Being in the silence

What did you hear in the silence?
Sound of the withering leaves or chilling breeze.
I missed to hear the thunder, for I was listening to the conversation between river and the rain.
I am sure you didn’t miss the symphony of the silence.

We captured the moment

You were there, far away,
Yet we saw it together
The full moon

I am an admirer

I adore her patience,
I admire her endurance.
But I dread the day when she’ll lose her calm
Will that be the doomsday?

The Door and Us

Often I sit at the doorsteps,
In the hope to find the door open.

You are always prompt in opening the door,
But only when I knock at it.

I wonder,
If it is you who keeps waiting for me to knock
Or is it me who is maintaining the distance with the existence of an illusory door

दीपावली

जगमगाती रौशनी में दीप मन के जग उठे
उज्जवल निशा की रागिनी बन गीत गुन्गुन्नाने लगे
अब न अंधियारे का भय हो और न सन्नाटे का डर
रुकना नहीं मुड़ना नहीं चलती चलूँ ऐसी डगर 

Celebrating the smile

Life is nothing but a celebration of smiles,
it is just that we choose differently
and different smiles to have our own celebrations.

The Same Rain

The early morning drizzling brought
a relief to the parching soul
after a few hot and humid days.
And so, I longed to see the downpour, the incessant one.
With a cup of tea in my hands, as I glanced through
the cover page of the newspaper, the news
read ‘the incessant rain continued to take a heavy toll in Southern parts of India’.
With a little discontentment, I kept staring at the droplets,
And I wondered if it was the same rain that was creating havoc in the other parts of my land.

The messed up mind

After a long silence in the unknown sounds and voices,
There is a storm, a deluge again.
Back here, my desk is piled up with scattered sheets and layers of dust
And so is my mind messed up with thoughts.
The strains of some chords entangled in the past,
And the struggle to move from future to the present,
Not sure how long will it continue.
I should now look out for some solace in the noises and piles around me.

Another journey

Amidst a storm of buzzing thoughts,
From within the fluttering leaves,
I see the rays of dawn,
A strange silence descends on me.
In that silent zone I hear a chirping bird.
A new dawn has come again,
and I am on for another year long journey

उड़ान

एक ठहराव सा है ये एहसास न था,
एक आस्मां भी है ये विश्वास न था।

आंख उठाकर गर देख जो मैं पाती,
तो पंछी सी उड़ान भर क्षितिज को छू आती

Being with Myself

Am I a little too demanding,

if

I ask to enjoy my aloneness,
I want to be with myself
I need to talk to myself,
I wish to hear my own voice,
I feel like looking into my mirror
I want to stand near my window
I want to walk alone in the garden
I wish to discover my own self.

Tell me, if
I shouldn’t be doing any of these.

Tell me, if
I shouldn’t be asking for any of these.

Wait and Watch

Wait, and Watch

Watch, and Wait


Wait and Watch
Watch and Wait

Tick- Tick
Tick- Tick

Time moves on ……
and life goes on …...

गुज़रे लम्हे

भूल जाने की चाहत तो हर दम है मगर, दिले नादान को भूलना आता नहीं।

वक्त की स्याही से सब मिट जाता है मगर, गुज़रे लम्हों का एहसास दिल से जाता नहीं।

शायरी

बिन बुलाये बे वक़्त आ जाना ही है आंसुओं का काम

हर लम्हे को जी जाना और हर अश्क को पी जाना ही है ज़िन्दगी का नाम

Her Voice

This morning I heard my mother calling me,
I opened my eyes and realized there was no one,
it seemed she had just left after whispering her golden words.

There was the fragrance of wet soil ,
With the signs of a distant rain I felt
as if a few droplets had fallen on my land

A little girl while walking in a moving train
raised her hand towards an unknown lady
not that she was hopeful of getting the support
but was sure she would get it.

The Lost Letter

The letter I had written to my friend, long back, seem to be lost in the way

in the wilderness and its serenity.

Let it be where it is,

For I believe it will reach its destination some day.

If not the one which I had written with my hands,

May be the one which it would have decided on its way.

My Unknown World

That was my ‘Unknown World’

It started as storm but ended in a soothing breeze

It was pouring, it was drizzling, but every single droplet touched my core

I had no fears, nor was I skeptical anymore

I was not weary of inquisitive eyes; no more had I any feeling of running away.

There were no belongings to be lost and no roads leading to any crossroads

Though away from the secure womb, I still felt its warmth and coziness

You may call it ‘mad’ but I felt that the ‘Unknown’ was known to me for ages.

Mirage

Like a sand particle

I never wait for a storm to uproot me,

For, a soothing breeze can sweep me off to another world.

I have no craving for drizzles and downpours,

A single droplet is enough to give the warmth of being with my land

Lull and serenity make no difference to me

For, I belong to the desert,

I can only think of a mirage.

Two questions

My mind was boggled to hear the two questions I was asked yesterday.

‘Who are you? ’ and ‘where will you be five years down the line?’

Is that so easy to know and explain who you are? No clue..

Is life so very predictable that one can easily know where s/he would be after five years? Are we actually suppose to plan so much in advance?

The Distance

Shivering, on a scorching hot day, I was sitting in the AC coach of my train,

Covering myself with a blanket and simply waiting for cups of tea, my ultimate respite.

Far off from the maddening crowd of cities, the train halted near a forest.

I saw outside my window, a couple, sweating and toiling hard in the sun

The lady took water from her bottle, I know naught if it was hot or cold
But her eyes were evident that the thirst was quenched.

Though they were very near to me, but the distance between us was enormous.

I was looking for some shield to block the ingress of the chilling air

And they were relying on a white cloth to impede the sultry waves.

Oblivious of my existence, they were gazing at my coach

While I was envisaging the distant dreams of those brimming eyes.

As the train gained momentum, the eyes also moved on till the train and the couple were out of vision

Eternity

My skepticism for the eternity of the word ‘eternal’,

May be it’s a mere perception, or for that matter a repercussion.

Eternal assurance, eternal promise, eternal invitation,

I have only discovered hollowness and futility to hear these

For I’ve witnessed the culmination, beginning leading to an end

Everything dwindling and disappearing in the air

Never ever to be uttered or to happen again

A feeling of eternity that was just momentary

At the Crossroads Again

I found myself standing at the crossroads.

Yesterday I was delighted to have picked up all the marbles that I left behind long back.

But today I was only left with the latest ones.

When I looked inside the stole I found them still struggling to settle down.

I never realize when did the marbles lying in my stole slipped away.

Owning hardly any of the marbles, now I wonder how would these have felt after being overlooked.

The art of keeping the ‘possessions safely’ isn’t an easy task it seems.

The staring eyes

I could only offer an artificial smile to the eyes staring at me,
Not for any offence but simply for what I wore on an occasion.

I was clean bold when another bouncer came from inquisitive eyes looking for an attire that would have drawn the attention of many.

My words just halted at the tip of my tongue, ‘what if I say I was least bothered to see any such thing’?

That reminded me of my father’s mantra, ‘You need to be presentable wherever you go’.

But I am yet to know which eyes to be followed,

The ones which may simply ignore me when I feel to be at the cloud nine

Or the ones that might praise me at a time when my own eyes might inquire …… who are you?

Nothing belongs to me

The bed will be owned by someone else who will reside here once I leave, it doesn’t belong me.

Everyone is allowed to use the pair of table and chair, so there arises no question of ownership.

The elmirah in the room had always been a part of the wall, so how can I own it.

Half of books in the rack are gifted by friends and the rest I would gift to friends, none of these are mine.

I don’t even remember which of the utensils my aunt gave me when I left her place, and which ones belong to my friends here.

The office chair keeps changing every day. I many a times tried to put a tag, but never succeeded. The chairs are intelligent enough to know that they only belong to the office.

The computer has been a real mess. Every now and then, new keyboard, new monitor, new battery, new CPU, none of these ever belonged to the poor machine, so let alone their belongingness with me.

So what is it that is holding me back?

Is it the fear of losing these belongings or the resistance to be attached to the unseen and the unknown?

The Lamp

My friend wanted to lit the lamp to curtail the darkness surrounding me but I moved away for I was scared of the heat of the lamp ....

Still in the womb

Still in the womb, I struggle
Tossing, toiling to come out.
Still in the warmth, the coziness
Secure in the womb.
To come out wouldn't be a birth -
It would be rather a resurrection.
The pain of labour do not bother me,
Though I wonder how to
And who would cut the umbilical cords.
For I have to pass through the process
Of detachment
Countless, countless times.
Once I am through, I hope,
I will crawl, I will stand,
I will walk, I will run -
I will grow wings and fly away.

Walking down the lonely road

Walking down the lonely road there was a feeling of melancholy

There wasn’t anyone who could listen to my words

And no one either to share his words with me

This feeling of loneliness persisted till I heard a voice that came from within me

It said, ‘my dear let’s hear each others’ words’

You share yours with me and let me tell my stories to you

And if we do not listen to each other

The road would hear our words for sure….

For the road would always be with us ‘anywhere and everywhere’.