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. 

Green Sandals

At times I fail to comprehend the world inside me and even the one outside. This piece of text speaks stupidly of...umm...dunno..maybe of a kind of abatable nuisance.

A token to extend..
That thing to walk on a land..
Give me my green sandals back.
Now when you have taken my wings away,
Gimme my Green sandals again.

I cannot always linger.
I cannot keep dangling around,loitering around.
With Daffodils my feet are bound..
Gimme those Green sandals now.

Enough of presents showered..

Tons of strawberries eaten..

Now left on earth..

I would need those Green sandals.

Stories of lavish existence..

will ponder ever over me.

For things I heard, I stargazed but neva' seen,

I call for a pair of those, I'm utterly keen.

Give those sandals..and that color Green.

Baithe Baithe

"Zindagi ki talaash me,

Kahan se kahan aa gaye.

Jab dekha to ghabra se gaye,

ki maut ke itne kareeb aa gaye."

"Aankhein khuli thi meri marne ke baad bhi..

Aankhon ko aadat jo thi Intezaar ki."

A Pause

Aur phir yun hua
Raat ek khaab ne jaga diya !

Now her hopes reach a stage where she gets a nomadic feeling lately.

Her days started coming and going away AWAY unshared, unspoken.

An insignificance rules over each deed and thought.

phir yun hua..

She awaits a moment to come that could take her with it deliberately.

She intends to pen down stuff,

believing that the best portion of her life would not fly unwritten or rather undiscovered.

But it seems the definition of best is not known to these dying moments.

Soil is the only one that changes its smell in rain.

She has been unvarying for a while and she wonders when this sky would cry,

then it would rain on her.

Connections to solitude.

Build up monologues.

Desultory thoughts.

She belying herself.

Phir nahi so sake,

ek sadi ke liye hum diljale !