein toot chuke hain kai sapne
Dhool ki ek parat si jam gayi hai jazbaaton pe
Kitne paraye se lagne lage hain, jo kabhi the apne

Na hum kabhi ye samajh paye the, ki humsafar woh hue kaise
Na aj ye jante hain ki rahein kab kaise juda hui
Jante hain to hum bas itna, ki shayad woh roshni ek khwab hi thi
Woh mile bhi the andheron mein, chhod bhi gaye is se pehle ki subah hui

Jeewan bhale hi theher gaya, par waqt to daudta rehta hi hai
Ab to dhundli si bhi ho chuki hain, kai raatein kai baatein
Fir bhi yakayak, kai bar, kisi kone se ubhar aate hain woh
Aur fir ek bar bheeg jaati hain, hamari aankhein hamari raatein

Kai bar in badli si gair hawaon ke beech
Ek apni si hawa bhi chal padti hai
Aur lagat hai sab kuch mano kal hi ki bat ho
Yaadon se dhund jab jab chhatti hai

Os ki boondon se naazuk hain woh lamhe
Chhoone ko haath badaoon to gayab woh ho jati hain
Fir ek bar ek khali haath hum kheech lete hain wapis
Fir ek bar labon pe hamare siskiyan aa jati hain

Unki yaadein bhi bas ek bhram hain unki tarah
Kshan bhar ko jeewan mein aati hain, aur jeena bhula jati hain
Yoon to waqt ki hawaon ne badal diye hain rukh
Fir bhi ateet ki kuch parchhaiyan aankhon mein utar hi jati hain...

SHADOWS...............

2005-03-28T15:46:00.000+05:30

I've always been scared of shadows. No, not really of darkness. Darkness is a friend; it conceals everything you want it to-all the secrets, everything that's ugly, dirty and gory. And it does its job well too. Black has forever been the colour of the unknown, the colour of mysticism, the colour of evil (even though Rani Mukherjee insists on calling black the colour of knowledge!!).
And black is the colour of the shadows, I happily trample underfoot whenever they fall in front of me. But they do not vanish. From God-knows-where, but very soon they appear walking right beside me, threatening to swallow me any moment, and i can never run away from them. But the scariest are those that seem to grow on me all the time...creeping, slow but growing larger and stronger every second.
I dont know if they are really scared of light or not-everytime I try and run towards light to take refuge, they seem to follow me, and light can never kill them, even though they seem to diminish in stature somewhat- but I believe they definitely are scared of darkness, because they assimilate completely in it. That's why darkness is a friend-an enemy's enemy!

Some people say shadows are your best friend-they always walk beside you, never leave you alone. I'm confused on this one...I think darkness is a better friend. Shadows are darkness's children, evidence of darkness being alive and with us even when everything looks bright and happy. When the sun is out, we forget the darkness that has shared many of our woes, tears, curses, fears and secrets. We wanna leave it, forget it...but it never ever leaves us alone. It's existence is forever, reliable, constant, like pain. I love pain...

MORNING BLUES

2005-03-28T08:41:00.000+05:30

Every morning is a start they say...but start of what?
So many of our mornings are nothing except start of yet another couple of hours lost in the race against time , the struggle against the tempting bed or in the haste of preparing for the coming day..another bead in the string of monotony, samenesss, routine. Just a bead mind you, not a start. Routines do not start, or end...the chain of montony is endless.

Occasionally time and destiny act as the blacksmiths and break a link or two, or join the existing chain with a new one, of a new routine, with a few fresh links, such that one routine breaks into another.

The predictability about the whole thing almost stinks. I want challenging starts to my days, and satisfied ends when I go to bed. I want killing suspenses, uncertainties galore, highs, lows, depressions, bouts of laughter, anything...something! I want to wake up this morning half believing it is my last, and sleep each night surprised with myself for making it to another night. I don't want to live a life so set that I always know what's most likely next...O cmon, not ALWAYS should I know everything.
It automatically creates expectations. I hate expectations.
So I imagine a situation where I can NEVER expect anything , even if I try, because all the time I'm expecting almost anything to happen.;)

Do I sound mad, sadist, masochist? Maybe, I am..So what!!:D
Hey BTW, Good Morning.....

I PROD MY WAY...

2005-03-26T15:51:00.000+05:30

(ABSURD POETRY)

Sometimes i lie on my couch
With eyes shut and mind open
And a mood vacant or pensive
Revengeful or defensive

Beneath the shutters of my eyelids
I seek light in the darkness
A solution, or a problem I'm keen to detect
so I sit and reflect

With shut eyes I see all that's concealed
From me, with light falling on the pupil
I concentrate; one deep breath or two
Is all i need to do

Each time I realise the power of within
How the solution is obvious if we introspect
All myths, doubts, mysteries, lie within thyself
I can be happy, alone, myself

I love to question, everything, all the time
I even question why i'm so curious
Still, the questions I'd love asking my own mind
I could never find

They exist-but formless, wordless, shapeless
They just hit the walls of my mind with restitution
at the speed of light, so blink and you miss them
I always miss them

So I concentrate harder and stronger
To figure out the trivial within the plethora
The all-pervading storms set ires ablaze
And I prod my way in the maze

******

Exam Notes!!!:P

2005-03-21T19:28:00.001+05:30

Aashiqui mein teri is kadar deewane hue jaa rahe hain
Har saans se pehle sau sau baar tera naam liye jaa rahe hain
ek din meri awaaz tere dil tak bhi pahunchegi
bas isi umeed mein ab hum jiye jaa rahe hain, jiya jaa rahe hain...

KYA KOI SUNEGA???

2005-03-14T15:42:00.000+05:30

*****Some days back I spent a lot of time browsing through lots of stuff on the condition of women the world over, women atrocities and stuff like that...The research brought to my knowledge some atrocious incidents, gory pics, and many painful stories...Work kept me too busy then to be able to reflect, but after it was all over...I guess some of that pain had left a few burning thoughts in my mind, and when I put pen to paper...these words just came out..i'm not sure if they make too much sense...and ya, it may sound different and wierd coming from me, but then this blog is supposed to be a little bit of everything right ;)
So tell me Ted, if u expected this from me...and Raja, this one doesnt rhyme :P **********

Sargam ke bahaav se door
Mehekte hue har khwab se door
Jeewit har ehsaas se door
Mrityu ke prabhav se door
Har subah har saanjh se door
Roshni ke failaav se door
Asha ke ehsaas se door
Kshitij ke jhukaav se door

Vasna ki gehraiyon se
Dard ki parchhaiyon se
Sannate ke shor ko cheerti
Andhere ke garbh ko gherti
Atma ko sparsh karne wali
Bhayavah ko adarsh samajhne wali
Dehshat mein lipti ek aahat
Rooh ko bhedti ek sansanahat

Aisi ek cheekh nikalti hai be-awaz
Par kya koi sunega?

RUKSAT

2005-03-14T12:16:00.000+05:30

yadon ke motiyon ko piroye rakha hai...
sapnon ko nazaakat se sanjoye rakha hai

daudte waqt ke kadam rok to nahi sakti magar
uski rahon ko in aansuon se bhigoye rakha hai

muthi mein in yadon ko band kar lena chahti hoon main
do unglion mein ek sagar, sama lena chahti hoon main

chahton ke is umadte sagar ko ab tak to bandhe rakha hai
sisakti saanson ke shor ko hansi mein dabaye rakha hai

kehne ko to baatein bahut hain magar, alvida kehne ko shabd nahi
shabdon ki shayad zaroorat bhi nahin, ehsaason ko ashkon mein duboye rakha hai

daudte waqt ke kadam rok to nahi sakti magar
uski rahon ko in aansuon se bhigoye rakha hai

An article i once wrote...

2005-03-08T13:03:00.000+05:30

SMITTEN….

I've always managed to hear his voice above the din. The antenna of my ears are like almost forever tuned to him, to the faintest of his whispers that manage to stir my soul each time in spite of the scores of deafening noises fighting to be heard above one another, drowning everything else into a humdrum. Yet his groans have never failed to convey his presence to me. His chuckles, his whistles, the bells on his key ring that go tinkling on their free Merry-Go-round ride each time he swirls the ring on his fingers, the pop with which his lighter comes alive to announce the demise of yet another Classic that I’ve always hated to see on his lips behind the veil of smoke-I've never missed hearing any of these characteristic sounds of his that tell me...he's around!

I've always heard everything he's said, and remembered most of it. His words always ring in my ears loud and clear except... except for a couple of them. Those were the couple he shot at me this evening at Nescafe. He'd parked his bike and was walking straight towards me, looking right into my eyes even as I was, well, staring at him. I could hear his footsteps clearly even though he was walking on mud; I could even hear the clinking of the zippers on the pocket of his jacket that collided frequently as he walked. The incessant chatting about me had stopped, the birds had quitted chirping-everything was silent, still, and I was numb...

He said something. I saw his lips move (rather i was staring at them) but i didn’t hear anything. His lips motioned again. I waited for the sound waves generated to reach my ears and the perturbations to inform me what he was trying to say, but nothing happened. I waited, forever it seemed, until I felt a gentle shove on my right shoulder as he stepped aside and moved past me taking a detour .I stood like that for some more seconds, when the world came alive again. He was ten steps past me by now, loudly chatting with his friends. People all around me were talking, laughing, exchanging HIFI's as usual-some I thought stealing meaningful glances at me, while the man at the counter yelled “Maggi!!!” in his usual nonchalant tone. I heard him comment, “Arrey chhod yar, IIT mein absent-minded jantuon ki kami kahan hai!” as I left the place and dragged my heavy footsteps towards the RR. My friend feels I’m completely smitten with him, and a big fool because he probably doesn’t even know I exist. I don’t think so. Or maybe she’s right….

achha poetry time

2005-03-08T12:23:00.000+05:30

An Orkut sponti:

Yoon naraz ho kar na jana yahan se,
yahan qayamat aa jayegi
tumahri to bas ek ada hogi
jaan to hamari jayegi!!!

One more...

Aur kuch der khafa rahe jo tum hamse
sach mano hum zindagi se khafa ho jayenge
jo na mane abhi to fir kabhi na bulana
kyonki maut ko manakar to hum wapis bhi na aa payenge

ek aur, one of my absolute favourites..

palkein jo jhukali apne nazrein meri bhi jhuk gayi
jis dhadkan ko saheja tha barson, woh ek pal mein kaise ruk gayi
ye kaisa khumar chhaya hai, ye kaisi nayi hai fiza
ki zindagi se milte hi zindagi ki raftar ruk gayi!!!!

I simply adore this one............

ro-o kuch is tarah ki ashk na bahe
saho kuch is tarah ki koi gam na kahe
labon pe aah, aur aankh mein aansu
roko kuch is tarah ki koi sitam na kahe!

SHE

2005-03-08T12:03:00.000+05:30

and another one...

SHE...

There is more to her than meets the eye
She's deep as an ocean, vast as the sky
She says so much, yet says nothing
For it's a mysterious life, what she's leading
There are tears beneath her smiles
That could fill many a Niles
Yet all you notice is her lovely laughter
That infects you too, slowly or faster
She fills your life with smile and hope
And one day, you leave her and go
Taking along memories, some happy some sad
Of a stranger, who had once, made your heart glad
But strangers are to be met and forgotten
So soon you'll forget how close you had gotten
How easy it had been to talk your heart to her
How convenient, how soothing, like the touch of fur
You had wished she'd be there forever
To help, to console, to support your every endeavour
But then, when life was smooth, the wish, and the need, died away
Now she wasn't noticed, though she was there anyway
Actually she didn't even complain, so obviously she didn't feel bad
And slowly, u forgot her, like a passing fad
She was a stranger, who knew me, is all you'll say
While in her heart, unknowingly, you'll always stay
She'll still have those smiles, that hope on her face
Of course the tears would've increased, but that's beneath the surface
Sometimes you'd hate her, or discover how bad she is
How the care for you she shows off, is actually so intrusive
How mean and selfish she is, how much of a pretender
A liar, a flirt, a cheater, to hell you want to send her
How she talked to your enemy as nicely as you
How once she wasn't there, to listen to you
When you wanted her to, but of course she didn't know
When she should have known herself, what u wanted her to do?
So you'd either grow out her need, or hate her enough to forget
In the end another heartbreak, is all she ever gets
But that's ok, that's fine, that's also what she deserves
And coz she's lived so much, she must have steel nerves
There's nothing she ever said, or ever wanted to say
She's just to be met, liked, then hated and driven away!

ME..

2005-03-08T11:54:00.000+05:30

a very old poem, abt me...was on my blog once...but had deleted evrtyhin then...someone asked me to put it, so i am repostin it:P

ME?????

The world calls me weird
I call the world mad
I'm not just weird, I'm the weirdest
But so what,is that bad????
People often ask me that
Why am I the way I am?
"as if I know!!!",why, I bet
even He wont understand
He has made me so different
So extreme, such a psycho!
And u know why He sent me to earth
Coz what had become of me,
even He didn't know!!!!
Sometimes I'm such a kid
Really silly, really stupid
Otherwise I'm everyone's mom
One thing's sure,my life aint insipid!
It's understandably hard to fathom
My unpredictable mood swings
I move like a pendulum, hyperactive to depressed
It's just one of those reason-less things!
I speak too much, and mostly nonsense
I keep getting one of those psycho fits
I'm funny, I'm incredible, I'm foolish, I'm bugging
But basically- I'm such an antique!
But I am the way I am
Good or bad-I cannot help it!
People may call me Nautanki or Psycho
But so what??? C'mon I like it!!!

Today's Psychology lesson

2005-03-03T13:20:00.000+05:30

This is how I put it:

"Every Human being is like all other human beings, like some other human beings, and also like no other human being!"

Ye Nazrein!

2005-03-01T12:20:00.000+05:30

Pehle bas char lines likhi thi, kal socha poori kar doon....kisi ne mangi thi mujhse, uski zaroorat thi, mera shauk....likh diya fir kuch...hopefully uska kam ho jayega:)

YE NAZREIN!!!

kabhi umeed se chamak uthti hain
kabhi haya se jhuk jati hain
ya to tumhari yaadon mein khoyi rehti hain
ya fir tumhari nazron mein kho jaati hain

kabhi to dhhondti hain tumhi ko har jagah
fir bhi tumse milte hi khud ko tumse churati hain
kabhi dard ke mare karah uthti hain
aur kabhi to khushi mein bi chhalak jati hain

palkon se dhak loon to sapne ate hain tere
palken uthaloon tab bhi tujhpe hi atak jati hain
teri mohabbat ka gharaunda ban gayi hain
jagte sote bas tera hi chehra dikhati hain

kabhi bhavna ka mahal, kabhi ishq ki gazal
kabhi gusse ka jhoota parda ban jati hain
kaisi gustakh hain, ki ibadat bhi teri karti hain
aur kabhi kabhi tujhe pana bhi chahti hain!!!!

*****

The Forbidden Truth

2005-02-25T13:33:00.000+05:30

This is what i mean when i say a little bit of "everything"...this one's a story..i needed to write one, but was really pressed for time..So in half an hour, this is what I wrote..I know it could have been better, but:(...still nevertheless, I'm expecting plenty of criticism:D

THE FORBIDDEN TRUTH!!!

It's hard to ever define a moment like that with words. No sequence of alphabets,no chronology of syllables could ever be good enough to breathe life into the innocence of that moment. It was so saturated with joy,rather ecstasy, that there was no room for any trace of doubt,apprehension or malice in it. It was born the way millions of moments are born,but it was one of those that refused to die,ever.Like a diamond,it was forever. It could survive till eternity on the sheer strength of the way it eliminated an inherent weakness. His weakness,and probably hers too.

But it won't be fair to call her weak,because it was from her inner strength itself that the moment had derived its astonishing strength,its enrapturing passion,its miracle!She had a rejuvenating spirit..full of optimism and belief,full of life...just that she let only the roses be visible, only the fragrance be tangible, only the harmony of the beauty be audible and only the golden letters that read "HOPE" be legible. Behind the curtains probably was hidden a plethora of thorns, mountains of despair, tonnes of anxiety, agonies of defeat, piles of frustration, bouts of revenge and an iota of malice...in short everything else needed to call her a complete "human". But what the hell,no one knew all that!

Sometimes, the trivial is of the utmost importance. Therefore, probably the most significant part of that moment was not the smiles that abound everywhere, but the tiny semblance of a tear at the corner of his eye. The mini droplet, that never grew further on his dry eyes, and was perhaps perceivable also for only a fraction of a second, but nevertheless defined the bliss it had provided to his soul.

For the first time he felt complete, secure, independent, alive. For the first time, he smiled without a reason, or an inhibition. For the first time, he felt there was some meaning to his existence. For the first time he imagined he could see a ray of light, and hope, piercing throughout the gloom of his life. For someone who had never known what light meant, for someone who had never experienced the privilege of sight, though probably understood what a great gift to mankind it was better than most others, it was a big achievement. All thanks to her...

He was blind, and crippled-his right leg was unnaturally shorter than the left- since birth, and therefore, an unwanted liability to his family, who probably didn't even remember this rotten branch of there family tree now. He had been living at this blind school for 10 years now, or maybe 12. In any case, it didn't matter to him, for he had no sense of time, and no meaning of living. He had never quite gotten over the shock element of the knowledge that those who had given birth to him had abandoned him so totally when he was just an infant. What was his fault? And why did he exist? He had never been able to repair those scars on his existence, that had marred his innocent soul years ago....

..until that moment, when she gently held his hand, and just said this much to him-"God gives the toughest examinations to his dearest children, but along with that, he also gives them secret powers which enable you to pass them all with flying colors. All you have to do is to believe u can, and smile. If you can generate the will inside you to fight, to live on- come what may, suddenly living will become easier, and pleasant, for then He'll hold your hand and guide you along!!!"

As she spoke, a number of things happened simultaneously. He broke into a spontaneous smile, every wound of his past now seemed so trivial to him, his deficiencies such a small hindrance, for the first time a "surmountable" challenge...A hope was born, that one day he'll be able to win over god if he could face every challenge He threw up to him. A will, a zeal, a desire, and lots of joy-they all appeared from nowhere in that one moment. All thanks to her...
Many NGOs and social workers had come to their school, but he knew she was the only one he wanted to listen to. Immediately, he stood up, and asked her to pass on his tools. He knew now he'd learn, he'd work, he'd give a meaning to his life, and he'll do all this in a way better than anyone else. And this time God will help him. Not any more would he refuse the few opportunities life presented to him to better itself. He knew this was his chance, and he was ready to grab it.

She reached for the tools, and extended them towards him. Suddenly, there was a painful cry...Blood gushed out within seconds, and very soon, he was dead!!!!

***********************************************************

Next morning, The Times of India reported:

BLIND SCHOOL STUDENT KILLS CLASSMATE, COMMITS SUICIDE

24th Feb, New Delhi

TOI correspondent

A shocking incident here at the "Mishra Blind School" near Connaught Place has left the authorities in a tizzy. Yesterday at around 2 pm, a blind girl stabbed one of her classmates in the institute workshop and committed suicide soon after. Being lunchtime, very few people were present at the site, and the reasons for the tragedy are yet unknown, though investigations are on. the girl had recently been shifted from the Chandigarh branch of the school where she'd been living for the last two years, following the death of her family and her own blinding in a tragic accident. according to the manager, she was an amicable person with a good record, but it's possible she lost her mental balance, or it could have been an accident. The victim, was a difficult guy, often depressed, and here for around 12.5 years now. the two had never been seen together before. Still the police are not ruling out any possibility. A romantic tangle between the two is also being investigated. as of now, the twin death remains a mystery.

Love and..er...logic?

2005-02-23T18:37:00.000+05:30

One interesting question I myself have very confused thoughts on..so i thought i'll write it down..maybe that'll get some coherence in....

I was wondering if love and logic(as in reasoning, or rationality, call it what u like) can co-exist? Are they related?Can they be related?
Is love actually blind?
With no room for thinking, reasoning, and planning...of the kind that we do for other serious issues like career, and life?
We all want to have control over our life...as i said in the previous post...
We all wanna be sure we are doing the right kind of things, making the right decisions,especially those decisions that we know influence our life in a big way, and love is one of them...
But very often we don't ourselves see any role of the mind in matters of love...it's heart's domain..the land of whims and fancies..the zone where logic has no say.It's rollercoaster of bliss and misery alternating, arbritarily...and those in love seem to enjoy this very thing...
People in love claim that there r no rules, no planning, no definitions and no laws in love...
I dunno..is it really true? practically... No experience:P..but would like to know....
At least a stable relationship cannot be based on just whims, or complete lack of logic...I cannot conceive it this way..but i may be wrong...
A crush maybe blind (ok ok only the eyes workin..er, staring...well, and mouth drooling, but the mind is numb):D...infatuations may also be illogical, impractical, and baseless...
But when you talk of love, I expect it's something else..We might need to consider past, present, and future in love..sanely...We might even sometimes need to "analyze" if we really love the one we "feel" we do, or that maybe it's time to say "goodbye" to a relationship....
There must be some room for logic in love.............

OR MAYBE I AM TOTALLY WRONG....
...even when i write this post....
...why am i trying to xplain anything to do with love with logic...
...maybe it's meant to be that way...
...maybe being so unconnected with logic is wat makes love so beautiful...
...maybe, one should listen to the heart at times...and do mistakes, and learn from them...and laugh and cry, and do mistakes again....
...maybe THAT's life!!

..sigh...still confused............:(

Just Wondering...

2005-02-22T17:28:00.000+05:30

Some random thoughts...

somehow, it just occured to me that one of the most desired things by all of us is control over our lives...we all scramble for control, all the time:control over nature, life, work, other people, u name it....
But more than anything we all want to control our own lives...so that nothing goes wrong with it, at least not unexpectedly...
Many times we encounter situations when we want to do something, but know that we can't, or shouldn't...like if u have a bad throat and the weather is cold, but u still feel like having an icecream..knowing fully well u'll pobably end up in bed with a fever the next day!Or when u have an exam and u know u've a lot of mugging to do,still u;re tempted to wile away time, sleep, or catch a movie....
Those are the situations, u end up scolding urself mostly... the mind wars urself...and regardless of who wins, or what the consequences are...in the end u always wish u had more control on ur life...that whimsical impulsive actions tha u need to regret later never happened...

Then again, my crazy mind asks me that maybe these whimsical moments are the ones that define life...that make living the joy and the fun it is..and that without them living would be like a jail....a punishment...!!!

Oops..here i go again..wish i were more decisive than this!:P

this time the philosophy class...

2005-02-17T13:31:00.000+05:30

though these are a little boring...
(philosophy lecture is faaaaaaaaaaaaar more interestin than inorganic;) )

kabhi umeed se chamak uthti hain
kabhi haya se jhuk jati hain
ya to tumhari yaadon mein khoyi rehti hain
ya fir tumhari nazron mein kho jaati hain!

Door hokar bhi itne paas ho
Sach ho ya koi ehsaas ho
agar sach mein kareeb ho to zara kaan paas lana
main tumko bataaoon tum kitne khaas ho....

My Creative classroom....

2005-02-16T11:42:00.000+05:30

While others make themselves go crazy with some stupid science and maths, my creativity overflows ;)....
This is a product of an Inorganic lecture...:D

Yoon na milo karo tum humse kuch lamhon ke liye...
lamhen to beet jate hain, hum theher jate hain
Tum to aate ho, muskurate ho, chale jate ho
Aur hum kai ghanto tak fir khud ko talashte reh jate hain
kai bar lagta hai woh lamhe palak jhapakte hi beet gaye
Aur kai bar khud ko bas unhi lamhon mein jeeta pate hain
Aisa kya kiya that tumne, ki mujhko mujhise chura gaye
Hum to fir kai lamhon tak yahi sochte reh jate hain......!

timepass....

2005-02-16T11:39:00.000+05:30

Have You Ever Wondered.........

Why does the sun lighten our hair, but darken our skin?
Why can't women put on mascara with their mouths closed?
Why is it that doctors call what they do "practice"?
Why is the man who invests all your money called a broker?
When dog food is new and improved tasting, who tests it?
Why are they called apartments when they are all stuck together?
If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of progress?

lol.......................

The face of death!

2005-02-14T23:31:00.000+05:30

Something I wrote..comments welcome...

THE FACE OF DEATH

Why, do you think, is "death" such a sinister word? Why is the word itself thought of as something evil, taboo, scary, unlucky, a bad omen? Death, essentially, means and signifies an end- an end of a life, of a thought, of an emotion, of an idea, of a belief, of a hope, of a tradition, of anything that had once been 'born'. This brings us to the more crucial question of the necessity of “death” and “birth”. Birth means a fresh arrival, of a new life, a new thought, emotion, or idea- almost always a moment of joy and celebration, and is important for any civilization to exist. All things, good or bad, must and do come to an end. Change is an unchangeable law of nature; the only constant factor about our world is change. Which means it's imperative that the old be continuously replaced by the new, the stale by the fresh, and the redundant by the useful. Whatever has outlived its utility ought to be discarded and replaced by a better, fresher, more versatile, improved version! Time does not freeze, and unless and until that happens the existing shall continue to decay, creating a void all the time that must be filled by a new generation. Darwin's law of "Survival of the fittest" does more than just look good in evolution textbooks. It applies everywhere, not just to the life and death of an individual organism, but to every realm of our lives and infact everything that can ever be said to have taken birth, including love and emotions! Thus it follows logically that for there to be an influx, there has to be some amount of constant outflow. Which brings me back to my foremost question-given that birth is essential, it implies that death is as much, if not more, essential too. Then why still is death considered scary, undesirable and gloomy? Why does no one want to see the face of death, and hardly anyone knows what it looks like? Lets try and face the answers with some examples.

A dynamic mind might have produced an extremely brilliant idea today, but sooner or later the idea will die- in the sense that it'll inevitably cease to be as brilliant, as applicable, as useful and as feasible as now, with the changing times. Henry Ford's black cars might have made him a millionaire in the era they were introduced by him, but if someone used exactly the same concepts today, his business will fail badly. What’s not inevitable though, is the death of the mind where it was born, although unfortunately it is highly likely. It’s entirely possible and plausible to continuously rethink and innovate an existing enterprise so as to keep it 'alive', but very often the glory of a local success gives birth to stillness in the mind, a reluctance to innovate further, as an example of which is the fact that the Ford cars are no longer the market leaders. It is clear then, that if any one out of the reluctance and the dynamism manage to survive, the other must die. And now, it's not hard to see whose death would we rather mourn, and whose death is, weird though it may sound to be used as an adjective for death, is rather a cause of celebration!!!

To probe further, consider this question: What is the reason that a lot of people today, especially the youth are highly probable to grumble and frown at the very mention of the word "tradition"? You and I are highly likely to talk of traditions and rituals as illogical, irrational, ancient shackles that try to bind us. A little lateral thinking though, brings to light a rather startling fact that we the youth, the so-called rational, modern and contemporary also follow and create innumerable traditions of our own without even realizing. Not only that, as a matter of fact our parents and grandparents have done the same, and so shall our children and grandchildren. The only thing that's changed is that maybe for our grandparents celebrating a particular festival with elaborate outfits, sweets and meals was glamour and the wife's waiting for her husband over dinner was romantic, contemporary and happening! To many of us this may sound a bit as impractical, show-off, uselessness and humbug. While at the same time, we also blindly follow various contemporary, happening, romantic traditions of our times like gifting roses and chocolates on Valentines' Day! Style and glamour today might mean gelled hair, beer mugs and discotheque floors to a lot of people, and maybe 20 years down the line, it would mean shaved head with erotic tattoos on them and jackets that opened backwards to the quintessential youngster. Sounds absurd? Well, ask an average sexagenarian what he feels of your hair gels and your favourite leather jacket! For centuries, every generation has dismissed its preceding ones as narrow-minded, rigid, orthodox and shortsighted, and the future ones as immature, stupid, valueless and naive! You may call this "generation gap"...

...I call it the fear of death- the fear of accepting the death of the present, the fear of facing the inevitable long-drawn conclusion of anything and everything that exists today, that we feel we own, belong to, and love, including ourselves, which is the fact that one day it'll become irrelevant, outdated, unimportant and superfluous! Being broad-minded is often misinterpreted as just having liberal views, more correctly it's a willingness to accept diversity and change from the past to present to the unseen future, with a continuous application of though and foresight, and a consistent endeavour for the overall betterment of the society. Traditions are loathed when they're imposed, and the fact that they need to be imposed means that they're not relevantly and comfortably acceptable by the subject, in their current form. Now every contemporary 'tradition' sounds perfectly reasonable and convenient. But the moment the society satisfies itself with this status analysis, that's when it starts becoming otherwise, that's when it becomes a rule and is passed on like that. What dies is critical thinking and flexibility, and what's now born is stagnation in the society, which worsens further until the day someone dares to think fresh and that's when the struggle begins. For the fresh to come in, the old has to die but the propagators of the old who cannot battle their own fears and inflexibility, start battling the new. Such struggles have been known for centuries, but the way I look at it, it’s a battle fought because of a fear for survival, for the sake of the survival of that very fear!

In simpler words, the concept of death itself is simply a fear- a fear of the unknown. We have the tendency to attach ourselves to the present because the definite (as-perceived, though not necessarily correct) knowledge of ourselves and our world around gives us a strange sense of security and comfort, and accordingly, we adjust ourselves to the point of maximum convenience. What also sets in along is inertia, a resistance from within us towards any kind of change. This resistance primarily stems from a fear with regards to change and its impact on the way we know life to be, a fear rooted in our own lack of faith in our own capabilities to be able to adjust to the change and its impact, because somewhere within, we’ve allowed our thoughtfulness to wither, our agility to die and our adaptability to diminish- all the ingredients of what I call “the spirit of living”. What we forget is we’ve done all that before, so we may or may not, but certainly we can! The change in any case is as inevitable as the flow of time and eventually when it comes, it’ll solely depend on whether we’re able to rekindle the spirit within us and live once again, or not.

Thus is reality, we die the day we let this fear of tomorrow kill our spirit of living, and resign ourselves to its mercy which, ridiculously but quite truly, is the prime reason why people attach a fear to death and call it gloomy, evil and unlucky. When people mourn another death, it’s not just because of the grief of losing a loved one, but also partly because it reminds them of their own inevitable end. The inescapable fact, my dear friend, is that life goes on, as certainly as the fact that one day it’ll come to an end like all things, good and bad. Death is not to be feared; only the fear of death is. Because unless someone challenged an old brilliant idea with a fresh thought, a newer one will never be born. Unless old traditions died and newer established, the society would stagnate and eventually disintegrate. Unless old emotions died to give way to new ones, the words love, care, sorrow, despair and hope, the word ‘life’-they’ll all lose their meanings. Unless people died, there’ll be no place to accommodate the offspring and the world will be a haven of disease and decay. Unless I died, my life won’t acquire its true complete meaning. So I do not fear death, just the fear of death which if born inside me might prevent me from living completely all the moments of my ‘life’ in its truest spirit until the very moment when my senses gave way. Face your fears, and the face of death shall no longer scare!

“I fear not tomorrow,
for I have seen yesterday
and I love today…"

Enough...

2005-02-14T11:29:00.000+05:30

Enough sulking.cant do this to my life...nw on i'll post somethin interesting again...

And hopefully not come to a situation where i just delete everythin!!!

2005-01-31T12:12:00.000+05:30

why am i the way i am ?

i hav asked myself this question millions of times, and never got ananswer...why am i the way i am..why do i say things i shouldn't...whycant i just keep my mouth shut(and hands folded, in case I'mtyping)...sometimes, it's almost as if there is no control on yourself, or theurge to let it out becomes so strong that all dams break...is itright? i dont think so...and that's only part of the problem....this mind is such a complexmatrix....there are billions of things, views and counter-views,opinions and counter-opinions, obligations, desires, expectations,fears, so much that i cant even write....Sometimes you know what the correct thing is, you really do know it,but still you do exactly the opposite...God knows what fun we deriveout of commit a mistake knowingly, knowing that it may hurt someone,and knowing fully well that more than anyone it's gonna hurt US...thatwe will regret it later...It's like a sensible part of you thatstelling you continuosly NOT to do what another part of you pushes youto continue doing...It's such a paradox....Indeed nothing in life is stranger than life itself...Sometimes, we conveniently forget the truth, or fool ourselves intobelieving that it's not...when we know that the person in front of me is able to understandevery hidden motive behind what I am doing, why do i still keep ondoing it, imagining that i shall be still able to fulfill mymotive....what's the logicbut i still do itcan someone tell me why????????????

i'M SO STUPID, SO PATHETIC, SUCH A FOOL...BUT STILL I DO NOTHING ABOUT IT...WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?????????????WHY AM I THE WAY I AM?

me...

2005-01-26T18:48:00.000+05:30

i thought my life was in many ways a litle bit of everything...but i realised i have nothing...nothing left at all...and therefore this blog must go...

from now on it's a little bit of everything, and a whole lot of emptiness.........

There's absolutely nothing left...nothing at all