1-2-and-3

none of us had any idea what the right way was. i had been watching the whole show from the comfort of my 2nd floor balcony (the block opposite to the one that's visible in the pics). the first two tries failed. and i couldn't get a clear view - with specs and all. so i decided to come down. and someone espied me and proposed that i should try to be the one on top (no pun intended). maybe because i was the lightest.i failed the first time - too much water in my eyes. but the second time, i managed to brave all the water that was thrown at me. and the rest, as they say, is history [:P]...

chhota naween :)

death wish

my tears have gone cold
and i wonder
why i cried all night long
mornings seem clear
and a far cry
from the black fears
and my black tears
sitting in a huddle
my arms ache
from holding myself
too tight all night
and the pillow
stares back at me
a witness to
all my muffled cries
and unsaid words
i wake up
to another day
fearing the night

GPS

किसी हँसी में लिपटी
किसी आंसू से चिपटी
कभी बारिश के शोर में
कभी उजली सी भोर में
कल के कुछ सपनों से
बीते कल के कुछ अपनों से
तारों से गढ़ी तस्वीरों में
हथेली की कुछ लकीरों में
सन्नाटे के सूनेपन में
भीड़ के भूरेपन में
हार की हताशा के पार
जीत की खुशी में बार-बार
कचोटती किसी आस से
चुभी हर फाँस से
आज, कल और कल में
दिन के हर छोटे पल में

चुपके से आए याद तेरी यहाँ

सिर्फ़ मैं जानूं, तू है कहाँ कहाँ
....

[the last two lines are from the song chhor gaye by atif aslam in his album meri kahani]

learning curve

आपकी आँखों की सारी बातें
ये आँखें पढना सीख लें
आपकी चुप्पी के तारों से
हम कहानियां गढ़ना सीख लें

पहलू में गेसुओं की रात तले
आपकी आँखों के तारे देखना सीख लें
हमारी जिंदगी को आप ज़रा छू लें
हम चैन से मरना सीख लें

ha!!

Q:why was the gym-goer girl rejected in the job interview?

A: coz she was a mis-fit.

Q: why was the older male prefered to the younger female for the post of the CEO?

A: coz he was good at man-aging.

[a competition and globalization class can do wonders to your sense of humor - all on the downside, though]

raconteur's rant

headache. big one. no sleep. no dreams. thoughts. and more. racing across eternity. looking for reasons. for everything. manufacturing some. reasoning some. faces and facts don't always match. don't remember. ouch. a raw nerve there. running around in circles. neat ones. walking on clouds and getting lost in some. cuddly clouds. like hugging the air. left with myself in the end. additions and subtractions apart. i remain.

toothy grin

this is chinku. a present i gave to my sis.

[:D :D]

the awakening

रातों में जगा करते हैं
कुछ अधूरे अधमरे ख्वाब
और जगती हैं
ढेरों अनकही बातें
अंधेरे से अपनों सी
बातें करती हैं
कुछ सिसकती, बिलखती
पथराती आँखें
काली चादर ओढे
समय की रेत
कल के दलदल को
मोड़ देती है राहें
रातों में जागते हैं
कुछ दीवाने लोग
और जगा करती हैं
प्यासी, सूनी बाहें

g-talk

when did contacts in gmail turn so cool? i completely missed the rollout of this feature!

tried out the superstars today! nice li'l feature. and quick links is good too. if only i got mails more frequently.

google talk labs edition, even though a bit buggy, has smileys and tabbed chat. but i think i like separate windows. maybe they'll include an option in the final release.

and yes, don't miss the evolution of gmail chat here.

long-lost departure

in a dark corner
all by myself
cringing from
every ray of light
nursing bruises
too many to count
shivering in a pool
of my tears
i wonder how long
i've been so
and i remember
once upon a time
there were people
who i turned away
and this misery
is of my own making
and yet i wonder
why they couldn't
have stayed for me
despite me..
what have i become
my sweetest friend
everyone i know
goes away in the end
....

[the last four lines are from hurt-johnny cash, one beautiful song..]

is it?

does the word 'swarthy' in english have some relation with the hindi स्वार्थी? as in, स्वार्थी people have their insides all black...

struggle

they flutter and splutter
shredded appendages
that once propped me up
and every moment
i soared among clouds
is like a thorn now
bleeding me to death
i try and try some more
but i end up gasping
for breath, for life
as it's only the earth
i can embrace now
and everyone around
mocks me with
the same question
again and again:
how high can you fly
with broken wings

i hide behind a veil
of blood and tears
groveling in the dust
ready for any pity
they'd throw at me
but they keep poking
at the wounds
and as i gather
my arms around me
they aim for my heart
and i get angry

i get angry
for all the spilled blood
for all the shards
my wings have been
turned into
every broken piece
has a jagged edge
and in a fury
i rip apart
each one of them
with all the pieces of
my broken dreams

and as i fly away
my wings whole again
i see all the corpses
lying dead there
i see them
all of me

different

in all those endless songs that bollywood churns out, some songs dare to be different. defying the traditional format. or doing something different.

->the song baat meri suniye from kuchh na kaho. not the usual refrain-song-refrain routine. agar main kahoon from lakshya tried to be of this variety.
->kyun aage peeche dolte ho from golmaal. a hilarious take on the nasal singing of yesteryears.
->breathless by shankar mahadevan.
->songs that have minimal music. like lalkaar from RDB or the title song of laga chunari mein daag
->ek main aur ek tu hai from bluffmaster
->humko maloom hai from jaan-e-mann

i can't think of any more [:(]!! anyone who reads this and has some song in mind, is requested to leave a comment.

with creative inputs from sunny somani [:P]!

दुःख के साथी

आज बूंदों के गले
गिले बाँध कर
कुछ आंसू बस यूँ ही
बारिश के नाम
लुटा कर
आसमान की ओर
भीगी पलकों से
कुछ बातें कह
मन हल्का हो गया
पता चला दुनिया
इतनी नहीं बदरंग
कोई और भी
रोता है मेरे संग

Act II

i thought it would end at that. but i was wrong. i was in for a reprise. and a rather elaborate one.

start of the class. someone asks a question about the syllabus. and the prof says 'it's very clear. as this gentleman read out clearly yesterday.' would have been fine. if he had not gone to repeat that 'gentleman read out clearly' phrase about five times.

okki. okki. i could hear it the first time, you know.

and then almost near the end of the class - a 90 minute class -i get a slight headache. must be the number of times i've got wet today. reason doesn't matter. i take off my specs, close my eyes and massage my temples a bit. prof facing the board during this time. turns around to find me with my eyes closed. launches into a lengthy narrative. i'll try to give a gist.

as a kid, he lived in rajasthan. where people are religious. coz they have nothing else to do. he's been to the pravachan of every guru you can think of. the programs would start at about nine. but his mother would drag him to the venue as early as five in the morning. they had to get the front row, you know. now in this place, there's a gender division - women and girls one side, men the other. the former side gigantic in proportions because even among the people who have nothing to do, it's the ladies who are especially jobless. he got to sit on the ladies' side. because his mother would insist that he was just a kid. some time into the pravachan people would get so moved that they would start dancing to the bhajans. he'd watch all the women dancing. all this fervour would last till about ten or eleven. and then almost everyone he could see would have his/her eyes closed while gently swaying. he'd argue with his mother and ask her why she insisted on bringing him to this place when all these devotees did was to doze off. and his mother used to give him a lesson. when you learn with your eyes open, you use your brain. but if you want to get something imbibed in your heart, you have to close your eyes.

moral of the story: whenever the prof finds a student with his eyes closed, he likes to think that the student is trying to learn from the heart.

okki. everyone had a good laugh. smiles all around.

and i was thinking. in the college i come from, when you listen to bhajans, you can't possibly have your eyes closed. even though you'll probably be dancing a special dance.

but of course, i couldn't say any of this.

first day - second year

some guy enters class. and we want to make fun of him. so we start clapping. and at the same instant the prof enters thru the other door. and looks straight at me. me clapping. fuck!!

prof distributes the course outline. everyone busy reading it. i'm in no hurry to start studying. so i fold it, put it in my copy and look up. look up at the prof. who looks back at me. fuck!!

and this, i think, was the reason why i was made to read out the entire course outline!!! read out aloud!! feeling like an idiot! fuck, fuck, fuck!!

okki. point taken.

we had two classes today. and i gave the acronyms for the subject interesting expansions to make them more appetising:
Product & Brand Mgmt : PBM = Paneer Butter Masala
Commercial Banking: CMB = CBM = Chicken Butter Masala

i've written them along with the subject names [:D]!

:D

advert for a gym : run your way to the body of your dreams.

and i could only say: HAWWWW!!

twin blips

जो कहती थी बातें हजार

उन आँखों में नमी रहती है

कभी घंटों बका करते थे

अब बातों की कमी रहती है...

सपनों का मकाँ न बन सका
सूनी आंखें बस सूनापन निहारें
एक मकाँ अब भी है बन रहा
पर अब बस खड़ी होती हैं दीवारें...

mapped!!

we had this psychoanalysis session in the beginning of first year. i blogged about it some time back. at the end of it, each of us was supposed to draw a mind-map. i decided to make up for all the time i had stayed quiet and the result was this :


[:D] [:D]

coming clean :P

my new-term resolution :

i'm going to try to have a bath everyday.

:D

इक शहर अनजाना सा

राहों में चलूँ तो
कुछ यादों के पत्थर
बिखरे रहते हैं
गलियां मुड़ मुड़ के
जाने कुछ साजिश करके
उस मोड़ पे पहुंचती हैं
आखिरी मुलाकात के पल
जहाँ याद आते हैं

हवाओं में कुछ लम्हे
घुले खुशबू से
बीते कल के रहते हैं
इक उजड़ी सी मुस्कान के साथ
कुछ दमघोंटू आंसू
तेरी बातों के चंद
टूटे शब्द बटोरे
चले ही आते हैं

सूरज की ढलती किरणों से
रोशन तेरा वो चेहरा
उन सीढियों पे बैठे
तेरे चेहरे को एकटक
यूं देखना की बस
सूनी रातों में याद रहे
कुछ मंज़र हैं की
भुलाए नहीं भूलते हैं

वजहों की गिनती कहाँ
इसका होना भी इक वजह है
शुरुआतों की बुनियादों पे यहाँ
अन्तिम घड़ियों का मकाँ है
सपनों के जहाँ की जगह
वीरानियों का शमशान है
इस शहर में अब
जीना कहाँ आसान है

मैं क्या, मेरा क्या

टूटे पंखों के
कतरों को समेटते
कुछ उभर आते हैं
नए से पुराने घाव

पर बावरा मन अब भी
उन तिनकों से कहीं
बुनता ही रहता है
नए से पुराने ख्वाब

हँसते अश्कों से
रोती मुस्कराहटों से
उधेड़बुन से बुन बुन
बस अपनी कही सुन सुन

सतरंगी सपनों से
पर ये बटोरे हैं
कुछ भी हो जाए
पंख ये मेरे हैं

लिखूं तो क्या

कुछ पिघली सी ओस
गालों पे छोड़
निशा अपना निशान
लिख ही जाती है
बदरा सी अंखियों में
उजली सी बहियों में
काजल की लीक कहीं
दिख ही जाती है

कुछ सागर की कही

भीगी आंखों से छलकी
कुछ खारी बूंदों में
मीठी हंसी कहीं
डूब सी गयी है

मन के खारे सागर की
कुछ खट्टी लहरों से
सपनों के कुछ घरौंदे
टूट कर बह गए हैं

बची है तो अब बस
हाथ से फिसलती रेत
और अधजली आशाओं का
घुटन भरा सूनापन

सागर सा बड़ा मन
सागर सा खाली है
सागर सा खारा मन
सागर सा भारी है

[written after a prolonged session of staring-at-the-sea]