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