Friday, August 9, 2013

Have I been fooling around or am I being fooled?
Or it is all unreal…
Is it not happening at all?
Or it is all happening at the same time
If I look at it…it does the same to me
If I forget it…it does the same to me
At times it feels to lag behind
At times it feels not to let go by
It may not be as I see it from your point of view

If it has to be then I need you…
Ek adat thi tumse roz baat karne ki
Subha uthte hi tumhe fone ghumane ki
Tumhare ye kehne pe ki abhi aur sona hai
Ek adat thi kuch der me fir se jagane ki
Aaj tum nahi ho to dil kehta hai
kuch to abhi baki hai
Ek adat thi roz ka haal sunne sunane ki
Har pal ke kisse dohrane ki
Un kisso ko jaise tumhare sath jee jane ki
Ek adat thi tumhe satane ki
Aaj tum nahi ho to dil kehta hai
kuch to abhi baki hai
Ek adat thi tumpe haq jatane ki
Be matlab si chhoti baton pe cheekhne chillane ki
Ek adat thi tumhe baton me harane ki
Aaj tum nahi ho to dil kehta hai
kuch to abhi baki hai
Ek aadat thi tumko darane ki
Lad ke door chale jaane ki
Fir jhat se train pakad ke tumse milne aane ki
Ek adat thi tumhare sath wakt bitane ki
Aaj tum nahi ho to dil kehta hai
kuch to abhi baki hai
kya hua ke wo wakt bechara roothh gaya
kya hua ke saath tumhara chhoot gaya
kya hua ke pyar yu majboor hua
dil bechara sach ke hatho choor hua
ab aadat hai mujhko dil jalane ki
ab aadat hai mujhko dhhokha khane ki
ek baar fir se tu mil jaa mujhe
ab aadat hai mujhko jeeteji mar jaane ki

Wednesday, June 27, 2012

oxygen


Its a rusted me


bearing the burns


standing weak.


I am afraid i'll get lost in the nothingness left in me


My worth is quantum one impact...that mocks at my doorstep


It soothes as i ask u to leave me...let me drown


that one day i shall survive to find my way to deathbed...

Thursday, December 8, 2011

a writer's paradize...

Had a night shift. Slept all day, had dinner and then slept again….woke up at 4…..since then….into my thoughts. Silence…..after an hour……..what am I thinking, I wonder…! Its simply nothing…pieces of pictures running frames after frames…one feeling leading to another…none meaningful…none conclusive…amazingly empty. such a vacuum…can’t express…I am loosing the words…they are hiding…my thoughts they are playing with me…they are charming me…as if it’s a bait…they don’t want to lose my attention…before I express one frame it disappears leaving me starving for another…I could not deduce it into words…I lost it. Now they are taking revenge…they have deprived me off the trail…I am unable to find the link to the chain…they are afraid I might expose them…they are sensitive…don’t like to be mocked at…and I love them…….they keep me living…they make me happy when I am alone…and sometimes I make excuses and lie to my frenz…coz it feels better to be alone with them…my own thoughts…my own world…a fantasy.

What is it? Where does it come from every time…and where does it go as it vanishes? Why do I always want to put them on paper…why do I want them to be known by all…loved and appreciated. Why do I like to be known for the things I write? What is this eternal happiness that is there running in my veins making me shiver when I imagine others liking the way I express…my heart is dancing…I don’t want to hold myself anymore…I wanna shout and scream and jump and run…and love and hug and kiss everybody for wanting me to share my thoughts with them. That’s where I want to be…everybody whom I know should be there…and even others…but I have to dig deeper for that. I have to feel the abyss and bring it to the surface…before all. I hope I can provide the rhythm that everybody could synchronize with while I make them imagine my creation. It should be real…so close to life yet virgin…never touched or felt by any. It should be hypnotizingly continuous and amazingly endless. It should tease them for a conclusion and they must hate it when they get one.

I am starving to explain it more but this is not where I wanted to take it when I started and that is where things get difficult. I have to fight my own trivial thoughts for letting the more meaningful ones to shine and bring sense to what I write and to life. I wish I was the master of choosing the right ones and shall be one day if I keep on letting myself be lost in the nothingness and emptiness in the process of create something out of it. I shall be able to bring about a change.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

Love addiction

Today I was exploring a social networking site and came across some pics of a friend…he is doing his post grads and is all surrounded by fairies…yeah that’s what I call them coz for me they are a fantasy…well he had something in him…whenever he spoke an idea came out…a point of view which was not obvious but real…and smart. He had a passion for his life, his friends…I never thought he would fight for me but he did…grabbed his neck…he would have done it for anybody…I am not special…he is.

I could see zeal in him…anger…strength…to stand up for truth, for unity, for care, for love. Yes he loved her…madly. God knows where she is nowadays. Theirs was a fervid relationship...exhaustively together…cravingly hooked… alcoholised…superimposed. She was his blood…and he was her oxygen. He was harshly handsome and she was deathly gorgeous…he was life and she was lethal…but a darling pair…loved by all. But destiny was jealous enough to conspire against. She became a journalist and started her training in final semester. He met with an accident. Could not appear for the exams and lost one year. She moved on with her career and got relocated from the city to Goa. Initially it seemed to be impossible for her to stay away from him. But as days passed she got acquainted to his absence. While he was still barely able to walk made an attempt to meet her without letting anybody know. She was elated being in his arms again. They spent the most beautiful seven days ever at the most lonely and secret yet exotic places of Goa.

While returning back he met a guy on the train. They became good friends and when asked he told him the purpose of his visit in such a crippled condition. Then getting carried away by the thought he showed him her snaps…which shook him head to toe…the train raced on the tracks as the sun drowned in the darkness.

On the next station he got down. Took a taxi and went back. He stayed at a friend’s place and started spying on her. Daily she would come out of her house, take a cab and go to a bus stop that was 15 km from her place and wait there for an ambulance. She would get into it and on the way she would change her attire to that of a nun. She would get down on a church get inside it from the backside entry and never come out. Then again next morning she would come out of her house and follow the same route to the church. One day he disguised himself as Muslim lady and followed her inside the church but was caught by the Father who took him to the assembly hall and made him stand in the crowd for praise and worship. He could only get a glimpse of her while she was entering a door.

His friend knew a Christian girl so he persuaded her to follow her beyond that door. When she went there and did not come out for 6 hrs they got worried. They were just about to let loose the patience and start inquiring about her when the phone rang. She called them at a graveyard 1 km away. She was traumatized as death had touched her. After a while she started speaking. Beyond that door she saw darkness so deep that it was hypnotizing. There was some strange smoke which made her dizzy. She could not remember all but what she saw was that there is a hall illuminated with bright glowing candles and infinite cries of help when all of a sudden she hears a heavy but divine voice saying “welcome my child…let me show you the path towards your destiny.” Then all she remembered was getting bitten by a rat which woke her up beside a grave where she was lying unconscious.

He became more worried and restless and one day grabbed her while she was about to enter the ambulance. She was shocked by his presence…so unlikely though. But she behaved as though she was caught red handed. He tried to ask her the truth beyond all anxiety but she retaliated. On forcing hard she took him inside the ambulance. There as she was getting dressed he was charmed by her untouched flaming skin which used to be his drug but somehow managed to focus on her story. She took him inside the door…it was dark but she knew exactly where the nozzle was which could stop the LSD smoke which causes hallucination and amnesia and even unconsciousness if inhaled in large quantity. That channel took them into a gargantuan cave in the basement with innumerous candles and infinite number of beds with patients mostly teenagers lying and craving for drugs. Much to his relief it was a rehabilitation centre. Father explains the rest that all these children are from the slums of the state who get into this evil addiction because of their poverty. Moreover the hospitals provide them surrogate treatment which saves them from illegal drugs but make them slave to legal drugs thus making handsome money. So they started this rehabilitation center which has now more than a hundred fifty volunteers and has been kept secret ever since its birth where they provide the actual treatment required. The men and nuns come from different professions and work for the church voluntarily. Some of them are even prostitutes. He looks at her but Father explains that she was the one who came up with this idea. One of her friends was sent to a government rehabilitation center where she used to pay regular visits and one day overheard the doctors discussing about the strength of dose to be given, their nefarious design. She decided to elope her friend from there with the help of some friends and managed to bring her to this church. Taking cover of that incident she declared herself missing in the news and media and has been hiding and disguising ever since. She had given up everything even her own identity for the noble cause because she feared that the authorities would intensely interfere once they came to know about it. Most of the patients reach this place through trusted associates...the benign mafia network. The staff used different modes of transport, none public, to get to the church which they rotated every week among themselves.

Now she has decided to be a nun for life and devote herself for philanthropy. He returned to the real mean world saluting his wife’s surrender…yes his wife as they got married that very moment in that same church but decided to remain a bachelor and nun officially for life.

He got into a post graduation college and is looking forward to professionally settle in Goa though they can never touch each other…but can fight for the same cause.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Is a story beginning again!!!


sari raat ek dard sa raha hai is seene me……
ek chahat……
jaise kuch kehna ho tumse……
magar tu mere sath nahi hai……
jab tu hoti hai ……
to ye chahat is dar se shant ho jati hai……
ki kahi ye adhuri na reh jaye……
mai samajh nahi pa raha hu……
ki ise shant karu ya badhne du……
is baat ka izhar karu ya rehne du……
kuch aur intezar karu ya keh du……
khud se poochhu to koi jawaab nahi……
khuda se poochhu hu to koi jawaab nahi……
kiska intezar hai mujhe……
kya dhundh raha hu……
kya galat hai kya sahi……
in sawaalon ka koi jawaab nahi……
tu meri zindagi me khwab ban ke ayi hai……
shayad mere saare sawaalo ka jawaab ban ke ayi hai……
magar ye bhi ek sachchai hai……
ki ab tuta to ye dil kabhi jud nahi paega……
ab tak samhala hai……bikhar jaega……
tu chali gai to……
ye banda jee nahi payega…
mar jaega.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The Story Began--2

Seating arrangement used to be gender wise in the class, not because it was in the discipline chart but due to conformity. Out of nowhere she sat beside him that day…’not a big deal…it’ll be the first and the last day’…he thought. But she was up to something…she stayed…they became friends…another story began. She was chubby and peppy while he…lean and shy. She was cute and chatty…hmmm he was also cute but silent. Her frisky feature fascinated him. His sensible style stimulated her. At times she was lovely and her sparkling smile created waves inside him but he never realized the intensity. It was only when she didn’t come to school one day…the next day…the day after…for the whole week…it seemed like a hundred years to him and he realized it was not just friendship. He got worried…what will happen if she will also leave him and go away…or ‘Has she already gone?’ this mere thought was appalling. What is all this…he can’t let this happen again…he won’t be able to survive the stroke this time…but he is missing her gravely…life was so colorful when she was around and all of a sudden it had become pale…her presence made everything so interesting…even the most irksome subject would turn into a thrilling movie and now its just the other way round…’where is she…what happened…I need her…please come back.’
Finally she came…oh what a sigh of relief…its that feeling again…but he ignored her…as if he didn’t remember her anymore…he was afraid that she would get upset…its been so long and he didn’t say a word to her…not even a simple HI…didn’t ask her the reason of her absence…wasn’t he curious?...did he at all care for her?...didn’t he miss her?...is it that she was important only when she made him laugh and now when she is in some trouble she means nothing? But his intentions were not to hurt her…instead he didn’t want his feelings to fly again because the feathers(she) might leave him one day…leave him forever…leave him alone…and these feelings of his…which are so curious to fly today may crash…hard on to the ground…and may never be able to fly again. She didn’t notice the whirlwind of his mind…in fact she acted in a similar manner…she sat beside a girl…didn’t say a word to him…hardly looked at him…didn’t pay any attention towards him. Now…all he thought would be disturbing her because of his reaction were actually annoying him vice versa…’ why is she not talking to me?...shouldn’t she tell me the reason of her absence?…didn’t she miss me?...am I not her friend anymore? She seems happy among her friends and doesn’t need me. Is it over…or never started?
This went on and never changed…there were hundreds and thousands of questions which kept on exhausting his nerves everyday but he could not ask her now as it was too late…and one day she left school…leaving all such questions unanswered. ‘It is late now…I should have talked to her when she was around. Parting would have been much easier.’ thought the stupid boy. All alone again…with a moral…so painful that he would better cut his own throat. I better not elaborate on his condition much because it was obviously pathetic I better tell you how he recovered. The only thought which comforted him was that she also had the same feeling for him but since she knew she was going to leave him she decided not to continue it further and it was a matter of only a month and a half...