Marne ke baad bhi 

meri aankhen khuli rahi,

aadat padi hui thi inhein, 

intezaar ki......

- Euphoria

together

Solitary streets of yearning

silent drone of rickshaw

seeking companionship

A dimly lit mosque in view from the window

and a half constructed, abandoned plot

Two roads leading to normality

A night lamp and a solitary grilled window

a few lonely money plants

climbing up.

in vain

Parahoping

With warm woolen coats

Hope floats.

Grieve

Change overtook me,

so swift was the crowd 

i went along, turning back once,

maybe twice

A new destination it left me on,

i went along, turning back interspersed

never felt the need to grieve

Now i listen to that rhythm of our songs

that beat swelling in me

the songs of hopeful times,

of innocent love, of songs that i can only hope are ours still

and i grieve, drop by tear

for all that was, and wasnt

for all that will never be again

sooner than later

i will be whole again.

I move on to the future,

in the quest of the past that i will always remember.

I dream of jane kyun?

Why are dreams more real than actuality,

so real that one bad dream can ruin your entire day,

so absurd that one good one can make two days worth living.

Even when recollection fails you,

or when it refuses to.

What will you do, when you get out of the house,

determined to reach your destination

and forget the route halfway through

or just lose interest 

give up minutes from it.

Tell me

Tell me that what all that has transpired between

has not gone wasted

Tell me all the times when i believed that nothing was an accident

was infact not

Tell me that all the things when hungry for experience, i tried

were not a plan to test my morality

Tell me

that my faith in destiny is not foolhardiness

reinstate my beliefs,

for without them

i dont know if i am.

or if you are.

Tell me that all this world is not just a figment of someones dream.

Tell me that i exist

as real and consistent

as change. 

Tell me that you understand,

that all this, 

is just an excuse 

to listen to you.

2 experiments

Lets perform an experiment,

Experiment number 1 part one

raw material required:

1. an extremely curious or hopeful individual, or someone who has all the time on his hands

2. a plain solid rock

3. the power of speech 

net result

zero

Experiment number 1 part two:

raw materials:

1. an extremely smart and hopeful individual, with no time to spare for whiling

2. a plain solid rock

3. a hammer and a chisel

net result

a sculpture

actions speak louder that words ?

Experiment number 2 part one

raw materials:

1. an extremely smart man, whose actions speak louder than words

2. a dumb man

3. any hittable object

net result

a wound and frustration, followed by silence

Experiment number 2 part two

raw materials:

1. an extremely articulate man, who knows his stuff.

2. a dumb man

3. the power of speech

net result

a conversation bordering on intelligence.

and influence

the point....

actions speak louder than words....

when dealing with inanimate objects

The most exciting shade of blue

Writing has given me what i had hoped to achieve in art.

the joy of putting a picture together through words,

and playing with the various color palettes in peoples imaginations,

seems like a more exciting form of painting than painting a still picture on a canvas,

the endless possibility of the human mind can only be compared 

to the immenseness of a blank sheet of paper.

Now when a blank sheet is lying in front of me,

i wonder which shades to use.

the grey man and his colorful balloons sequel

We met him again,

the grey man with his colorful balloons,

and this time,

we made sure he did not disappear without his smile.

(an apology to all those to who take what i write seriously,

and an advice, in future, refrain from doing so,

just saves everyone a lot of madeup trouble.)

One should be careful with calculations.

Ones obsession with one's happiness,

can lead to many people being ignored,

except one.

Which is not a very good situation to be in,

unfortunately there are no non dust erasers for sour memories,

you see, if one does try to erase them, 

one only have one's fingers,

and the ugly black result of that, everyone knows, from experiences  in the 1st standard hindi notebook.

So, next time, when one is giving too much time to one person,

indirectly being obsessed with one's own happiness,

one should learn to look around and see who's watching,

and give them a little attention too.

The rewards of which one shall reap in later episodes,

in this big budget soap opera called 'Life'.

In short, one should be careful with their calculations.

the actress in me

i don't know which role i like playing better,
the bosses daughter
the timid one trying to prove independence with a vengeance
or the cheery, sob hopping from one shoulder to the another.

One more dumb blonde

On a certain uneventful Friday,

because of a certain uneventful incident,

a person becomes so dear to you,

the same dumb blonde, you so emphatically dismissed all these years,

the same punk, you couldn't bare to look at,

just because, an uncontrollable ailment,

shows how very vulnerable and human that Greek really is.

There something about ailments and humanness,

something that unwittingly binds, vulnerability and innocence

unconsciously, sympathy raises a greater quotient of affection,

why is it that, when the person is affectively ailing,

is when maximum affection bestowed on them?

are healthy people not human?

do they not deserve to be concerned for?

what does one have to do to get a hug around here??

umm........ fall sick, develop a neurotic disorder, demand it as repayment or just plain beg for it.

oh no, wait a minute, i did all those things!.......