Sunday, March 17, 2019

Until that day...



(Photo credits- policytimes.com)



And here we are today.
Today we celebrate.
Today we remember and pay respect.

Today we remember her journey. 
It was hard, it still is. 
She sacrificed everything. 
The struggle was real,
it still is.

The day she took a quill in her hand
and wrote her first letter; 
They gasped in disappointment, 
said it’s against the law of nature. 
When she stepped out, 
they robbed her existence. 
When she expressed herself,
even her breathing met with a resistance. 

And then one day, she picked up a sword; 
A lightning pierced through the dark sky.
Surpassed over centuries,
her whimpers became war cry.

There was no looking back. 
Jumping off a cliff, she kept marching ahead.
Died in a battle, over and over again. 
On her burial ground, civilisations were made.

And here we are today.
Times have changed, so are battles. 
But today we celebrate.
Today we remember and pay respect.

Today, for those who ask why?
It is for all those who came before us,
it is for all those who made our journey easy.
It is for her who still struggles and have to justify.
It is for her who still bleeds with thousand judging eyes.
Beyond our wall of privilege,
it is for her who is still fighting, for her basic right. 

Today we don’t just celebrate,
today we take a pledge to change. 
Today we hope, that humanity will mature some day. 
Hope that one day, 
world will not need a ‘Women’s Day’.

Until that day…

Did we find Him?




In the rubbles of destroyed lives,
Dried up tears in the little ones’ eyes,
When those legs ran towards thorny fences,
In the welcoming open arms, but mostly undecided faces,
In the guarded oval offices of self proclaimed peace keepers, 
Through the apathy of bystanders and the rage of avengers. 
Did we find Him?


Within the walls of the sacred structures,
In the colour of hoisted banners and tall sculptures,
Through the sermons of so called His believers, 
The code keepers and makers, 
In the act of those symbol protectors, 
Did we find Him?


Are we even looking for Him or is that just a pretence? 
An elaborate fable built for our own power games. 
Did we find anything when we searched within?
Through the arrogance of our cosmic criticality, 
If not Him, did we at least find our misplaced identity? 


Oh, HE may have found us but, may be just a glimpse of us.
In those extended hands to save drawing civilisation.
In the yellow bus carrying children to save future nation.
In those healing hands working at remote abodes.
Through the tall light houses built to guide ships home.
Our soul was humming cautiously in those songs of harmony. 
He may have found pieces of us, in the socks of hope hung by the chimney. 

Do you think may be, HE is  also searching for us?
Do you also wonder, how has been His journey? 











Saturday, March 9, 2019

Tu Sufi wala pyaar...




(Photo Credits: Thank you Hussain for being there at the right moment to capture this frame)


तू रुमी कि गझल है शायद, या शायरी गुलझार की
मेहफिल का कदरदार है या, इबादत कलाकार की.

तू बचपन के होटो पे सजी मासूम सी मुस्कान,
या है तू मिठी नींद के ख्वाबो का मेहमान.

किताबो मे ना लिख पायी वो किरदार है तू, शायद.
तुझे समझने  की  करी है इन लफ्झो ने इनायत

तू खूबसूरत, पर गेहरा सा कोई एक फसाना.
मेरा नही तू, शायद ,किसी और ही कवी की कल्पना.   

इस नाचिज की जुर्रत, या चहात सुफी वाले प्यार की.
तू रुमी कि गझल है शायद, या शायरी गुलझार की.

Saturday, February 2, 2019

No complaints. No demands.



                               Photo credit: Dailyhunt.in


And still they held hands,
just for a while long.
Universe that day knew,
how strong is their bond. 

They knew at the end of the road, 
they will choose different lane.
At the end of this day, 
they will not meet again.

He was so wrong for her
and she was not right either. 
Even on their favourite song,
they never danced together. 

But still they held hands,
just for a while long.
They were always friends.
Nothing more, nothing less.
They will always be.
No complaints. No demands.
Just one promise,
‘I will be there for you’.

And when they held hands,
it felt like being at home.
Strong coffee after rough day,
delightful company of known.
A well deserved vacation,
felt like peace in every way. 

Alas, they parted ways,
never to speak of it again.
But in defining life moments, 
silently spoke of other's name.

At the end of it all,
they will meet at the sea.
A ship from the fantasy, 
ready for a journey so long.
Footsteps on the sand,
disappearing in the time.
On the deck they will sit,
With whisky and their song. 
They will talk about the journey.
About life and life partners.
There is that only moment,
there is no time after. 

And then they will hold hands,
just for a while long.
Universe will be reminded,
how strong was their bond.

They were always friends,
nothing more, nothing less.
No complaints. No demands. 
Just a promise that was kept.
“I am here for you.”



Monday, December 10, 2018

Not today…






Someday I will find my peace.
Even in the things I dearly miss.
For the things that I never had, what’s the point in being so sad?
Someday I will come to terms with the half filled glasses and empty spaces. 
But not today.

Someday I will try to change what I don’t like. 
Someday I will find the missing piece of the puzzle or at least the dots will join.
I will chase the days and not dreamy nights. I will create smiles on their faces and not just word arts.
Someday acceptance will come at no cost, and “what if” will be amusement and not the path that’s lost.
Someday. 
But not today.

Today, just take me away. 
To a faraway land, where no one would know my name and where I come from. 
Where my fantasies would be realities just for a while long. 
Where I would tell my tales to bring smiles, 
where people would not read name tags but eyes. 

I would find my fountain of small joys. 
I would return home without needing stars to guide.
Someday. 
But not today. 

Oh not today. Today just let me be.
Right where I am with my random musings. 
Today just let me drift. 
Oh today.Just for today.

Monday, December 3, 2018

Almost





I don’t have a yellow umbrella. I did go to them with a blue French horn but they decided not to come to the window. I do take a peek from my window once in a while, maybe, just maybe…I socialise at parties with a ballot box costume, no luck yet. I am waiting for my Goliath National Bank building to happen; which someday I will point at and say-‘This is my creation’. I am almost there, but just almost. 

In this series of missed chances, mistakes and wrong choices, some wins and but most failures, nothings and broken heart pieces, do you know how I survived and what kept me going all these years? It was you Ted. 

You taught me to make mistakes even though I knew it was one; because I had to, to learn. You inspired me to still go on, to doubt and yet believe in everything. Even though Universe is too busy with important things, I still look for signs from it. Somewhere may be I will spot my yellow school bus or bass guitar and find my calling. You made me feel okay to be scared, to take chances and to hopelessly cling on to hope. 

There was a profound truth in what you said about beauty in the unfinished arts. And along the way I came to terms with my ‘almosts’, almost started loving them.  

I know one day a moment will come when I will look back and all the dots will be connected. I know one day I will walk into the classroom full of students and I will know this is where I belong. I know one day when I am almost ready to leave, I will find him at the platform with a yellow umbrella in hand. It will be your voice which will tell me to go and say, “Hi.”

Until then I am picking up every lucky penny, cherishing a locket as a sign from the  Universe and living in my almost…

Saturday, December 1, 2018

Inglorious Battle



Once in a while comes that day,
When Empire strikes and Death Eaters block my way.
For next door neighbour, it is just a Saturday;
To friends & family, I sound happier than weekday.

Little do they know, I am desperate to find a wand,
barely even holding lightsaber in my hand.
“Obi-wan Kenobi, you are my only hope.”
“Remember to tun on lights” Dumbledore, you once told.
But where are you two when I need you the most?

For universe this is a meaningless flake, 
But for me, my entire world is at stake. 
I know I am not a superhero and to call myself a ‘victim’ will be gutsy. 
May be a fool wounded by reality and locked up in fantasy?

Well now. It is just me. Nothing less, nothing more.
Deep breath. Count till five. Defying gravity, here I dive.
The only super power I hope I have, I bring it to my aid.
The false army of my vanity is already dead. 

Armed with only my pen and words, I conjure up the spell of thought.
On the scared home ground of ink &  paper, my inglorious battle is fought. 

Wounded. Beaten. Exhausted. Dishearten. 
I wonder if I want the day to end or begin again.
Because my tomorrows always hold a promise;
a promise of a new battle…
Curled up in bed, scrambling for strength
until dreams take the pain &  pen away-

Then again, every once in a while comes that day,
When Empire strikes and Death Eaters block my way. 

Saturday, November 24, 2018

Namma Bengaluru




I don’t know when, I don’t know how
But Bangalore became my own town.
Are three years long enough they asked?
Is my illogical reasoning strong enough they asked?

Of course I curse at traffic and wince at burning lakes
In the criss-cross of smaller mains, one step of change is what it takes.

Breath of fresh air at Cubbon park,
Weather changing like mood swings 
And rare sights of Gulmohor like finding a lost ark.

Stumble upon MG and 100 feet again & again,
Chickpet has its charm & Commercial lives upto its name

Darshanis & breweries side by side,
Pick your vice-Filer Coffee or Amruth on ice.

I don’t know when, I don’t know how
But Bangalore became my own town.

Oh, and the people…
Warm, welcoming, ever so smiling.
Showed me a place for best idli & kapi,
Invited home for local recipe. 
And some, just guided me to my house, 
when the stars were not shining…

Techies, poets, singers & writers,
Passionate art lovers, pet owners,
Start up strugglers & life jugglers;
Found them all at quaint cafes
They all had found something, in their Bangalore days.

From “gotilla” to “swalpa”, has been quite a journey;
From house to home, that will be some day.

Yes, you may miss the sea, chaat & ginger tea.
Beat of night, pace, free roads and structures 
There will always be something missing…
But it is Bangalore. It has something of it’s own yet just not quite there. 
A long way to go; but’ don’t give up, there is a pure lake somewhere. 

Are these changes good enough they asked?
Is my illogical reasoning strong enough they asked?

Enough said and enough shown.
I don’t know when, don’t know how.
But Bangalore became my own town...

Sunday, October 21, 2018

Beyond all the cliches…








It’s a mirage. Some claim to have found it, some claim to have lost it. But nobody has the first clue about it.

Never understood this love. But always wondered about it. Somehow I am never thrilled by the bond which is defined by the looks, habits, likings or convenience…walk under the stars, conversation over coffee, knowing all the favourites, shoulder to cry on, nostalgic dance, saving from misery; always felt too shallow an expression for love. These are just cliches. Shouldn’t this all consuming, much eluding, most searched glorious thing called “love” deserve a befitting definition? And much purer expression? “Always” said Castle and Kate while fighting together for justice everyday, Cap agreed to avenge because Peggy believed it was right, Leia stayed back for Solo to escape safely, Neo was born out of Trinity’s belief and a stronger was Will & Mac’s bond with the shared vision of purity of fourth estate. We saw them as tells of superheroes, dramas and mystery. But above all, weren’t they all nothing but the most profound love stories one could ever find? Shouldn’t this strongest emotion, which humanity so proudly claims to posses, born out of a larger cause than a mere attraction? 


At the world’s end, there is a place for you and I. Beyond the black & white, a shade of grey. Beyond the expectations, a place of admiration. Beyond all the wins and losses, a battle worth fighting for. Beyond all the labels, a true sense of being. Beyond all the cliches, there is a place for you and I.

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