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Sunday, July 31, 2011

Haqeeat

Unhe yun masoom samajh kar main mohabbat karta gaya, 
Unke har lafz ko ibadat samajhta gaya, 
Aaj zehen me lafzon ka sailaab umada hai, 
Main behte behte yunhi hansta gaya.

Har sawal ek aina sa ban gaya hai, 
Jise dekh main khud ka hi putla banta gaya, 
Unka wo baandha hua sama, 
Har pal ke saath tanha banta gaya.


Ab is goonj ki haqeeqat kuch aisi hai, 
Ke apni hi niyat par main ghaav bunta gaya, 
Ek baar bhi peeche mudke na dekha unhone, 
Main najane kyun unhe sunta gaya.......

Taqdeer

Yun to samundar ki gehrayi bhi naap leti hai duniya, 
Zara is dil ke zakhmo ko naap ke to batao,
Haq jataakar jo aansu khoyen hain,
Unhe wapas lakar to batao…
Ye zubaan ek lafz ko taras gayi thi,
Un dino ki raunak ko lautaao,
Haq ki kyun baat karte ho humse,
Un zalimon se zara mera dil to le aao..
Karta hun bas ek hi iqtila aapse,
Mujhme wo nami wo nazakat le aao,
Kadmon tale jo kuchal gaye mere haq ko,
Un zalimon se mera pyaar to le aao,
Unse mera haq to le aao.

Thursday, July 28, 2011

What a 51st. I wish this to be 50th.

Its no achievement. I have not won the presidency. I completed my 50th post and I did not realize it. This is the 51st. And its gonna be so not like it.


What is a relation? A connection between two people? A mother and a son? Two brothers? Two siblings? Two friends? Two lovers? Professional relation? Relation with your favourite music? Relation with your favourite food?

You name it. Lets listen to my answer: A relation is anything, but fucking permanent.  Today, writing this, I sense deep agony. I sense crucification of trust. I observe denial by none other than one of my most treasured one. Not that its for the first time. I ran the same path some years back. The only problem is, the grief is identical. Five years back, when I met him/her, s/he was a kid. Totally unaware of the world, inside a shell that had to be broken for him/her to get out and spread his/her wings. I worked hard on that, showered all my love, all my commitment, included him/her in my family as my only brother/sister. I never had one. So I just couldn't keep a control on my care and love. In between all this, I fell in a relationship with a girl. She, as it gradually turned out to be, transformed into my life. I loved her like my breath, and went to extreme limits with my commitment for her. Alongside, s/he was also there, slowly transforming in my only younger brother/sister I know.

A man doesnt know when he dies, he only knows when he  is stabbed.

Today, that girl is no more around, and for that matter of fact, is in a relation with someone else, when she used to cry fortnights for me. For us. This, now affects me zilch. Because I have lived my time, my agony, all alone in rooms, with friends, with tears, with pain, on streets, with beer bottles, with failure in academics. I so have been there and done that. So now, it hardly pains.

And s/he, just said to me that s/he hardly cares about what I think. S/he, whom I almost "raised" with all my devotion and sincerity as my brother/sister, now shows me the middle finger. Its a classic case of children-abusing-parents case. And let me tell you, it slices through the heart like a dagger. I loved him/her like my own body part, like my breath, and what did I get in return? A slap of disregard on my face.

Today, s/he says s/he doesnt want to talk about anything anymore. His/her statements make me feel like a polybag. Like used furniture. Like rotten fruits. I really dont have the slightest of idea whether s/he has any realization of this. I crumble along this trust deficit to serve my pain. I drag myself through agony to still love him/her.

S/he may have got wings to fly. S/he may have got fascinated by the fanaticism of the shine of the world. S/he may have stepped out and met new people and made new friends. S/he maybe flying solo and happily, but theres one thing I think s/he should remember.


There was someone who didnt sleep nights giving you new wings and repairing your old ones. Never forget them. Life isnt sweet enough to be at your service with another version of them, when you someday decline. You will, be sure of that. One day you would need a shoulder.

And if you are totally "i-dont-care-a-shit" now, that fateful day, you would wish you wouldnt have been so cruel to them.

They would be in heavens, still looking onto you with love, whereas you would be the one battling. Or maybe repairing someone elses wings.



Monday, July 25, 2011

Haste

I turned over the leaf of my calender about 25 mins back. And with that I ended 24 complete hours. I ended, thousands of seconds that I let pass by, idling on the couch or sprawling on the bed. And all of this, suddenly has begun to pinch. Confined by the daily worries, we hardly seem to pay attention to the time we simply waste. For instance, being a readomaniac, my passion for books never died. However, these days I hardly throw a glance at the best releases around me. Actually, I hardly know any! And flipping over the calender leaf, I wonder. Why is that I dont have the slightest idea of the major releases? What is it that is preventing my to explore, to open up? To get out and reach for the skies?

The resonance of unavailability of time is deafening. And I want to learn. I want to read. I want to listen to music. There's so much of what I want. With every new calender leaf, a new haste begins. Towards terminating the haste with which life slams itself on my face.
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