Monday, July 24, 2017

Stubborn waves

Waves after waves fold out to the walls and recede
Walls too high...walls too strong

The moon shines and burns both sides of the wall
The very same moon

Waves keep pouring their soothing grace up till the walls
Hoping the same to get carried in some mysterious way, through the tricky paths of worldly wisened jungles of people and a talkative mind, to carry peace, to carry dreams, to carry two moments of solace.

Waves keep going to the walls
Hoping the walls have gotten shorter, thinner, weaker
They keep caressing the green lichen on the walls
Hoping they have become cooler

They keep looking at the sky overhead
Hoping it has become more blue
The blue of new morning

But they dare not burst forth the wall
What if there is no sand to wet on the other side
What if it's a vacuum,  a dark hole gaping at them

They will loose their reason to come to the wall every day
They will loose the rhythm;
the game of wax and wane with the moon, that they now so happily play

Saturday, July 22, 2017

She raises her eyes to look at him
Her brownish black traces slightly turned with her lashes

Her face brightens up
A slight curve on the edges of her lips
A light depression on her cheeks

He lowers his head
Caresses the Brown strands
Smiles and looks at her eyes

She lowers her eyes then shifts her vision
Can't keep her eyes fixed on his eyes and can't take them off as well

She smiles to hide the reddening blush on her cheeks
Tries to talk away her shyness

He's perturbed..
Doesn't she like me
Why would she look away.

She feels elated and graceful
She finds something precious
Something she can loose

He feels doubtful n unsure
He readies for worst possible
He readies to give up rather than loose

She's decided to stay forever
He's decided to walk away than be denied
She is firm and resolute

She raises her eyes to look at him
Her brownish black traces slightly turned with her lashes

Her faces brightens up
A slight curve on the edges of her lips
A light depression on her cheeks

He lowers his eyes
Looks at his own empty open hands
Sighs and looks at her eyes

She lowers her eyes
And puts her hands in his
He holds them, he doesn't want to leave them; she doesn't want him to leave them

Wednesday, July 19, 2017

When I look at you it feels like there's a different world out there and it seems to be beautiful

Tuesday, July 18, 2017

Mehfooz nahi mera dil mere pass
Kitni baar toota meri laparwahi se
Machal uthta hai bachchon ki tarah
Dimaag ko koi mauka hi nahi
Majaal hai aankhen ise ek sapna dikhaye fir main usse wo bhula sakun
 Par ab bas
Dil bachcha hai main toh nahin
Waada hai isse, ab na hi tootega, na zakhmi hoga.
Na sapne dekhega na roansa hoga
Sambhal ke ek band kothri me rakhungi ise
Jahan sirf mausiki ki mehfil hogi, mangadh kahaniyon ka jamawda hoga
Na beintehan khusi na had se zyada gam
Na sapne na intezaar
Na yakeen, na pyar, na ye ghaate ka karobaar

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Dear God

I just hope that on the last day of my life all this makes sense; to me atleast
All the madness, all the impulsiveness, all the evenings, all the resolutions, all the plans...100% cancelled :), all the preparations. ..99% not put to use :), all the fears 99.95% unfounded and unrealized, all the eager waiting....100% unfructified, all the apprehensions. ..99% not materialzed :), all expected sadness...99.99% never felt :)
I hope it all sums up to something meaningful....on the last day of my life......atleast to me :)

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Marete Hodenu

I was going to go back to sleep, till the tea comes, after opening the front doors for the tea walah.
But then a glimpse of the golden morning through the door and I couldn't go back to sleep.
The morning didn't let me sleep.

What a metaphor...I was going to go back my sleep of sulk from life only to wake up for the tea of work to get me going. In the process on my way to ofc I came across a glimpse of "Sanchari" for 30 sec, tempted I held open the doors and I was exposed to the blinding brilliance of this song, the lyrics speaking of a world I live in in my dreams....the music like a healing touch of a cool caress on a forehead throbbing and hot with pain.
And I couldn't go back to the sulk anymore.
Then I looked more carefully at the brilliance and I saw a face.....Where the eyes were speaking and smiling more than the lips...the face had a purity often committed but rarely found.

It made me fearless somehow. ..I don't know how and why...but I am more ready for life .....come life...

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.