Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Every time I put myself out there at the same battle where a win will give me - a hug, which I can be assured of having to myself all my life; a heart, which I can try to win everyday day all over again as it will stay; a hand on my head caressing me, forgiving me all my mistakes; eyes which will look forward to look at me.

Every time I come back bruised, bleeding with a little more tattered heart that I stitch back with optimism and dreams.

I wonder, should I continue till I am left with so small pieces that can't be sewn back together or should I withdraw from the battle ground and be content.

My heart is tired, so are my eyes. My brain is ashamed of continuing to guide my tongue to keep thinking and dish out interesting conversations, with the changing palettes.

Aren't the others tired enough to confess, give up or give in.

Monday, May 8, 2017

Ab bhi chand mein khargosh nazar aata hai
Bachpan ka sukoon ab bhi kahin baaki hai
Ab bhi pehli baarish muskaan le aati hai
Upar wale ka karam, kuchh achhai shayad ab bhi kahin baaki hai

Sunday, April 9, 2017

I am scared
Not for the first time
But for the first time the fear looks so real

It pushed me to be courageous enough
To accept that I am scared
To put it on paper
For the record
That I am scared

Scared of a lonely old age
Scared of having no one on whom I will have a right
Scared of not having any child ever to put to sleep
Scared of all my affection remaining locked away like a lost treasure in a crimson box of my heart
Drowned under oceans of loneliness
Lost through broken anchors of promises
Under the debris of broken dreams of togetherness
The shadows of the silence of hypocrites
The greys of the indecisive cold feeted claimers of love, who can't tell between two women through their faces or souls
Who respect one woman who created them but forgot to teach them that other women deserve the same respect, commitment and dedication

The heart that doesn't bleed anymore from stabs as it is drained long back

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Whatever takes me to the next moment

Wow... What a perspective..( the above post by RS). . I will go at my own pace. You make haste and have your undercooked, half baked dinner. I will have my tasty spread on the table and would have also walked enough by the time to look forward to and relish the dinner without guilt of gluttony. It will be as I had dreamt of with the thought and the image that can be imagined only by me. You won't have any part of it coz the charm you added to the dinner table was also my imagination of your persona. You never had any inkling or inclination but for grabbing anything to fill your stomach and kill your hunger.
The romanticism, the touch of elegance, the soft, beautiful haze of light, the tinkle of the forks and the twinkle in the eyes is me. It will not be lost by me and had by you coz you never knew, neither had an inkling of my imagination.

Thanks to RS for writing Haikus that help me get lines of thought. About this write up which is in fact my comment on sir's blog....guess I took it to a note of vengeance which is definitely not a part of practicing happiness but nonetheless it soothes me to think thus for now. Thanks for showing this approach RS.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

एक मुलाक़ात अपने आप से.....

बीते कल से कुछ सपने उधार ले फिर जीने की कोशिश कर रही हूँ ।

 मेरे ही अन्दर हैँ सब जवाब इस यक़ीन पे यक़ीन करने की कोशिश कर रही हूँ।

मेरा अपना दिल ही नाराज़ है मुझसे कि क्यूँ खोजा मैंने सुकूँ बाहर

जो वादा था इससे जीने का, न झुकने  का,  न माँगने का

फिर क्यों बेसब्र हो गई , क्यों हो गई काफ़िर ?
गिरते पड़ते दो क़दम चढ़ती हूँ फिर चार क़दम फ़िसल  आती हूँ
लेकिन थमना नहीँ है अब
कभी तो चार क़दम की चढ़ाई होगी और दो  क़दमों की फ़िसलन 
तब तक माज़ी में कहे अपने ही  अल्फ़ाज़ों को छूते रहना है
अपने ही पुराने आप से अपनी मुलाक़ात कराते रहना है 
जब तक दोनों  फिर न मिल जाएँ 
मैं अपने आप से 
मेरा दिल मेरी मंज़िल से

Saturday, July 11, 2015


10 years ago there was a 21 year old girl, sitting before the idols of deities, crying, scared, asking Him to protect her and help her and her family.

Her family had gone bankrupt, they were under threat of physical violence by the creditors.

She prayed to the lord.

She went to her school Principal's house. She had just retired and had received a lot of money.

Our girl went to her with the purpose of seeking monetary help with an intention of returning in when she starts earning. She got this confidence, coz when she had topped in her college and paid a visit to the school Principal, the Principal had expressed to her father, a desire of owning her responsibility and sending her abroad for further studies. Being self respecting, the girl had then felt a rush of blood to her cheeks, as she felt it was as if her Principal was indicating that the girl's father did not have the good sense of ensuring that she pursues further studies. She had then left the Principal's house as early as she could. But now the times had changed, she had no other way out. She had considered handing herself over to the Principal and going wherever she wanted to send her, and let her take all the credit of her success while her family will be criticized for not seeing the good sense of doing the same themselves. But in return she would ask her just 2 lac rupees.

She was wrong, not in thinking that she won't get the money, but in thinking her Principal to be mean, as she now realizes that she meant well. And she really did not have any money to spare.

Anyways, she had no success. Then she wrote a letter to a man, whose article in the newspaper had inspired her.

She wrote an email, which can be summarized thus. She was encouraged with the man's ideas and was a very good brain herself. She can promise that she will be a success as a contributor to science and society, but in order that she can actually survive and continue studying till that time, she would need her family to be intact and for that she needs money which she would return once she is successful.

No reply ever came.

Then saw an advertisement of a poetry contest online, while she was at the cyber cafe, writing the email to the person who wrote the article. She wrote a poem and went to the cyber cafe again, but she was a novice about www. She could not be sure whether the poetry actually ever got posted or not. But she had read some sample poetries there and was somehow sure that her poetry was at par if not better.

But as we know she was a novice, and never got to know what happened to her entry.

She knocked every possible door and got no answer so there she was; sitting before the deities, asking protection for her and her family. She was scared to move out of her room.

10 years later, the girl had earned a lot of money..... no not by means which generally follow such turn of events, but rather by working. She is now a confident professional, doing very well in an MNC.

But Today, she is again sitting in front of the deities, crying. She is scared. She is asking them to protect her, to help her. She is Bankrupt emotionally......

She has knocked at the hearts of people, but no reply.

There are those people like her Principal who want to own her and be proud of her traits but cannot lend the emotional help.

There are people like the article writer, who preach love is great, but have no trust on what they preach. They don't trust that lovers exist in Today's world and thus don't take the cry for help seriously.

There are those conquests like the poetry contest, where you pour your heart out, but you cannot be sure whether anything got registered or not.

Nothing has changed, it was financial misery now it is emotional.

But misery is not a currency which can buy you anything but pity.

Everything else needs to paid back in equal currency. It is just that our girl has the money but in currencies that are not accepted around here.

She is using currencies of Gold which remain as true to their value Today as they were centuries ago; and people of Today used to paper money with the various marks of Dollars, Pounds, Rupees & Euros are more eager to believe that her currencies are too good to be True. The coins according to them can be Gold plated at best and will wear out showing the plastic within in no time.

The Girl with all her Gold, sits in front of the deities and cries, coz with all that Golden Currency of emotions and sincere love, she is bankrupt, she cannot get them exchanged to fill her hungry heart and thirsty eyes.

She is Bankrupt in this world of paper currency of make believe value.

Friday, June 3, 2011

Can't find the girl anymore....

I knew a girl once. I remember the girl was sweet.

She would cry when she saw a stray dog beaten up. Her face glowed and eyes glittered when she earned a friendly smile or an encouraging tap. Her head used to bow in humility when she got praised on her face.

So innocent that her cheeks burned red and she trembled with anger when some guy proposed her..... love a crime at that tender age she thought.

She spent sleepless nights when a teacher got angry.

She used to run to her favorite neighbour's house at the slightest chance and stayed on for hours, completely ignorant of time and conduct. She was unaware of the codes of conduct, egos, status quo, protocol, and all such words, their synonymns and their meanings.

Waited for power failures to run out and play in the moonlight. Tried not to sleep for fear of missing the early morning picnic bus.

Too dumb to notice when her presence was unwanted. Too slow to pick up the hints to vanish during big discussions. Unable to read between the lines when she was not wanted and was conveyed the same in not as many words.

She used to keep talking ....yak...yak...yak...yak..... without a care if someone is listening or not.

Too glad daydreaming of talking to his dream man...a celebrity ! :) unaware of any other dimension. And these day dreams, her diary full with imaginary conversations with the man and his photo (gifted by a friend, who got it by buying chewing gums or cold drinks) was too big a love affair for her to be dealt with, in optimum secrecy and spoken of in hushed tones with her best friend. She did not bother to think that the dream man's agreement and commitment can matter. She imagined him reciprocating like a movie hero to the heroine :). Rejection was no where in sight as far as her heart could see or imagine. She cried bitterly and got one of the worst marks of her career the day she read of his marriage in the newspaper :)

Oh yes :) she used to see n think from the heart.

Now, she seems too unreal, too good to be true or to emulate. I can't remember, even faintly, the state of her heart within, which gave her that calming, resilient, attractive innocence outside. Can't find the girl and can't emulate her...badly in need of her calming presence. Can someone find her for me.

Note: Looking for vitality :) Sanjeevani to bring back to life the spotless soul, that can be soiled by no amount of sadness or negativity around. Groping for strength, an oar to sail me through.

P.S. Reposting. Had posted it on 8th Sep'10.... but still looking for her... so posting again... :) :)