जीने की आदत

जगा देती है नयी उम्मीद 

किसी बात पर नयी सी जिद्द 

छिपी इच्छा पे कोई व्रत 

जिससे हिल जाए कोई पर्वत 

नए संकल्प नया साल 

रंग लाता है कोई कमाल

काँच के गिलास में निम्बू पानी 

बड़ी ज़ालिम चीज़ है जानी 

थोड़ी शर्म और कुछ कुछ मुस्कान 

कभी मीठी, तिर्छी, तेज़ ज़बान 

अगली गली के उस नुक्कड़ 

कच्ची सुपारी, बनारसी पान 

अगर तुम्हारे पास पड़ा हो,

तो लौटा दो, मेरा कुछ समान 

किताबो में सूखे फूल 

बीते वक्त की कोई भूल 

थोड़ी अठन्नी बाकी चवन्नी 

और मिले मिलाये उसूल 

नया लिबास, नवेले भेस 

हल्की-सी पत्थर की ठेस 

कही आगरे का ताज महल 

और इण्डिया गेट की पहल 

कही सिफारिश कही खुशामद 

थोड़ा जहन्नुम, जरा सी जन्नत 

जो यही कही था, आज नहीं 

बड़ी बेरहम सी हरकत 

ये जो है ज़िन्दगी 

और यही जीने की आदत | 

MSD and the poetic end of the momentary ‘shayar’

There is so much the world knows about Dhoni, this will be so little to write about –

I bunked my Chemistry practicals on a certain rainy morning in September of 2007. The reason for it, made it worth the miss. In retrospect, it was a day to remember to witness something bigger than my act.

Indian Cricket Team had won the maiden Twenty -20 World Cup and had arrived at the Mumbai Airport. The team was supposed to reach Churchgate via road on an open roof double-decker bus.  And I, hoped to reach Wankhede before the team made it. I somehow made it in lieu of bunking the college. From the Vinoo Mankad Gate as the players started to walk to the dressing room, myself at a comfortable position could see each of one them pass by. Some exhibited their glory as they strutted past me from a distance of about 4 feet. Some appeared cheerful as walked without any pride – Dinesh Karthik was one those.

And at the end, someone without any bit of care in the air appeared and walked past with a smile as I looked at him in the eyes. Calm, composed, cool as a ice cube – Mahendra Singh Dhoni.

He didn’t seem to be so called captain of the world reigning cricket team. Neither did he appear to be representing one of the biggest sport played in India. No tantrums; neither façade, nor overt display of emotions. Among all the fanfare, he still appeared to be the person he wanted to be – the quint-essential finisher India has ever produced; the one who knew what his job was and did it very well.

If we go back to the era when India didn’t have a recognizable wicket-keeper who could also bat well when required, competing with Ridley Jacobs, Adam Gilchrist or Mark Boucher was distant indescribable dream. It were those times when Rahul Dravid, so the India cricket fanatics would admit, was being over-worked for his cricketing duties – of being a rock solid defence at number 3 plus keeping wickets. Then, all of a sudden Saurav Chandidas Ganguly legendarily emphasized for selecting someone from the East Zone who sported long flowing hair and was known to hit sixes. Thus, MS Dhoni announced his arrival against Pakistan in 2005 at Vizag, for the world to sit up and take notice.

As cricket fans we were relieved for the search of dependable wicket keeper batsman, never did we know that there was much in store. From being the captain across all three cricketing formats, Dhoni brought some things – unmatched in style and unseen anytime before. If we can exaggerate this to a limit to infinity; he had started to show that he kind of had a Midas touch. The cricketing acumen that he possessed was by far the best the world had seen. He displayed that his understanding quotient of the game was better than the opposition which at times outsmarted the best teams in the world.

Dhoni was still a human like all us. However, he showcased complete calmness on the field. His emotion free demeanor is what probably made him take a defeat or loss in the same stride. This was something which wasn’t seen into generation of cricketers before except a few. He made it look so effortlessly easy.

The act of hitting big sixes we must confess wasn’t something we hadn’t witnessed before. The Pataudis, or the Salim Durranis had pioneered it much much before. The thing that separated Dhoni from the lot was his ability to innovate. He popularized the ‘helicopter shot’ as they called it, and took it to the next level. He may be accused of taking the matches towards the very end at times, however his approach of completing the formalities with huge shots compensated all that. If Michael Bevan was someone with a reputation to finish games, Dhoni made sure that he finishes off in style and plays his shots which flew like a tracer bullet.

The Cricket Pundits may argue that he wasn’t the one the best technically correct batting persons, however they wouldn’t refuse to admit that he was the best in terms of running between the wickets. In 2019 World Cup game, he converted the 2’s into 3’s with Virat, and had shown the world that even this can be done. Well, this was certainly beyond normal comprehension. As a wicket keeper, he immortalized something which was a concept, to keep hands very close to the stumps for collection of the ball. Earlier this way of wicket-keeping was known to have done by the likes of Farooq Engineer. Dhoni got it back in fashion and made it trending for other to follow. Not to forget, this was most likely the very reason of the lightning fast stumping dismissals that he made appear - so stylish.

‘Carpe Diem’ they say, that is to seize the moment. Dhoni just personified it for all us. His exhibitions and histrionics on field were too heroic to even be described. One of those moments romanticized the happy ending of 2011 world cup for every cricket fan and made it a moment for a lifetime. Sunny Gavaskar once said, “He would want to see that six by Dhoni, before he bids good-bye to the world”. This explains it.

In India, everyone has their share of controversies which could be described endlessly on the usual evening tea with Marie Biscuits or on the Banarasi Pan Stall at the end of every street. Dhoni has had his too which couldn’t be forgotten. However, that should be kept for some other day.

Amidst the decorated career, if there is one situation that Dhoni could rewind and replay in his life it would that final run-out that happened at 1929 hours. Interestingly, his first one day innings was also a run-out; but for a duck. Some moments never do come back. That’s how life is.

If we can remember Dhoni today let’s do it for his ONE thing. If at all, there is one quality that Dhoni has surpassed to the next batch of cricketers is the ceaseless confidence. He gave a renovated dream to the hinterlands and smaller towns of India that they could conquer the world and he has shown them how as well – with pose and grace.

We may miss his typical 2 or 3 bat rotations before taking the unassuming confident stance. We could miss the quick running between the wickets. We shall definitely miss the sixes. The whole of Jharkhand shall miss, “Mahi maar raha hai”. And, India would miss the captain cool who patrolled the field positions from behind the wickets. Some day we had to. And some day we do realize, that day is this.

 

There is a lot of void in the heart of fans as they realize these are big shoes to fill. Some wicket keeper batsman would have to fill. This time the benchmarks have been set high.

May be for some time we would miss and remember these times whenever the Pal Do Pal ka Shayar song plays on our music players. That would remind us of the poetic end of the momentary ‘shayar’, as he called himself – thorough the song on his Instagram handle.

May be after a few seasons of the IPL we shall get on with habit of not seeing MS. May be it would difficult for us in the beginning of that phase of not having him in the playing eleven in blue. We would put on that habit eventually with time; maybe.

Sunaina - she had dreams in her eyes

Sunaina - she had dreams in her eyes

Sitting at Café Good luck and waiting for her food to arrive, she was in the middle of an interesting conversation. The atmosphere was cacophonic and there was haste in the air. The business was usual on a pleasant Sunday morning of late December. Speaking to her friends as always with a quick throw of words; as a quintessential chatterbox, she was deep into the discussion. This time the discussion was about her, by her.

“I am selfish”, she said. “I mean, I cannot explain..”, she retorted with a pause and resumed with an emphasis, “but I am selfish”. For a couple of seconds she looked for examples or better words may be. “Let’s say I am eating a packet of noodles, and I have to share it, and then I would end up having three fourths of the plate and leave the one fourth to you. You won’t do that, right? I am basically, that selfish”, she came back strongly explaining her point. The result of which was a moment of light giggles with a tinge of surprise to the way she had put it. Friends were all around and life was good. The world looked beautiful and here was she, in the middle of all of it.

On a quiet morning as she finished her video interview she had a lot of plans and day dreams. The things she would put in place if she clear all the rounds and gets the job offer.  The smaller issues of her life like paying the EMIs for the personal loan, sending money to parents back home in Dewas, or saving for any dreaded emergency ordeal begin to seem now easier as things were starting to fall in place. The bigger issues of her life - like getting the broken footwear fixed or say, what food recipe to prepare for dinner or getting the clothes ironed for the work-day looked out of place to be completed. She had worked through the ranks of a trainee; now gaining four and half years of work experience and making an informed decision of changing the job for better prospects. Somehow things were not clicking for  months on end. At a point, she had considered going to the holy shrine of Trimbakeshwar for some divine intervention in her interview process. She knew He was watching and He had some special plans for her.  The dice had begun to roll after 8 months of applications and attending the interview processes of numerous multinationals. At one occasion after the completion of all the initial formalities and 3 rounds of interviews, the position for which the selection was made had abruptly been closed. The lightning had struck once.

The next day at 2:24 PM, her mobile phone made a distinct beep sound. The e-mail application showed a notification regarding the second round of interview being scheduled two days later.

On the interview day, as the rickshaw drove through, from the gate of her apartment at Sus Pashan Road towards the Pune Bangalore highway she ruffled through the original documents and phtocopies she carried for the interview. Of course making sure that the interview call letter was not forgotten. As she was recalling the answers to some potential questions in the interview, the rickshaw was decelerating on the decline of the flyover meeting the highway. She saw a speeding KTM Duke breezing through her right side with an approximate speed 100 km/hour with a thunderous sound. At the next instant, the bike collided at the intersection with an Volkswagon Polo. There was a deafening silence of 17 seconds and it brought in a void in the mind, leaving aside all the interview questions.

Two hours and fifteen minutes later she admitted the person named, Yogesh Varshney in the hospital. After completing the necessary procedures, she made sure his relatives arrived to take care of the situation. She realized she had to make a choice couple of hours ago. She chose what she felt was right to her. After all, nothing is right or wrong. Eventually it is a matter of perspective.

She did drop an email to the interviewing company for the postponement of the interview. Her potential employer sent across a courtesy e-mail assuring the interview will be rescheduled. It never was. The lightning had now struck for the second time.

On the Makar Sankrant day, as a bunch of colorful kites soared high in the sky, she spent her day updating her resume and contemplating on the events of that day, looking out of the window hopefully.

She had  joined in the new company completing 5 years of professional experience. After the new joinee documentation was completed she went in to discover the taste of the new cafeteria and ordered a club sandwich along with a cold coffee. As she sipped in the drink, she recalled, that, in no time, the new calendar year had brought in pleasant surprises for her. Surprises add the essential spice to life, they say, and spice brings variety. The postponed interview was rescheduled one and half months later. As she came out of the building completing the interview, she shone bright as star in the sky.  The lightning did strike for the third time, and now for the good.

On the other end of the cafeteria, Yogesh Varshney, Senior Manager, Recruitment Team was having a tea break with his colleagues discussing the knock played by Rohit Sharma on a flat Motera wicket against the South Africans.

That day - she came home with a heavy heart– a heart full of many little things. Of little joy, of some sense of achievement, with some more satisfaction and a lot of hope. Hope is after all, not a bad thing. She looked in to the mirror for a moment and a recap of last few months passed before her.

Sunaina, her name, wasn’t just like that. She had dreams in her eyes.

Something comes, something goes

Something comes, something goes

Something comes
Something goes
With whispering sound
Life echoes.

Voices that were heard before.

The day passes
The night stays
Taking back to the
Older days.

Like a retired sailor on the shore.

Shade stops
Rains continue
The sky drapes in
Unseen hue.

Not that the peasant asks for more.

One agrees
As other would resent.
Coming to terms with
What they meant

Asking eventually to their heart's core.

चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं

शहर की हदो से ज़रा दूर जब थोड़ा सैर सपाटा किया, तो एक और जीने की आदत हात लगी; जो आपके और हमारे जिंदगी से बहोत अलग थी |
वही पे कही, दादी माँ से मुलाक़ात हुई, कई मिनटो तक बात हुई.. और हां ये तस्वीर याद रह गयी....!!


चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं 


सूखे पत्ते, थमती बरसात की कहानी
और चेहरे पर ये निशानी
कुछ मजबूरियाँ थी
चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं

बुझते दीपकों की है जिंदगानी
और कोशिशे करती रहे लौ दीवानी
पर कठिनाइयाँ थी
चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं

आधा बूँद गगरी, या ना बरसे है पानी
कोई सपना हो हकीकत, या दुनिया फ़ानी
दो कहानियाँ थी
चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं

तरसे खुशियाँ, लाख मुश्किलें हो आसमानी
मुस्कान चेहरे पर, आँखों में उम्मीद रूहानी
जैसे  बिजलियाँ थी
चन्द झुर्रियाँ थीं

थोडे त्रिकोण, काही काटकोन

थोडे त्रिकोण, काही काटकोन 

चवीनुसार मीठ अन् चिमूटभर साखर,
आणि जरा वेलचीचा गरजेनुसार वापर.
मनामध्ये असल्यास मनासारखे जर,
लज्जतदार गुलाबजाम जसा खरोखर.
   
केव्हातरी गुलाबजाम फुलत नाही बरा,
तेव्हा मुद्दाम घ्यावा त्यातला गोडवा जरा.

यंत्रावरचे बटण, बटणावर सारे खेळ,
सरतो काटा झटपट, निसटून जाते वेळ.
एखाद्या संध्याकाळी खावी चौपाटीची भेळ,
फोटोविना करावा तेव्हाच आठवणींचा मेळ.

कधीतरी भेळीमधली मिरची देती कळा,
तेव्हा घ्यावा खट्टा मिठ्ठा बर्फाचा गोळा.

आयुष्याच्या गणिताचे किस्से एक दोन
त्यात थोडे त्रिकोण, तर काही काटकोन. 

Time reveals....

Time reveals....

Time reveals

People's faces, 

distant places, 

tiny traces, 

and unsure guesses.

Time heals

Worldly sorrows, 

unseen morrows, 

problems above, 

and break-ups in love.

Time seals

in a way innate,

somebody's fate,

or pours success,

in someone's plate.

Time deals

with everyone's thoughts,

some scribbled dots,

few leisurely days,

and what the heart says.

Time feels

what souls desire,

the way they aspire,

how soon to tire,

and the belly's fire.

Good-bye wave

Good-bye wave

As usual I was waiting, for the signal to go green.

And the mobility of road, to regain its lost sheen.

The vehicles hardly moved, from a distinct place.

They struggled as they could, to attain a pace.

I was in a rickshaw, as a creature patiently waiting.

Seemed as I were an object, in a still-life painting.

Looking out at a distance, hearing sounds and cacophony.

It very well turned out, to be a rhythm-less symphony.

Suddenly appeared from somewhere, a girl, a little road-side girl.

Her unfortunate life and times, gave my thoughts quite a swirl.

She begged, asked for alms, so precious for her, though.

Regardless for me to give, yet I told her: No

I looked at her, who might be seven or eight.

She looked up at me, pierced my eyes straight.

Her face had a feeling, compulsion in her begging arm.

Her deep, peeping eyes, brought a mystique charm.

Something to pass to her by me, for her sorrows to relieve.

Nowhere did I feel, that a penny, she forced me to give.

She was different, I felt, not from normal human forms.

Little apart from the nature, of general behavior norms.

I didn’t understand really, what was she all about.

Her unique self before the world, just created a doubt.

A compelled void in her heart, yet a smile on her face.

Was what made me pensive, at that chaotic place.

Wearing a half broken smile, she stood silent; didn’t move.

Nor did I force her away, neither decided to move.

But, the lights turned green, the wheels started grooving.

That little faultless girl, wasn’t  at all moving.

I looked back at her finally, 

as how was she to behave.

Her same asking hand changed, for me, 

to bid a good-bye wave.

The turbulence

 

The turbulence

The seat belts were fastened and one glance over the right, his sight captured a bunch of sleepy co- travellers awaiting a reassuring session of sleep. The take-off was smooth, though the view from the window to his left apparently conveyed something else. Coincidentally the window seat had a wing right in front of it. The shaky drive through the fog in the skies of Jaipur made the wing look so vulnerable. In the dark of the night, was a two and half hour journey and a plethora of thoughts circling in his mind’s eye. Now that he wasn’t lonely, he did feel he was alone. As the aircraft soared up, up in the air, he got engrossed in thoughts deep, deep within – many thousands feet under.

“Excuse me, Sir” the flight attendant called out. When he heard that for the second time, he realized she was talking to him. She gracefully read out his name from the passengers’ list, and posed a question regarding the food preference. “What would you like to have, Sir? We have South Indian rice with Sambar in Vegetarian menu and Chicken Biriyani as non vegetarian food item”. Usually he wasn’t that bad a listener. He was a obsessed perfectionist for a peculiar attention to detail. But this time it was different - on a cold night, on a turbulent late night flight, and somewhat equally shaky thoughts, straight from the heart, he was kind of lost out. So lost out in the journey was he that he didn’t spare attention to the beautiful air hostess’s words. Making way through his array of thoughts, after couple of seconds he blurted out, “Can you tell me, what do we have in veg meals, please?”

As he looked out the window, the moment there was of turbulence - through the fog laden skies of northern India. The flight became a bit shaky at times. It was realized by those who were awake just like him. For a few seconds, he missed a beat and remembered God. So close to God he thought, he was. He looked to his right, the fellow passengers had been fast asleep. He looked above and then again to his left, outside the window, with a half broken smile. May be this was the second or third time in his life that he felt this left out. The last time when he felt so, probably he did not want to recall. A thought crossed his mind, if this night would be his last, or probably another day.

He sipped in the tea placed on a neatly arranged food tray. The first gulp of tea made him stumble as the much vapor state gave quite an effect to his tongue. He kept aside the tea cup back to the tray. And as he looked at it, he recalled she liked it served cold. Her regular favorite was ice tea.

After finishing his Café Latte they were about to leave the coffee shop. She had finished her veg sandwich. Surprisingly though, she was having a not so regular favorite; cold coffee, for a change. He was in an altogether different mood. He had made up his mind to ask her out that fine day. For that he would first have to put forth his feelings and propose his love to her.

 He remembered the day he had first seen her, in his second year of college. She was a year younger to him. These three years of togetherness made him so possessive about her. So comfortably confident was he, for opening up about his feelings to her. The way she spoke, her graceful walk, the anecdotes she shared was all his. Nobody could take these away from him he thought. The only person that could do so – was she, herself.

The shaky aircraft that it was an hour ago, had now taken control over itself. Now, on the tray was a finished carton of meal. Along with that was a wrapper of chocolate, a half filled bottle of packaged water and the cup of tea that he sipped a bit when the meal tray arrived at first. Now even the tea was turning cold. The turbulence had receded and the flight was charting its way down towards Mumbai. The landing was due in the next 30 minutes time. Amidst the turbulence, at 35000 feet above the ground, life had continued.

She had abruptly left the coffee shop, upon hearing his thoughts. She picked her hand bag and zoomed out of the frame of his eye, as she called out an auto rickshaw, and left within seconds. Was that the correct decision he thought, to express out his feelings, or should he have waited. He was stunned and shaken with her response that was uncertain and unknown. Not a word, did she speak as she left. On his walk back to their table, their 3 year long togetherness flashed in front of him. As we walked back, he saw she had forgotten the book she was reading, on the same table. The cover page of the book displayed “A walk to remember”.

The flashback

The flashback

On the terminal 1A of the Airport, I was trying to dip into what my smart phone had to offer. And I turned around, to find what my sight couldn’t believe. My retina had captured with its abilities a wonderful snap. Something amazing for my soul to come to terms with.

The hustle bustle of the airport, the cabbies buzzing through their cabs. Among them was an array of travelers trying to unload their baggage. People flew in like a stream full of ambitions, with their faces glowing with hope. Some of them came in with eagerness to fulfill their dreams abroad and few others to holiday out in leisure.

From a sky blue colored usual cool cab, appeared a girl with glares. As she put her left leg out from the rear seat, she came out wearing a Pink Tee, and Black Jean, she stood out facing the cab’s dark black glasses. As she got her bags unloaded, I got a glimpse of her. Much the same, beauty never faded with time, I thought. She looked eternal, timeless, although much time had passed since then. With time, actually, change did occur. But my crazy soul, as always, wouldn’t believe.

Among that flow of people she had appeared - from nowhere, absolutely. I was stunned for quite a few seconds. The vehicular traffic, the clamor in the atmosphere, and the haste in the air, nothing seemed to disturb me in those moments of me just looking at her. In fact, those 7 seconds, I was just gazing at her.

It was seven years since the last meet, and a huge wave of a flashback. The journey of my love just appeared before my eye in matter of Blitz Krieg - 15 seconds. And, the thunder struck, just as the love once had. A moment so blank, so silent, and devoid of special effects and the digital background sounds of a movie.  Yet it seemed more exciting as a romantic thriller. And unlike a movie it was more real, since it was Life. 

Following that quick encounter, I lost my sequence of thinking. The smartest of applications on my smart phone looked silly at that moment.  By now even the flavor in my bubble gum had dried away. Even that seemed worthless for its sole purpose of chewing.  I tried to blow it up into a bubble. But I couldn’t do it the way I always did. Even the simplest of things as blowing a bubble gum, seemed as rocket science extra ordinary.  I tried to check up with my bags, and they were around and assured me momentarily, to come back to the present moment.

She had pulled her wheeler bag with her right hand by its handle and another mini bag around her shoulder. In her left hand was her cell phone. She adjusted her glares from her eyes on to her forehead.

I took myself hurriedly with whatever bags I had, to a comfortable position to trace her.  On the chairs stationed, I got seated pretending busier than Bill Gates. But, my real intention lied in just having glimpses of her – in more continuity. I kept staring at her movements as long as my eye’s reach went. And she walked, she was just grace personified. She was good to get people’s attention even then. Now, even she commanded the same strange looks, I felt. She should only belong to me, I thought.

भूल गए है कही ज़िन्दगी का magic

ज़िन्दगी में अक्सर ढूंढते ढूंढते logic 

भूल गए है कही ज़िन्दगी का magic.. !!

करने की चाह में थोड़ा और dramatic,

हो रही है रफ़्तार इसकी थोड़ी सी tragic 

जो थी कभी किसी जमाने में classic 

हो चली पल पल जरा सी sarcastic 

बड़ी उम्मीद से निकल पड़ते है होके ecstatic 

खोजते राह आहिस्ते से तो मिल जाती है traffic 

fairy tale सी तो नहीं, फिर भी है fantastic 

ये ज़िन्दगी कुछ ग़मगीन, और कुछ romantic

थोड़ा खींच थोड़ा तान, बनके यु elastic 

बेफिक्र रहे, जीवन का सफर कटेगा automatic !!

From Ganguly’s t-shirt act at Lord’s, India have learnt to give it back.... !!

Sourav Ganguly, at the very famous Lord’s balcony, gave it back in style, by rolling out and waving off his jersey, after the winning runs were scored at the Natwest trophy final in 2002. Needless to say, he had retaliated in his unmatched way to Andrew Flintoff. Scores were settled and drama was avenged. India had just begun to answer back and aggression in the nerves had started to creep in.

India have come a long way, now. From being a timid test-playing nation who would be subdued and suppressed by the on-ground antics of the opposition, they had come a really long way. As India traditionally belonged to a defensive state of affairs, Andrew Flintoff’s t-shirt lifting act at Wankhede , Mumbai in 2002, bewildering momentarily. Until then India weren’t the ones who took notice of such display of emotions. They wouldn’t give much a thought, to get involved. And, there was an advent of new era in Indian cricket which introduced to the world, a much poised, very well calculated, smart and tactical aggression.

Before the early 2000s, there was incidents undoubtedly when India answered back dynamically. As I recall Venkatesh Prasad uprooting Aamir Sohail’s stumps and answering with no words, but with action. There were few other sporadic occurrences too. However, when the opposition sledged, ridiculed, planned a tactical verbal bout; and India decided to counter, that breed of cricketers were groomed post 2000, and its due credit should somewhere go to Ganguly.

In the recently concluded Test series in India, against Australia  in March 2017, there were many incidents where the two playing nations got involved. Australia were traditionally so much known for their verbal encounters. This time around, India were not the ones who were going to be just listening. The brand equity of India cricket had evolved. The face now belonged to Virat Kohli, which in a way, was trademarked by aggression. India played in style, whenever demanded answered back, got involved and gave a fight. The Australians would have got stunned by India’s change of stance and by the verbal retaliations. That is perhaps how the frustrations came out. The series ended 2-1 in India’s favour.

This again reminds me of Ganguly and the 2002 Natwest trophy final. And this goes without saying, India has learnt to give it back. 

Facebook याद दिलाता है....

Facebook याद दिलाता है आज-कल, दोस्ती मे पूरा हुआ सा हर एक पल,
मालूम ना चले, थे अजब से अधुरे, इसी बीच हुए जो कूछ साल पुरे....

अपनी दोस्ती को ये Facebook क्या जाने, हम दोस्त है जहाँ मे कितने पुराने,
हाथो मे Pencil, किताबो संग चले थे, वो 90s के दिन थे हम तब से मिले थे,
शुरु है सफर चल रहा कारवा है, गजब ये दोस्ती की दास्ता है !

आज-काल प्रेम वगैरे

आज-काल प्रेम वगैरे काही उरलेलं नाही
असं मला चुकूनही वाटलेलं नाही.

प्रेम आहे. आज-काल प्रेम आहे.
प्रेम आहे कारण....
फार दूरचं कशाला, दोन लोकांतच बघ ना,
भावना आहेत.
भावना आहेत म्हणून शब्द आहेत. शब्द आहेत म्हणून गीत आहेत.
गीत आहेत म्हणून गाण्याला चाल आहे. चाल आहे तेव्हाच तर संगीत आहे.
संगीत आहे त्यावरून आठवलं, Guitar आहे.
आणि Guitar वर अरिजीत चं गाणं कसं खुलून येतं.
किंवा "चुरा लिया है तुमने  जो दिल को" एकांतात ऐकलं की,
प्रेम वगैरे आज काल आहे, हा विश्वास अधिक मजबूत होत जातो.

कदाचित प्रेम वगैरे असं काही नसेलही,
पण प्रेमात असताना, आपण जे आता आहोत त्याहून अधिक Better होऊ पाहतो ना..
नकळतपणे का होईना, स्वतः वर आधी पेक्षा जास्त जीव लावतो ना.
गालातल्या गालात मना मध्ये खुद्कन हसतो,
लगबगीनं चालतो-बोलतो. अनेकदा बावरतो आणि याच प्रेमामध्ये सावरतो.
हे प्रेम आहे, असं  आपल्याला कळत नसेलही,
याच नादात केव्हा तरी स्वतः शीच बोलतो, अन वारंवार आरशात पाहतो.

प्रेमा मध्ये आपण कसे फुलासारखे फुलतो, आणि एका वेगळ्याच नशेत झुलतो.
म्हणून म्हणतो प्रेम आहे. आज काल ही, प्रेम आहे.

Yet another gaze

Yet another gaze,

From your hypnotic eyes,

Will drown me in them,

within all you comprise. 

And, land me in a deep trance. 

Yet another gaze,

From your searching eyes,

Will catch me at times,

with much of surprise.

And have me stumbled by chance. 

Yet another gaze,

From your questioning eyes,

Will pierce through me,

To get what your heart implies. 

And, have me wounded just by your glance. 

Yet another gaze,

From your revealing eyes,

Will traverse me in a dreamy world,

Which is lovely, sweet and nice. 

And, have me with you for a song and dance. 

Yet another gaze,

From your sincere eyes,

Is awaited by my longing soul,

When you will truly arise.

 

And, have me complete our perfect romance.

YOU

Like the dark clouds,

which predict the arrival of rain.

I can feel your arrival too,

with the longing and the pain.

And then suddenly comes bliss,

with the clouds having a fall.

Same as that, each and every time,

you make an unexpected call.

But now even if you don’t call,

I can feel you around me.

And I behave in my loneliness,

as if there you surround me.

About me, loneliness and my thoughts,

you may just seldom care.

Whenever you’ll need me,

recall me, I will be always there.

I am telling you this,

because, I can even now feel you.

The tapping of your feet,

the steps you take towards me,

this may happen at this moment,

O, may be or may not be.

And, then you’ll sit next to me,

I’ll tell you, all that I want to.

Believe me, its all from the heart,

each thing spontaneous, impromptu.

This way or the other, I think,

about you, every moment, everywhere.

And who in the world has time,

with reason about time to care.

I may look like a maverick,

but, I’m not really that mad.

I may not look smart enough,

but, I’m not really that bad.

The frequency, of my feelings,

that generate every second,

is genuine, like the word itself,

and frankly has no end.

The darkens clouds may shower,

in larger parts or just a few.

You think about me, or you don’t,

I’ll be just thinking about you.

Memories

So many years have passed, since then.

But seems as if its been just yesterday.

Though I remember few days vividly,

the rest are scattered and castaway.

Yet in the lonely timeless afternoons,

I ponder over, what’s gone by and past.

Everyone fades away in recap of images,

its me who remains in at last.

I go on to change the bygones,

the memories, possibly if I could.

Ah, they would not change nor move,

as if they are made from wood.

Now as they are, they remain with us,

to share with others and so on.

For what I couldn’t alter somehow,

I’ll just prefer to forget and move on.

I wouldn’t exchange those days,

with the illusions of west.

Or even with the mysteries of east,

because that’s the time, life was best.

Neither can they be traded with,

what are other worldly treasuries.

For reason that, the days are mine,

and they are my fond, lovely memories.

Is there any harm

Is there any harm,

to love someone?

And in return,

be loved by someone.

Is there any harm,

to be at leisure?

With someone in the woods,

and with our own pleasure.

Is there any harm,

to hope for the best?

Even when the morale is low,

and time is put to test.

Is there any harm,

to follow the soul?

When thinking from mind,

may not be the goal.

Something is new in my life….

Its for no one to decide,

what I am upto!

Nor about what I’ve been doing,

and nothing of going to do!

Neither the sky above,

nor the earth around.

Not a thing of silence,

nor the slightest sound.

Let the world stop its quest,

when I am at my joyous best.

Even I forbid myself

to contemplate on my plans!

Allow my soul to rest on future,

and as the time spans!

My life shapes out of my own hand,

and I smile at the castle of sand!

Something is new in my life,

about miles away from older strife.

Within my heart, I realize

a seemingly mystique boom.

But let me tell you,

its only when, love begins to bloom.

There lies a thought

There lies a thought ,

in a corner of my heart.

About a lovely girl,

who stole it apart.

The thought seems to grow,

day in and out.

Without a second look,

or a little doubt.

The thought develops further,

each night and day.

It compels my heart somehow,

to speak out and say.

Even when I write something,

or scribble a tiny dot.

About a lovely girl,

there lies a thought.