उम्मीद

१.
दिल के दिये में उम्मीद का तेल ख़त्म ही नहीं होता ।
डर लगता है इसकी लौ तुम्हे जला न दे।
पर अगर किसी दिन बाती ही इस तेल में डूब गयी तो ...

२.
थक गए हैं अब कदम।
कुछ देर पहले एक आवाज़ आई थी, लगा की बस आ रही है।
बहुत राहत मिली थी दिल को,
कितनी देर हम बस स्टैंड पर खड़े इंतज़ार करते रहे।
नहीं आई वो।
फिर चल पड़े हैं...
फर्क सिर्फ इतना है कि अब अँधेरा छा गया है,
उम्मीद का सूरज जो ढल गया कुछ देर पहले।


PS: Few random archived compositions from my mobile

new paintings

He is a dreamer, loves to imagine and then brings his fancies to the canvas. Have you ever watched him making one...

..starts with a blank canvas but filled mind. Mind filled with thoughts with which he wants to change the way this canvas in front of him looks. In a short while there are random lines-the light ones, which don't make sense to observer like me. At times he erases a few and redraws them. You are clueless about what may appear. Then there appear some prominent lines which define the picture. Slowly you start seeing the theme. You are amazed by his imagination.. awestruck by the creativity.

He has started filling the colors. Some are already there. You enjoy guessing the remaining.. imagining. It becomes your pastime, wondering which part of the palette will the brush touch. You are desperately waiting for the picture to be complete except for the fear of any color being spilled and making a blot. There could be few small unwanted drops here and there but they complete the picture. Not everything is perfect.

Right now I am imagining.. and enjoying :) 

Sure enough these are not those glass paintings, feeble enough to break by wind strokes. Wishing to withstand all storms, with actual bonds.. bonds of love :)

अनकही

नहीं समझा क्या कहना चाहते थे हम,

ख़त लिखा भी था तुम्हारे नाम, फिर मिटा दिया. 

जो कागज़ पे आया वो गलत था,

और जो मन में था वो भी कहाँ सही था.

कुछ न कहना ही बेहतर होगा शायद .

कोरा कागज़ भेजा है,

हो सके तो पढ़ लेना.

a gift

Many a times we are looking for a gift for someone, we are confused and then we end up taking suggestions from people around. Even I have done that so often. But today I realised that the most special gifts for special people in our life come straight from the heart. Because what our heart knows no one else could suggest. Next time you are on it, just ask your heart. Go for any cute perky thing that might make the special being feel more special.

Though that might appear a kuchh bhi stuff to others, and you might not be able to explain its significance, but the one for whom it is meant will be not only pleasantly surprised but will fall in love with you all over again..

PS: I am smiling looking at ..

tortsie's froggu

wedding bells

Note: If you are reading this with hopes to hear news about me, then stopping now would be a right decision. I cannot precisely say what it is all about (you got to read it for that), but I can say what it is not about :D

So these wedding bells.. I can hear them all around since 2-3 months. Every other week there is a news related to new world. Some are entering, some are planning to enter and some have already stepped in. 

There is a fear.. and excitement at the same time. Long tense spans of convincing the elders.. Nervousness of adjustment with in-laws.. and then finally that smile one gets on the face, when you are there, for the most awaited moment.. which you always wished for, and you made it happen. I experienced all this on Gaurav-Manda wedding last night. And believe me it was a beautiful experience, to see someone making through all those tough routes. After all at the end, what you get is worth every struggle.

Numerous feelings passed through my heart and mind, while attending the function. I wish, despite of the things tightening at work, I can escape to hear some more bells. Anyways the special ones are still far away.. so not to worry. But there are few, which I can not afford to miss!!

So I was talking about weddings..I am hearing news about so many friends nowadays. There is so much of excitement in seeing all those friends, we have spent significant part of our life, entering into new world.. and at the same time fear and speculations, wondering about whats gonna be there in stores for own self.

Howsoever it is, I am sure God is gonna take care about how the moment turns out to be special in its own way.. after all every one has got his/her own definition of special.

Indian weddings add to the fun and beauty of the moment, attributed by the small-cute customs. In this diverse part of the world, every culture has got a different style of tying the knots. Here is a beautiful video among one of those.. which reflected how customes could be so eternally romantic :P Got to see it as a result of surfing too much over blogs. Sometimes I am glad that I do it :-)

Wishes and blessings all around...
Hoping everyone in neighborhood gets what they wished for :-) ;-)


PS: I am totally sickened by the speed which time is flying. It is looking too fast at this moment.. and i am not able to cope up :-(

sparrows in the balcony

..thoughts coming to mind, but flying away swiftly,
swift they are, as those sparrows in the balcony.

when i try to get closer to them, wishing to look into their eyes,
they are no more around..
making the balcony empty and isolated!!

words come knocking around my mind,

when i try to listen, wishing to hear their whisper,
they are no more around..
making me blank and quiet!!

fair Thee

every creature has its own distinct statement of comfort and ease,
but for a moment they reduce to same level, being the creation of fair Thee...

PS: click on the image for clear view.

she

A silent wish, her heart has always nurtured,
No one ever imagined how much it procured,

All of a sudden she could see it happening,
I am not sure whether that is true or she is dreaming,

She could sense it, you are moving towards her,
You might stay to hold the hand or as any other stranger cross by her.

Who knows what divinity has kept in her store,
Whatsoever way it turns out, she will lore.

Only she could do is sit by the shore and wait,
Wait for the waves to touch her and prate.

But this wait, she asks me, is it going to be easy,
Talks between waves and wind are making her crazy.

If she is dreaming, end it before it turns into a nightmare,
Shake her and wake her up right here.

I could feel how scared she is,
But even I am helpless in this...




PS: 1) These thoughts, about her, have crippled my mind since a week or so. After 2 failed attempts of penning them down (one in UVN’s and the other in GBM’s) finally I managed to do it. Hope now I could concentrate on work; as for now, brain is no more in shackles.

PS: 2) I hope anyone who reads this doesn’t feels like kicking me for the silly frame it is in.

बादल

वो जो फिरता अकेला है,
लगता सबको आवारा है।
पर हो जैसा भी,
है फलक की रौनक यही।

कभी सूरज कि किरणों में खिल उठता है चेहरा उसका,
फिर इठलाता रहता है यहाँ वहाँ।
कभी चांदनी में भी दिखता है गुमसुम सा,
रहगुज़र कि तलाश में करता है सफ़र तन्हा।

दूर देस से आई बदलियों कि टोली जब लगती है अपनी सी,
तो एक ही पल में घुल जाता है इनमें।
पर अगले ही पल होता है एहसास, कि ये तो नहीं है मंजिल उसकी,
वो बूंदों के कतरे नहीं हैं हमजाद उसके।

तलाश है उस ज़मीन के टुकड़े की,
जिसमे समाना है इक दिन उसको।
खुदा ने बनाया है वो ज़र्रा भी,
ये यकीन तो है उसको।

आयेगा वो पल, जब ख़त्म होंगे इंतज़ार के लम्हे भी,
बरसेंगी बूँदें, और मिट जायेगा वजूद उसका भी।


PS: Saw this small little cloud in the evening; it was shining bright with with setting sun's reflection. Then it went away somewhere; but it kept on strolling in my mind. I found myself so much like this cloud. May be there is no difference in life of objects there at sky(cloud) and those at earth(me).

कुछ बातें

कल रात, हम भी कुछ बातें कहना चाहते थे तुमसे,
वो बातें कुछ से कुछ ज्यादा हैं, इसका एहसास तब हुआ
जब एक ही पल में लफ़्ज़ों की ईमारत बन गयी मन में।

पर शायद वो कच्ची मिट्टी की बनी थी,
कुछ ख्यालों के तेज़ झोंके भी नहीं झेल पाई।

ढह गयी है वो ईमारत,
खो गए हैं वो लफ्ज़,
और उसके मलबे में कहीं दब गयी हैं वो बातें, अनकही सी...

spirits at a night

i am not unaware of the stillness around me. it has always been there in some or the other form. despite of this stillness, my spirits are lively today. may be not yet out of the happy and gay mood of evening. but they haven't got a creature to accompany their silent sounds; except for this fan with its hoarse voice still evenly uttered words. as i am unable to entertain them any more, they are leaving for their celestial home, with a promise to come back riding on the sun's next ray. they need to fly, so they have left their heaviness on my visuals.

they are away now, and what is left behind is a dead corpse with some unfinished talks and some unturned pages beside it.



PS: its a white noise series generated after the merriment of annual gathering and while giving company to someone who was getting bored.. you may guess the extent of irritation one could be in after reading this .. would have been better without my help na.. :|

खयाल

आते हैं हर पल और चले जाते हैं...

कुछ उड़ जाते हैं हँसी में,
कुछ निकल पड़ते हैं बातों की अनजान गली में,
और कुछ डूब जाते हैं आंसुओं की नमी में।

बिल्कुल जैसे sublime होना पढ़ा था chemistry में...

लेकिन कभी कभी रह जाते हैं पीछे कुछ कतरे उनके अनकहे से,
फिर शुरू होती हैं दिल और दिमाग की गुफ्तगू इन कतरों के सहारे।

अगर वो होती है nursery में बैठे बच्चों की बातों सी,
तो लगती है प्यारी बहुत।
पर अगर वही दिल-ओ-दिमाग की गुफ्तगू
बन जाये चौराहे से गुज़रती गाड़ियों के शोर सी,
तो फिर चुभती है बहुत ...



PS: Got some of them during a short while..

1) a positive khayal.. i m not the most angry/ impatient/ arrogant/unreasonable being on planet earth.
God has made people worse than me.. :)

2) a negative khayal... i m good for nothing.. :(

3) and a neutral khayal... studying for GBM always leads to some such weird thing.. :|

a shadow

dancing all around me,
crawling to get long and short,
imprisoned in life of two-dimensions, lying down they are,
unable to get up and hold a hand,
because Shadows they are.

always black as mourners,
devoid of the spectrum of joy,
with an always changing geometry,
quite and expressionless, still alive,
because Shadows they are.

sometimes walking ahead,
or may be trailing behind secretly,
diminished at times,
yet trying hard not to leave him alone,
because a Shadow it is.

it knows he hates being alone,
but Darkness is ignorant of the lone,
takes that shadow away,
letting in another shadow,
a Shadow of Darkness.



PS: I am totally innocent; this random permutation & combination of words is due to sum of squares of random errors in brain, caused by uniform integrability and martingales.. :P

बेफिक्र बचपन

तेज़ क़दमों से बढ़ चले थे छोड़ कर पीछे किसी गली में इसको,
जल्दी में थे तब शायद...

अब जब कभी मुश्किल लगता है दुनिया के साथ चल पाना,
तो ढूंढने निकलते हैं...

पर अब रस्ते बदल गए हैं और उन गलियों के निशान भी नहीं दिखते,
राह खो गयी है कहीं...

कभी कभी वो आकर अपनी झलक दिखा कर कहीं छुप जाता है,
जैसे चिढ़ा रहा हो..

खबर है कि वो नहीं आयेगा लौट के,
फिर भी हम तलाशते फिरते हैं दर-ब-दर इसको...


PS: neither prose nor poetry, just a random generation of mind...
a mind which is totally perplexed in simulation results and and future options/derivatives..

they crossed

they crossed each other; or was it the case that their paths did,
and never did they..

PS: clicked @ Murud (Konkan).

फूल

उजले उजले फूल खिले थे,
बिल्कुल जैसे तुम हस्ते हो|
                     -बशीर बद्र

PS: clicked them at Open Canteen at around 8 PM.. :)

sleep

He who sleeps in continual noise is wakened by silence.
                                         -William Dean Howells

ग्लास पेंटिंग्स

ग्लास पेंटिंग्स बनाने का शौक था उसको, रंग ही उसका सब कुछ होने लगे थे। यूँही बनाते बनाते नजाने कितनी ही बना डालीं उसने। इतनी की चारों ओर बस वही दिखाई देती थीं। उसके छोटे से कमरे में दीवारें नहीं थीं, सिर्फ खिड़कियाँ ही थीं। हर खिड़की पर एक पेंटिंग रखी थी उसने ।
फिर एक दिन हवा ने अपना रुख बदला, और खिडकियों पर दस्तक दी। नजाने किस देश से आई थी कि उसे बड़ीअच्छी लगी। और उसने खोल दिए किवाड़ सारे। वो तो खो ही गया था उन झोकों में। जब होश आया तो न हवा थी और न ही वो रंग। हवा में खिडकियों के परदे ऐसे झूमे थे की हौले हौले एक एक पेंटिंग का वजूद ख़त्म होता गया था।
बस रह गए थे वो कांच के बिखरे हुए टुकड़े फर्श पर। उन टुकड़ों को समेटने की बहुत कोशिश की थी उसने, एक शक्ल देने की। पर हर बार उन्हें उठाते हुए हाथ कट जाता था, कभी कभी कुछ कतरे खून भी बह जाता था। और वो यही सोचता रह जाता था कि ये टुकड़ा किस पेंटिंग का है।
जब दर्द का एहसास होता था तो सोचता कि फेंक ही दूंगा इन्हें अब कहीं, लेकिन फिर ख़याल आता कि क्यूँ न एक कोशिश और की जाये इन्हें जोड़ कर एक मुकम्मल शक्ल देने की। इसी कशमकश में रह जाता था। पर इन कोशिशों में हाथ बहुत कट गए हैं उसके । सोच रहा था की अब खिड़कियाँ निकलवा कर पूरी दीवार ही बनवा दे। खिड़कियाँ न रहीं तो हवा की दस्तक का डर नहीं रहेगा।

सोचती हूँ की आज जब वो सो जायेगा तो मै ही जाके उन्हें समेट कर ले आयुंगी और रख लूंगी अपनी अलमारी में। पुराने निशान न रहें तो नयी शुरुआत शायद आसान हो।

और फिर बने कुछ पेंटिंग्स.. फिर बने कुछ रिश्ते..

wood

                There was never a sound beside the wood but one,

                And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground.
                                                                -Robert Frost

A DROP

Grey sky, bending over the greener earth due to the loads of clouds it just received. The wind which is coming from some faraway land, brushed away whispering something unsaid. Bringing with it the nostalgic smell of soil that takes heart back to old days. And there it is; the first drop that gently kissed the forehead.

PS: This was what I felt after the first shower of this season.



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