Under the Sky

And it is just another night that is passing by..

Thinking about the green grass on the other side..

About the things that would have been..

If a shoulder was here on which i'd lean..

Of all the words that I've learnt..

"You" is the most wonderful one..

And of all the sentences I've thought of..

There is still a one you haven't heard of..

In the glory of the moon tonight,

My eyes will eventually shut, senses subside..

But my mind wont stop wandering..

I would think of you in dreams and sing..

Under the stars i'd lay next to you..

When with ardent love you'll hum a tune..

And when ends a song or two..

With sleepy eyes..ill look at you...

I'd wait for you to look back and speak..

But you wont talk..and simply watch me sleep..

Real SP - 1

Dukh itne hain ki agar ginne baitho to subah ho jaye..

Taare gino to shayad phir bhi ginti khatam ho jaye..

Ro padu agar to aansoon bhi kam pad jaye..

Aur agar baltiyaan bharne lagu to pani ki samasya ka samadhaan ho jaye..

P.S.: Aftereffects of Satyamev Jayate !

Gently falls the Bakula - Sudha Murty.

Everything was very intense when i kept my first step inside the room. There was a smell of emotional tension. Hostility was in the air. The walls had frozen from the chill of cold hearts. There wasn't anyone to utter a word but the silence was squealing. The paintings on walls seemed nothing but mere wreckage. Some sort of silhouette appeared as the wood from cupboards was peeled off. A diseases wetness seemed to had covered the floor. It could give an inharmonious vibe to even the most nonchalant of people.

It was difficult to believe that humans had lived there..spending a life's time..bound to each others fate by chains unbreakable...building not the homes above the ground but digging the earth beneath.

P.S. : Now is a kind of those times when i think if these are a kind of those lives.

Bas Itna hi Hai Kehna

Jo kal gaya..kal na ayega..

Jis tarah aaj hai..yun badnaam kabhi na thi zindagi..

 Is lamhe par kya naaz karoon

Jab beet hi jane wala hai

Kuch pal ke liye kya muh modu

Jab pal hi mud jane wala hai

 Murjhata sa ye samay hai

Kal ko jjhad hi jayega

Is ghadi pe kya gaur karoon

Jo beeta hua ho jana hai.

Kal jab aaj rahe hi na

To badnaami ka dosh hi kya ?

Jis tarah aaj hai..yun badnaam kabhi na rahegi zindagi.

 Murjhati rahegi…guzarti rahegi..

Yun hi baraste rahega saawan

Yun hi kat jayegi raatein

Ankahee baatein kuch sochte sochte..

Yuh hi badti jayengi baatein.

Ek samay aisa bhi ayega..

There would come a time, the heavens will fall.

Nearer and nearer to you..luicidity will crawl.

You would peep’ and squirrels will dance..

The music will play and have its own trance.

Pillows will suck the sleep in your eyes..

Then you would grow up, watch American pies..

You’d use words lol n rofl...but no reason would be enough.

You’d sigh and let your heart out only with reasons tough.

There would b none to listen, none to hush.

Attend not to your chores or to your blush.

None would enter into your wall,

Days will pass by, nights will fall.

But the pillows will suck the sleep in your eyes..

You’ll be nostalgic n remember all your ties.

You’d not know whether a curse or boon..

Has all this been and if it’s not gonna end soon.

 Yun hi baraste rahega saawan

Yun hi kat jayegi raatein

Ankahee baatein kuch sochte sochte..

Yuh hi badti jayengi baatein.

 

Nicholas Sparks and the Ocean

Some days are too short..not even enough to remember the name of a particular character in a random old movie. The day ends and you remember the name only the next day early morn.

Some places gift you happiness for all times. Some leave you with nothing but nostalgia. A place that you love to live in has a past longer than yours. It gets hard to believe that the place you left has somewhere left somebody in despair and bitterness.

Stories that are too good to be true are seldom true. Other times they are simply beautifully told and artificially accepted.

Some people are too special to be with. Their presence in a lifetime is limited and after a while, either the person turns unamusing (yet too special) in one way or the other or simply walks out of your life.

There is this being who wants to be able to read music…the magical grapheme...aaaand its me.

There is this beach and a bench on the shore. A person would sit on it and read Nicholas Sparks. I will be that person.

There is this song..Spanish song which plays at the back of my head for all times..i don’t know its meaning…and so I give it a meaning of my own. And I listen to the lyrics which I want to listen at the moment. I listen to my own tune and there are a few who listen to my silence.

There is this empty dark street having a pale street light shimmering at a distant pole. It slightly illuminates the face that smiles at somebody. I am that somebody.

Some days are too long to end. It takes a lot to finish thinking about nostalgic places, beautiful stories and special people. It takes a lot to finish chores and seek a sound sleep.

There is this balcony where I stand. I hold the railing and stare at crescent. Simply stare and continue with that.