Sunday, 3 May 2015

Bachpan

Paanch baje khelne bulaya tha
cycle ki utri chain le ke aya tha
do rupaye ki plastic ki ball ne
aaj Bachpan yaad karaya tha

Kaala maanjha bada mehenga tha
saddi se pench ladaya tha
panni wali kati patang lootne
mannu ne daudaaya tha
sportstar se Allen Donald ka photo kaat ke
deewar pe lagaya tha
bhai ki purani champak ne
aaj Bachpan yaad karaya tha

Trump cards se thodi yaari thi
book cricket ki beemari thi
boomer ke tattoos ne
mummy se pitwaya tha
crayons aur geometry box ka stencil
waqt ne humse churaya tha
Toote huye He-man aur G.I.Joe ne
aaj Bachpan yaad karaya tha

roll number 28 ne
school ko romantic picture banaya tha
diwali mele mein uske block ka
saari shaam chakkar lagaya tha
hath se sala fisla aisa
pakad mein na aaya tha
do rupaye ki plastic ki ball ne
aaj Bachpan yaad karaya tha.

Friday, 27 March 2015

Glow Sticker


“Danny! Downstairs in 2 minutes! Come out of your room! You've been in there all day now. Don’t test my patience! Downstairs. Now!”

*Music in the background, coming from Danny’s room*

‘Mother, do you think they’ll drop the bomb?’

*sound of a young boy humming and mumbling*

‘Mother, should I run for president?
Mother, should I trust the government?
Mother, will they put me in the firing line?
…is it just a waste of time?’


May 17th, 2005:

Danny’s getting older now. He’s 15 already. He feels he looks odd for a teenager, but he looks just fine. A little leaner than usual, he’s quite tall for his age. His wavy curls have started to fall below his eyebrow now, longer than ever. He likes it, says it’s cool. A couple of acne spots around his cheekbones have nail marks around them. Well he likes to play, little Danny.

A pointy nose, the gene that runs in his family, is scrunched a little. A perpetual squint while he does that. Oh Danny boy! What have you got this time? Is it another glow sticker?

Ol’ Danny has a passion. Glow Stickers. All over his walls inside his room, all over the ceiling, all over the doors, the wardrobes, the desk and the cabinets, it’s quite a show at night. He likes to have an ambience around him. Fireflies, Lights, Flames, Glow.
He has a passion; he wants to light up the whole world one day. The darkness, the gloom, the melancholy, all gone. But his mother doesn't like it. She wants him to study. Such lowly creatures, some beings, he says. Will always be stuck in their good ol’ ricket-o-rackets and their merry-go-rounds they call chores and life. Pity! So much pain all around, how do they ignore that? So much sadness. Somebody needs to step up and change everything. Make it a better place. Initiate.

Danny boy is right you know! Someone needs to step up. Someday, someone will create a light so bright it’ll blow everyone away. Someday.

Just like this morning, he found some leftover bleach, ether and motor oil behind the garage door.
“Were they really planning to throw this stuff away? You’re kidding me right? Gold!”
Danny boy likes to collect and experiment. He is quite a show when he works. Little scientist, his friends call him. Or imaginary friends as others say. How does it matter, Danny has a mighty company who adores him and loves him for who he is. So what if they are invisible to the world? They are beautiful human beings, pity the world will never get to know them.


The little scientist has been in his room all day, experimenting and working on his Big Glow Sticker. His friends have been in there with him, cheering him on. He’s a hardworking lad, our Danny boy. He gets a little irritated by his mother’s shrieking voice every now and then though.

“It’s a big day, Ma. Shut the hell up!”

Indeed a big day. A bright future is coming. No darkness. No gloom. No melancholy. Everything will be beautiful. Just like the universe. Vacuum. Infinity.


May 17th, 2005:

“Danny! Downstairs in 2 minutes! Come out of your room! You've been in there all day now. Don’t test my patience! Downstairs. Now!”

*Music in the background, coming from Danny’s room*

‘Mother, do you think they’ll drop the bomb?’

*sound of a young boy humming and mumbling*

‘Mother, should I run for president?
Mother, should I trust the government?
Mother, will they put me in the firing line?
…is it just a waste of time?’


* MASSIVE EXPLOSION*

You did it, Danny boy. It’s all quiet now. So much peace. Nobody’s gloomy now. Everyone has achieved eternal peace. Just like the universe. The Big Bang. Vacuum. Infinity.

The big glow sticker is flaming.

Thursday, 3 October 2013

Chasing Cars - Episode 3

It was time to leave.

He looked around to find the house keys but couldn't locate them. He swore under his breath. Keys had always been his problem. Since he had his first bicycle lock keys till date, even with the most sincere effort to put them in the right place, he always managed to misplace them somehow.
And just when he was getting a little impatient, he spotted the sword of Elendil key-ring right below the day-old newspaper.

Locked.
Left.
Drove.
Reached.
Walked.
Sat.

And as if jolting out of a dream, he found himself sitting on a bench behind the office buildings in this huge Technology Park. He had no memory of driving here, or leaving from his place, or how he ended up sitting on this particular bench beside this little cigarette shop. He couldn't believe what was wrong with him. Perhaps he needed to sleep more. Insomnia was playing tricks on him.

He was lighting up his cigarette when Alisha appeared out of the huge glass exit door on the other end of the building. He was glad to see her. She was one of the only friends he could talk to. Or then it was silence. Close. Dark. But understanding.

"And look who's here on time! " Alisha chuckled. " I thought this would be one of those days where I'd receive a call in the evening and you wont turn up again. "

"Oh I don't do that so often do I?" He spoke. And it felt weird. As if the words were coming from somewhere else. He hadn't spoken in a while now, and his own voice seemed as if it was a stranger's.

"Anyways. I talked to my boss. He said he might set things up for you. He knows people. Perhaps you'll get a job here or somewhere else for sure. He'll be coming down in a while. You guys can talk. And yes, Nick, for a change, try and be nice to him okay? He's helping you. " She finished.

"Yeah. Will be. Sure thing." He mumbled.

***

As he unlocked the door of his house, he felt strangely sick in his stomach. He had no clue what had happened earlier in the day. He had to meet and be nice to some CEO in some firm to land up a petty job somewhere. And after half an hour of lectures on why corporate sector was different than his usual life, he eventually escaped the walls of the Tech Park. He threw the keys on the couch, and went inside the room to check on Oscar. He was lying on one end of the floor and moved a little to welcome his master and friend home. He was sick, and tried to raise his paw to acknowledge his master's concern for him. Maybe he even tried to bark a little, but he was too weak.

Oscar was his only friend who understood him the way he expected someone to. An Alsatian, and a handsome dog indeed, he rescued Oscar when he was a couple of weeks old and was crying in the rain outside his gate, probably abandoned. The first time he held Oscar in his hands, he knew it was going to last. And it had, till now, for the least.

He looked at his dog, who had been a warrior as strong as him, through it all, and tried to smile and cheer him up. But he quickly turned away to hide a tear.

"I'm sorry, Oscar. For all this." He mumbled to himself.

And then he fainted.


Saturday, 13 July 2013

Chasing Cars - Episode 2

He looked around for his phone, which he heard ringing a while back. He found it lying under the pillow in a neglected condition. 7 new messages and a couple of missed calls were waiting to greet him, and he wondered if he could escape them somehow, escape everything and just fly off to some green, cold mountains with a constant drizzle and the smell of nature.
But escapes were not possible in his world.

He stood up and looked into the mirror. The face he saw looking back at him was not the one he identified. The cheerful young face that once was his, had given way to a hollow, hopeless, austere man he never thought he would be. So much had changed over the course of a few years. Now it all seemed like it happened long back in some other time. Like ages ago.

Nikhil Verma, a bright young prospect he was at school. There was something about him that would make people look back at him again after the first glance. He was tall, well, to be honest, tall enough to reach that category. He was a little less than 6 feet, with an athletic structure. His ethnicity was mixed, a British mother and an Indian father. He inherited his looks from his mother, but his structure was a replica of his father. Hazel eyes, medium length light brown straight hair which always fell down his brow, a pointed nose, high cheekbones and a strong wide jaw. He was one of the most good looking boys in the campus, and had it not been for Vikram Shergill, the basketball captain, he would've been the hottest property of Chelmswood International School.

Located below the hills of Nainital, near the lake, Chelmswood International was one of the most reputed boarding schools in India. The school had produced some remarkable alumni in the past. With the students coming from strong, reputed families, Chelmswood was a brand in itself. Nikhil's father was an alumnus of this school, and a well known personality in the elite circles.

"Pass me the cigarette, sucker!" Vikram bellowed. Kshitij reluctantly gave him the cigarette, puffing out the smoke luxuriously.
"Kshitij son of a bitch never passes anything, ball in the game or cigarettes. Saala selfish asshole." Nikhil smirked in sarcasm.
"That's the lamest comparison ever, loser. Football and sticks, haha! " Vikram snortled.
"Shut up and finish it quick, Vikram, if that warden comes in here we're screwed." Kshitij commented, looking around.
"Such a fattu you are,man. Why do you even smoke, you bloody mouth fag like that Ayesha bitch. " Vikram lazily reacted.
"But you got to admit Ayesha's bloody hot. Don't know what she did over the summer but she certainly has been driving all the guys from C section crazy." Nikhil said, with a little excitement in his voice.
"We know what she did over the summer, bro." Kshitij winked.
"Hahaha! Saala perv i knew you'd say that!" Vikram laughed, and Nikhil joined in.
"Let's get back to the dorm before haddi walks in, we got to work on that song as well." Nikhil spoke suddenly, getting up and cleaning the wet leaves and mud off his lower. The three of them got up eventually, and walked off the backside of the dormitory which was at the footsteps of the forest behind the school. The area was surrounded by trees, and wasn't visible from the hostel windows. Nikhil had discovered this area accidentally when one day he had to run around the campus to save his ass from the warden who caught him making out with one of the girls behind the Girls' hostel.

"Crazy days,school." He chuckled. He looked back in the mirror and was jolted back into the present. He missed the old days. There was so much he could have been from there. If only he could go back in time and change certain things and certain decisions, his life would've been so different, SO different.
If only.

Thursday, 11 July 2013

Chasing Cars - Episode 1

11th of July, 2013.

He just sat there, staring into the distance.

There was a subtle calmness about the morning air, as if after a wild storm, the winds were settling down, tired and quiet. The roads looked back, as if making fun of him, going on till eternity, against his static and stagnant life. Even the clouds kept moving, and not wayward, but unidirectional, with some purpose underneath those shapes. Unlike his mind, the world wasn't blank, out of purpose, out of inspiration.

He stood up all of a sudden and moved towards the kitchen. He needed some tea. Trying to cut down on cigarettes, he needed something to drown his insides with. The house was quiet. Such an irony, he kept thinking. His mind was screaming inside- insanity, madness, thoughts, questions, desires, needs, hopes, plans, remorse, impatience, randomness -he took a long gasp of breath in, as if to direct the calmness around him, inside.
It didn't help.

Tea was ready. And he started recreating his reality in the head, comprehending the situations. If he wasn't home, he would've had to walk 3 miles to find a tea stall open at 5.30 am. Rs 7 for a cup of tea, and a classic milds for Rs 8, and then maybe another cup of tea, 'cause these jerks served tea in the tiniest cups ever produced by mankind,one body jerk and 3.5 Rs would spill all over one's shirt, and then maybe another milds. "Come on! One cig for two cups of tea, what am I, a baby?"  He saved 30 bucks, right there! "What a fuckin' cheapskate I am,ha!" he chuckled, but he knew somewhere inside, he would've given his decision a second thought while spending that too.

These were hard times. Inside the head, and out there in the world. Inside he was confused, deluded, mentally surrounded by possibilities that were trapped somewhere between 'might' and 'would'. Outside, it was a confused world, always had been. Belief was no less than a war raging in the head against needs and options. It had been while since he had the luxury of a salary in his pocket. The new workplace wasn't exactly an established firm, but a molding model with immense potential. He had worked hard there, very hard, worked without sleep and at times without food, just to make it reach a place where he would be able to lavishly swim in bankrolls. But things had taken a few twists and turns on their way, and it with each passing day, the battle was turning into a mosh-pit of emotions, wavering between the patience to hold on and the urge to move on. Each passing day, was a test of patience.
He hadn't failed yet.

Saturday, 20 April 2013

A Meaning.

6 p.m.
The heat of the day was beginning to subside.It was getting darker at the horizon.There weren't many trees around,but the air started getting a little cooler.She decided it was time for her to head home.Her kids would be waiting for her,hungry,waiting for her to give them food,and maybe tell them how her day went.
That was the general routine she followed since the day her kids opened their eyes.She would head for work in the morning,work all day.around 2 pm, when it was impossible to even lift one's head towards the sky in the heat,she would go and rest under the big tree nearby.Then she would wake up within an hour and would work till the sun would drop.She would then collect some food for which she worked all day,head home and meet her kids who would start shouting in excitement of seeing her return.That one moment,the look in her kids' eyes,the brightness that flashed out of their smile on one sight of her,would make all her efforts worth bearing.They loved her without any parameters of logic,and she loved them beyond the obvious reasons.Her family,her home,her world,it was them.

4 p.m.
Mrs. Singh came out in the balcony to pick up the clothes she'd left to dry in the morning.It was a hot day,and she was sweating profusely.It had been two days since the power cut,and the inverter at her place had stopped working.She made a mental note that she'll ask her son to get some batteries for it from the market.She looked below the apartment,a couple of people started fighting on the street over something."Losers",she mumbled to herself.She was already irritated by the electricity issues,then managing all the housework on her own without the appliances working left her all angry and bubbling with suppressed rage.Just as she was about to take the clothes down the hangers,her elbow felt a sharp piercing pain.She jerked her arm in a reflex action and turned around to find a little hornet bee flying away from her towards the roof.The stinging sensation on her elbow enraged Mrs. Singh further and she took a good look at where the little bee was flying back to.She saw the bee enter a tiny beehive at the corner of the roof,right beside the balcony door,towards the outside.Scratching her elbow and cursing the little bee under her breath,Mrs. Singh walked inside the house deciding that getting rid of the beehive was of utmost priority.

5.45 p.m.
Siddharth came out of the apartment lift thinking about the football game at night. Juventus vs Milan, always a big game in the league.The mere thought of Andrea Pirlo ruling the midfield against his old club gave Siddharth goosebumps.He reached the apartment door and was about to ring the bell when he noticed the nameplate hanging upside down against the nail. "Weird name,but sounds cool,upside down."He thought and chuckled to himself,and pushed the plate upside down."SINGH'S",he mumbled,"damn!that sounds royal",chuckled again and rang the bell.Nothing happened.He realized the power cut was luxuriously extended by the authorities.He took out his phone and called his mother,asking her to open the door.She came,opened the gate and rushed inside,mumbling to herself,leaving Siddharth utterly confused.He walked in behind her and saw some medical creams lying on the table and his mother sitting on the chair furiously rubbing her elbow with a cream sponge.
"What the ! What happened to your elbow?" Siddharth blurted out.
"A hornet bee.Small in size,but boy did she pinch in hard!Get the cleaner mop from the kitchen,and go out in the balcony of my room,right above the door,on the outside,is a little beehive.Go and smash it before anyone else gets hurt.Be careful!"
Siddharth casually picked the mop up and went towards the balcony.Seemed to him as if he was Darth Vader and he would destroy the habitat of the aliens in a jiffy.Carefully,he walked out of the door,and looked up.He saw the smallest beehive he had ever seen."Must've been one lazy bee,ha!"he chuckled.Slowly with the mop,he prodded the beehive,to make sure if there were any bees inside.Just as he prodded the hive,3 tiny bees flew out of it in a weird fashion as if still learning how to fly."Now its empty!"He smashed the hive with full force against the roof with the mop,and the hive fell on the ground and he smashed it into pieces with the mop."And then Sid saved the family from stinging attacks."He dramatically spoke.Just when he was about to turn back towards the door,he looked at the hive,and he thought,so small,so weak,so fragile,is this home to anyone?The buildings around him were huge and impregnable,and this tiny substance lying on the ground,was nothing in comparison.Then he thought,perhaps that's why Human race is the best and top of all species!Feeling pride inside his chest,he walked inside the house.

6.15 p.m.
She was almost home.The closer she got,the more impatient she grew. She was constantly thinking about the kids.They were growing up now.There had been a couple of time when she found them lurking around outside home,when she reached home.She was worried about such situations.With nobody to take care of them, they could land themselves in trouble.After all,they were kids,and their judgment wasn't preceded by logic.She felt a tinge of nervousness creeping on her spine by these thoughts.Especially when her kids had started flying and had their stingers growing sharper.
As a Hornet Bee,life wasn't easy.With a constant threat from all the species,coexistence was a major issue.She knew she never meant harm to anyone,but as often as day and night,she'd find others threatened by her presence,especially Humans.Humans,the unique specie which,in some ways,ruled the movements of life across the globe,but felt threatened by minutest of creatures.She was scared that her kids might scare Humans,which might have dire consequences.
Lost in complex process of thoughts,she reached home.As she flew over the balcony,she headed for the roof,only to find traces of hive-dust around there.She was petrified to the core,and looked around for her kids.It was then when she found crumbs of her home lying down on the floor in pieces.She flung herself to the floor with full force,but couldn't locate any trace of her children.She went off around everywhere searching for them,but all she could find was settling dust,dimming sunlight and the bedsheet of stars far away.

6.25 p.m.
Siddharth stood near the window of his room,looking out in the balcony.The mad buzz created by a hornet bee made him look out.He felt scared,the bee was buzzing frantically around.he couldn't step out fearing it might sting him.All his Human superiority came down crashing in pieces of fear,instilled by a creature far smaller than him.The frantic buzz,was enough to petrify a member of the winning race,the Human race.

6.25 p.m.

She returned back to the pieces of her home,and started looking at them.Her eyes were empty.Her emotions left her.She couldn't feel anything in and around her.Everyday,she fought for her life,her children's lives,only to survive and help them survive.Never did she intend to harm a creature around her.All her energy,all her chi, was spent in creating a sense of security for her family,a circle of faith.The circle,which lay on the floor,broken into pieces.Her niche of life,so small,so weak,so fragile,but it was home to her and her family.The buildings around her were huge and impregnable,and this tiny substance lying on the ground,was nothing in comparison.But then,every piece of the fragile hive,contained something which the ever rising globe of debris could never have.The purity of soul.The desire to love.A Meaning.

Monday, 18 February 2013

Once.

Off he runs,away from them all.
Away from the rise,away from the fall.
Look away and he shall evade.
Oh!Paint it or it would fade!
Oh!Paint it or it would fade!

Sunday, 10 February 2013

Back.Forth.

He drives along the countryside,
the fields are green,
the houses small,
but the vastness huge,
and a never-ending blue sky,
almost like a painting,
a beautiful place to look at,feel and be a part of,
as if this is where he belongs.

But he drives on.
And comes across a hilly town,
mist a meter above the ground,
and the lakes resemble sparkling crystals,
the trees protect the land with the arms of trees,
and the dew is permanent,
feels like a dream on a winter night,this place,
and a place hard to drive away from.

But he drives on.
And comes across a forest,
silent,untouched,holy,pure,
where the wind rustles the leaves,
like the waves of an ocean,
and the chirping birds at times,
feels like the symphony of silence,
a forest to feel the nature and the wonders and the beauty,
and how could anyone walk away from this serenity.

But he drives on.
And drives for miles and miles and more,
but its just the road,and the road around,
empty spaces prevail,
no green,blue or sparkle to view,
but the absence of any presence.

And he stops.

He feels sorry to have left the beauty behind,
but hopes he might find something perfect to stay,further if he drives,
and he stands deluded.
Nostalgia and Anticipation aren't too far from each other,
and it all depends,
on what we look at,
longer.

Oh the road goes back!
Oh the road goes forth!

Tuesday, 15 January 2013

?

If you live your life fearing the dark,you might never witness the beauty of the night!

Thursday, 10 January 2013

Convergence.Divergence.

He sits in the sun,
with a pad,a pen and headphones on,
he thinks of a scene,
and then of a song,
he shuffles around,
there's something missing,a scene or a song?
He looks at the world,
then the world of his own,
and doesn't look back,
its better where he belongs.
Then she walks in,
through the trees and the shadows,
with a pad,a pen and headphones on,
she looks around,
Sun touches her skin,
and golden she turns.
She walks on but shuffles,
as if something's missing,a scene or a song?
He looks at her face,
and the scene melts in beauty,
the songs he can write,
and make it so perfect.
He looks at the world,
then the world of his own,
only to look back,
its better where she belongs.
He.

She smiles deep inside,
The day,oh so good it is,
as she walks out of the house,
None walks right past out,
a smile none gives,
like none knows her soul well,
and her day begins.
Then she goes along,bubbly than ever,
and enters the park,
through the trees and the shadows,
with a pad,a pen and headphones on,
she looks around,
Sun touches her skin,
and golden she turns.
She walks on but shuffles,
as if something's missing,a scene or a song?
so she sings along,
to make it so perfect,
like none was hers,
as she dreams of.
She.

He thinks its time,
he must tell her the truth,
and shall ask her if,she thinks he's worth.
And he stands up to walk,
to do what he shall,
or to do what he must.
He walks up to her,
and speaks to her back,
of what he feels,
maybe more than he shall,
and speaks of the scene,
and the song of his heart.
But she turns around,
with tears in her eyes,
and sobs and she runs,
away from the world.
He watches her leave,
he looks at the world,
then the world of his own,
and doesn't look back,
its better where he belongs.

She walks through the lake,
and across the park,
and goes on to watch,the birds flying around.
She turns around the fountain,
only to find it all flip,
as she watches one,kiss none's upper lip.
She sinks into vacuum,
and stands deep in the ground,
when she hears up a whisper,
as if someone speaks behind her back.
Her throat,it goes silent,
and so do her ears,
the only thing that speaks,
are her eyes and her tears.
She turns around and she sobs,
as she sees him standing there,
as if he's waiting for someone,
or maybe waiting to hear.
But she's too numb to judge,
as she runs off away,
away from the park,
like a waste,like a stray,

He still waits in the park,
for her to come and answer,
what made her cry,
or made her run.
She still waits outside her house,
for none to come out,
and to face none's eyes,
to fight,to question,to shout.

Some roads,they are meant,
to go two separate ways,
but they do meet at a point,
before they part ways.
You may say they come and meet there.
You may say they go apart from there.
You may say what seems right,
to you.
For things are meant to be known,
but we all assume.

The story doesn't end,
and it shall go on,
till he shall write,
till she shall mourn.

In the night,before he sleeps,
he thinks of her,
and looks at her picture.
In the night before she sleeps,
she thinks of none,
and looks at none's picture.

Two souls and two hearts,
could meet or could part,
its a pity it didn't work out,
its a pity it didn't work out.

Sunday, 6 January 2013

Daydream


To walk around,on a winter night,
such pleasure in pain,such warmth in the rain,
the fog,oh!it calms my sight,
for it reflects,what I am inside.
and yes,that's why,i hate the clear sky,
for the soul I hide,is so traumatized,
like a little spoiled kid,it loves to lie,
and loves to hate,and loves to chide.
been a while,been a while,
since the spring of Rome,
too far,too hard,
but we'd come back home.
do I shall,yes i will,for the words are not where the wisdom lies,
the stories I tell,timeless but true,
aren't tales of the kids,or the books of the wise,
but the words of all that I've been through.
i speak tonight,not to wish,not to hope,
but to wake my soul up from its somber sleep,
but if you asked,I'd wave it off,
for the wounds,they run,way too deep.
I'd speak what I need,but they wont believe
for like a disembodied shadow in a dying flame,I've began to rive
but I await her again,to love me and leave
just to see if my heart's still in there,alive.

Friday, 26 October 2012

!

Through the creep of this silent night,the footsteps of imagination shall be heard aloud.

Monday, 23 July 2012

Insanity

Sanity is a closed room.Insanity is everything outside.And it all comes down between luxury and freedom.
Never be ashamed of your insanity.Embrace it and make it beautiful.Someday it will make the sane look up and regret for not breaking free.

Friday, 25 May 2012

i see hope.


when she looks back,and waits for me to hold her hand and help her cross the road,
i see hope,
when she holds my hands tight,and ripples her fingers through mine,
i see hope,
when she brushes her hair away from her forehead,and looks into my eyes to never look away,
i see hope,
when she digs her head in my neck,and hugs me hard,too scared to let go,
i see hope,
like the wind she sways,into my arms she falls and stays,
like a little girl she plays,like an angel my name she says,
she floats like a cloud,she walks like a queen,
she runs like a wave,and stops like a scene,
her eyes speak,like i wish my poems would,
her hair fly,like i wish my paper plane thoughts could,
i remember her smell too,and so does the river which froze with her fragrance,
i remember her voice yes,and so does the cuckoo who envies her with vengeance,
when she walks up to me,and whispers in my ear,that she loves me,
i see hope,
when she rests on my shoulder,and kisses me on my lips,so gently that my heart leaps with joy and sinks knowing the moment would be over soon,
i see hope,
yes,i see hope,
hope that when i wake up from this dream one day,
this story would be real,and she'd be mine.

Saturday, 19 May 2012

And one fine day.


And one fine day,
i'll tell you what it feels like,
to travel fifty miles everyday,
to stand in a forty degree sun for hours,
to count the number of puffs i smoke,just to make it more fun,
to walk around in the rhythm of the traffic that surrounds me,
to watch the birds in the sky fly in a pattern,and see them fly away,
to watch the dogs sleep on the pavements,
to watch the airplanes come and go,from,and to,different places.
And one fine day,
i'll tell you what it feels like,
to do it all,
just to see you come out of your college gate,
once.

Friday, 11 May 2012

A Dreamer's Diary

And just another monday came..
He was late,like always,but he couldnt care less..
Alarms,for him,were always a mess..
He swooped out of his luxurious bed..
So luxurious,that people would kill for it..
Dressed up in a while,and walked out..
Of his multi-million pound mansion..
Towards his wheeled mean luxury machine ..
His world of immense luxury..
The world he had always dreamt of..
When he was young..
When he used to pass the villas of the super wealthy..
On his tattered motorbike..
Short of money,short of trends,
Short of friends..
But not short of dreams..
And he dreamt of luxury..
When he was young.
Grooving his car,he smiled to himself..
Remembering his old days..
And as he passed his garage..
He looked around to seek a glimpse..
Of his old tattered motorbike..
Kept like an aged queen.
He drove into the city..
Where people ran after him..
A star he was,a young tycoon..
He ruled this city's midnight..
He ruled this city's afternoon.
He donned the most expensive suits..
And smelled of the most exotic scents..
With an air of gods,he walked around..
They called him the player of the royal kents.
A life of fame,and a life of class..
He was everything everyone wanted to be..
And when his wheels drove past the lanes..
He saw women peeking around,for just a look of him..
He went to the biggest of the clubs..
And swam in the prettiest lakes around..
He flew in the best of the chartered flights..
And escaped in the valleys of richest safaris.
In all the parties,he was huddled around..
And girls would wink,on every sight he left free..
If he'd want,for his pleasure and lust..
He couldve waved his hand,and all would come..
Just to be with him once,to touch him,to smell him..
But he never did.
A magnificent life,he lived they said..
A brilliant dream,he reaped they said..
But they didnt know,at the end of the day..
He drove back home,to be home alone..
Sipped some wine,with no one to cheer it with..
He looked out of the window,and saw his life revolve..
And looked around,at his luxurious dome..
And remembered the day,she left him back on his own..
And he earned the world,to replace the seed she'd sown..
But now tonight,and everynight..
He wondered and thought,if it could,or might..
Replace the heart,he dumped which in the ground..
And is it all worth,of not having her around?

Friday, 4 May 2012

the never ending hope


ust like a young kid would see..
up at the sky,towards the clouds..
searching for the shapes..
of birds,of things,of gifts,of dreams..
i've looked at this world,towards the people..
searching for the hope..
of satisfaction,of redemption,of love..
but clouds,they fly..
to never come back..
and i look up to find,something new everytime..
and why should i cry for the bygone clouds..
but then i know,the shapes of hope..
went along and flew..
its like the star,that i saw one night..
and i watched it shine,with awe and fright..
awe of love,and the fright of loss..
to be lost in a thousand stars..
but the star is bound,by the night that holds it..
maybe it wishes to fly free..
but cant,its just another star,and the night its queen..
i wished that star,eve if somewhere up and above..
would break apart some day and fall..
to be free of the night..
to be on its own..
to be away from all of it..
and that someday,i'll see the star,not losing it in a thousand others..
and when it would fall..
it will be my wishing star.

Thursday, 26 April 2012

Not just another crossroad

Through the woods,and through the storm..
Through the sands,and through it all..
On these roads,and off them on..
Been running through,all along..
Looking for a ray,a ray of hope..
One of these days,to find what i've sought..
A journey its been,a long one yeah..
But never once,no,did i choose to stay..
Crossed over those places,
The rivers,the greens,the mountains,the scenes..
And people with faces,and the faceless beings..
But walked and walked,waiting for the sky to break..
Putting it all,and all on stake..
But today i'm stopping here..
On these crossroads..
Long awhile its been,a little tired,
going back to everyone,to help them walk..
But today on these crossroads,
I want to stay..
Stay,just to see..
If you'll come back for me.

Wednesday, 11 April 2012

the story of a toy

sometime back,a random night it was..
i slept for too long,and woke up in a dream...
in a city unknown,i stood alone..
and i walked towards the city stores..
i was scared at first,for what the place could be..
until i heard someone say,"you're safe,and would be"..
i stared around,to see who had spoken..
but i saw none..
except..
a toy in the window of a toy store.
it looked alive,but not pleased..
it seemed satisfied,but not at peace..
i went up to it,in hope and in doubt..
to ask what he meant by what he said..
and that was when i heard..
the story of a toy.

"i was born in a land,
far off in the west,
they called me the piggy,
said i was the best.
they said my destiny laid,
in the far off lands,
and i was brought here one day,
given in the store hands."

i listened to the toy,and i wondered why,
he lay in grief,what could make him cry!
i asked him why,he was what he became,
for a toy being sad,is a real shame.

"i've been in this store,for years now,
moving in and out,and wondering how,
kids come and go,in and out of the store..
they see me,they smile,
they laugh,they cry.
and one fine day,
someone would like me,enough to buy.
they'd play with me,
they'd live with me,
they'd laugh with me,
they'd share with me,
till the day they've played enough,
they'd grow up,and they'd find me a bore.
they'd throw me away,
and the store would take me back,
to redress me,
and replace me on the stack.
for someone,someday,
would come again,
to play with me,or to own me again.
for them i am just an option,
out of a hundred toys.
on their need,m played with,or kept alone on the wood,
or embraced in love,or thrown out of the door.
but i would not complain,for i never could,
for i am just a toy,and thats what toys are made for."

Friday, 6 April 2012

paper feelings.

on a certain day,in a certain year..
i was sitting out,in my rocking chair..
with a writing pad,i looked around..
i saw two men fighting,over half a pound..
to my right,in a certain house..
i saw a lady,fighting with her spouse..
talking on the phone,i heard her sigh..
when she turned around,i saw her cry..
a moment later,across the road..
stood an old man,in a heavy coat..
looked pale and sad,as if he questioned life..
i heard people say,he had lost his wife..
walking on the street,a labourer with a fallen head..
he had worked hard,to earn a little bread..
though he had earned enough,to feed his son..
but thats all he had,he'd sleep a hungry one..
as i felt around,this exploded pain..
people expressed it,even though in vain..
and here was I,so helpless there..
I could never speak of,neither pain nor care..
on the paper though,i laughed,i cried..
the emotions which,people thought i'd hide..
i wrote them down,in the dark,in the light..
coz m just a writer,i can only write.