एक कहानी..

बात शायद उन दिनों की है जब मैं class 5th या 6th में था। पता नहीं क्यूँ लेकिन हमेशा मुझे सड़क के किनारे दिखाए जानऐ वाले जादू टोने या फिर किसी सपेरे के साँप का खेल या ऐसे ही बाकी बचकाने दिखने वाले खेल तमाशों का शौक रहा था। हाँ, बन्दर का खेल देखना मैंने तब बंद कर दिया था जब ऐसे ही एक बार एक मदारी का तमाशा देखते देखते बन्दर ने मुझपे झपट कर मेरे हाथ पे एक अपने प्रेम भाव की निशानी छोड़ दी थी। शायद आपके भी हाथ पे टाँके लगेंगे तो सारा पशु पक्षी प्रेम वहीँ धरा का धरा रह जाएगा। खैर, ऐसी चीज़ों की तरफ़ मेरा बढ़ता ध्यान देख के घर वालों ने मुझे काफी पहले से ही समझाना शुरू कर दिया था की ये सब तमाशे जादू वगैरह सब हाथ की सफाई होती है और शायद घर में सबका थोड़ा religious bent of mind होने की वजह से भी शायद मुझे यही सिखाया गया था की किसी भी चमत्कार पे भरोसा करने से पहले उसकी सच्चाई को जानने की कोशिश करो। एक १०-११ साल के लड़के को इतनी बातें समझ में आती होती तो शायद आधे नोबल पुरस्कार अंडर-२० मिला करते...सो भूमिका बांधते बांधते मैंने शायद आपको ये समझा दिया की मुझे ये सब बहुत पसंद था!

जहाँ तक मुझे याद पड़ता है, स्कूल से ही लौट रहा था। सड़क के किनारे भीड़ देखी तो मन मचल उठा। पास जाने पे पता चला की कोई बाप बेटे की टोली है और कुछ तो खेल तमाशे दिखा के लोगों से पैसे बटोरना चाह रहे हैं। शायद हमेशा से यही सीखा था की ये जादू, ये चमत्कार कुछ नहीं होता और जो लोग दिखाते हैं वो बस लोगों को उल्लू बनाना चाह रहे होते हैं, सो इसी वजह से ऐसे किसी भी खेल को मैंने उतनी ही skepticism से देखा है जितनी एक मेरी उम्र के बच्चे के बस में था। मुझे छोटा होने का एक फायेदा ज़रूर मिला की मैं किसी तरह इधर उधर से निकल के, सबसे आगे पहुँच गया। तब शायद वो एक खली गिलास में दूध भर जाने वाला जादू दिखा रहे थे। मैंने ये कई बार देखा था और शायद मेरे आस पास खड़े लोगों ने भी। तभी तो कोई सिक्के फेंके जाने की आवाजें भी नहीं आई। दरअसल ऐसे खेल दिखने में जो गिलास या जो भी accessories काम में आती थी वो आते जाते किसी न किसी मेले में कोई एक आध दुकानदार बेच ही रहा होता था। मेरी अपनी ही कहानी थी, मैंने शायद तभी ही कुछ दिन पहले "छोटा जादूगर" नाम का सीरियल देखा था, शायद कुनाल खेमू का पहले टीवी सीरियल, सो कुछ वैसा ही देखना चाह रहा था। उस बाप बेटे की जोड़ी ने फिर से कुछ खेल दिखाना शुरू किया। इस बार एक हाथ में सिक्का रख के दूसरे हाथ में अचानक से उसके आ जाने जैसा कुछ था। लोगों में थोडी सी भी उत्सुकता जैसा कुछ नहीं बचा था। मौसम की भी शायद इसमे भागी दारी थी। दोपहर के २ बजे, चमचमाती धुप में घर के बाहर बहुत ज़्यादा लोग नहीं पाये जाते।

मुझे बुरा लगा रहा था उस बाप बेटे की जोड़ी के लिए, पर अपनी तरफ़ से मैं असहाय ही था। न ही मेरे पास अपनी गुल्लक थी जो की मैं कुछ पैसे निकाल के उन्हें दे देता और न ही मुझे घर से पैसे मिलते थे बाहर कुछ खाने के लिए। हम पढ़े लिखे लोगों का एक बहुत पुराना तरीका होता है किसी भी तरह के guilt से अपने आप को अलग करने का। हम बहाने ढूंढ लेते हैं की हम फलां काम इसलिए नहीं कर पाये या उस वजह से नहीं कर पाये। खैर जो भी था, शायद उन बाप बेटे की लाचारी कुछ हद्द तक मेरी समझ में आ रही थी। इतन गर्मी में, नंगे पाँव नंगे बदन कोई भी बाप अपने बेटे को नहीं देख सकता। गरीब शब्द का मतलब शायद हम कभी इतनी गहराई से नहीं समझ सकते जितना की ये देख के की जब ८ साल का एक लड़का अपने बाप की गोद में लोरी सुनके सोता हुआ नहीं बल्कि बाप के इशारों पे इधर से उधर कूदता हुआ फांदता हुआ....दर्शकों का ध्यान बांटने की कोशिश कर रहा है। क्यूंकि शायद उसे इस बात का एहसास है की अगर आज इस तमाशे के बाद पैसे नहीं मिले तो उसके घर में कोई भी खाना नहीं खा पायेगा॥

लोगों को जाता देख उस बाप के दिल में ना जाने क्या आया की वो ज़ोर से चिल्लाया..."आज आपको दिखाऊंगा पहली बार, एक ऐसा चमत्कार जो कर देगा किसी की बोलती बंद। कलकत्ते का जादू है ये आपके शेहेर में नहीं पहले आया। जिसमे है हिम्मत, वो आगे आए....और फिर देखे अपनी आवाज़ को मेरी मुट्ठी में समाये"। एक निहायत ही पतला दुबला आदमी आगे आया पर शायद कुछ लोगों को शक हुआ और उन्होंने कहा की ये तुम्हारा ही आदमी लगता है, ओई और ढूंढो। उस तमाशाई की आँखें भर आई थीं। शायद उसे पता चल चुका था की आज फिर उसके घर में चूल्हा नहीं जलेगा। हार के मरी सी आवाज़ में उसने कहा की है किसी में दम जो आगे आए। लोग उसके फन को मानने को तैयार तो नहीं ही थे पर ख़ुद किसी में हिम्मत भी नहीं थी। शायद डरते थे की कहीं सच में आवाज़ चली गई तो। पता नही मेरे दिल में क्या आया, की शायद जब मेरे ऊपर वो अपना जादू नहीं चला पायेगा तो उसका भांडा फ़ुट जाएगा या फिर यूँ ही अपने आप को एक जादू के खेल में शामिल होता देखने की ख्वाहिश ने मुझे अपना हाथ उठाने पे मजबूर कर दिया।

वो जादूगर की कुछ समझ में नहीं आया, उसने मेरी तरफ़ घूर के देखा। उसने अपने बेटे को हाथ में कुछ काला कपड़ा देके कुछ समझाया और उसका बेटा मेरे पास आ खड़ा हुआ। बाप और बेटा शायद दोनों ही जानते थे की इस खेल का कोई फायेदा नहीं है इसलिए मन मसोस के ही उसने अपने बेटे से कहा की मेरे हाथ पे काला कपडा बाँध दे. वो चिल्लाया की उसके तीन तक गिनते ही मेरी आवाज़ बंद हो जायेगी और मैं अभी भी वापस जाना चाहूं तो जा सकता हूँ। शायद डर सा गया था की कहीं लोग फेंके हुवे पैसे भी न उठा लें। पर पता नहीं मेरे मन में कया था की मैं वहीँ रुका रहा। आख़िर इतना तो जानता ही था की ऐसा कुछ होना मुमकिन ही नहीं था इसीलिए शायद डर भी नहीं लगा।

कांपती आवाज़ में उसने कहा "एक...दो..." मेरी नज़र उसके बेटे के पेट पे गई...जिसपे मांस कम और हड्डियाँ ज़्यादा नज़र आ रही थी। "तीन...!!!"

..और मैं गूंगा बन गया ।।

Friendship - A plagiarized essay that wrote me

"Friendship is an involuntary reflex. 

I have always been big on friendship. Disproportionately big. I guess in most normal and structured lives everything fits in their own beautiful, snug, appropriate little places, and friendship has its own feel-good and convenient slot, rather like the best guest room in the house, just east of and one level down from the splendid master bedroom of eternal love. But for me, it has been different, and sometimes it feels like my house of life has been built pretty much with the dubious cement of real and assumed friendships. It has found its insidious way into the foundation plinth, the pillars, the floor, walls and roof. Its presence so ubiquitous, that it has perhaps turned completely unhealthy. Not just for me, but also for my family, my romantic interests and even occasionally for some of my more unfortunate friends. Like some, who love(d) me more intensely than others - or perhaps hate(d) me more despairingly than most - said: "Your friend fixation will ruin your life, sweetheart. Get a perspective!" Ah well. Advise. Often the worst gift from the best-intentioned folks. 

Friendship. Such a feel good word, conjuring up images nice and warm: get-togethers full of resonant laughter and palpable happiness in some warm, summer evening, on an open terrace somewhere far away from the city bustle; shared beers and confidences in a dark and cozy pub, as the skies open up in a torrential downpour outside and the jukebox plays an old Doobie Brothers favorite; shoulder to shoulder, battling common odds, and the euphoria of victories earned together, or even the shared blue note of an occasional setback; an open road, wind in the hair, a sense of freedom, togetherness. 

Yes, good times. With some people it's just easier to find than with others, I guess. And perhaps given a simple spark of potential affinity between two people, sometimes everything else in the universe conspires to push them together as friends. Maybe they would share the same immediate future, having met on the first day in a new college hostel. Maybe they share a common interest, finding the deepest connection in their love for Pearl Jam and Eddie Vedder's grungy, dark tones. Maybe they fight for the same cause, espousing it with the same intensity, at least for the next few years and until something else catches at least one of their fancy. Or maybe its much more subtle, like just a particular sense of humor, that makes conversations easy, fun, relaxed, natural. And a bond is struck, unsullied by expectations or anxieties that mar almost every new romantic liaison, free of the desparate burden of duties that family can often impose. Another friendship is born. Another journey begins.

And while the good times do certainly roll for most such friendships as the wheels of time trundle along, I suppose the nature of every friendship finds unique character in the way it evolves. The earth grows older, and we grow with it, each in our own unique ways, sometimes so slow, sometimes faster, and our friendships change and grow with us. Some friendships ignite and then die away real quick, forever forgotten. Some spit and sputter, like a damp wood trying to catch fire, but carry on regardless, for far longer than you could imagine. Some turn darker with age, growing painful like an ingrown toenail, poisoned by our own frustrations, misunderstandings and jealousies. And only a few grow roots that inexorably keep digging deeper and deeper into our souls, friendships that sometimes outlast a lifetime. But hey, those are the rare ones. Most of your friendships today, despite the joy it brings you now, will most probably fade away the day after tomorrow, leaving just a unique set of footprints in the slowly shifting sands of your life.

Such a tragedy. Nothing lasts forever, I suppose, and not just in the cold November rain. 

And as the earth spins around, days pass slowly by, and years flash past, I try and not lose sight of my own self, as I myself grow, change, and morph, sometimes willingly and in directions that I want to explore, and other times unwittingly, along ways from where I struggle to return. And when I find time to breathe, I look around me, and see everything and every one of my friends change too. Some grow in different ways than I, veering off in directions that shall never be mine. Some get lost, mired in the quicksands of frustrations, misfortunes, self loathing, and pride. Them I watch, in futile sadness, trying to clutch on to the fond memories of the good times together, yet somehow dispassionate at the silent end of an era of friendship, resigned to a strange portent of inevitability. Other friends, miraculously somehow, remain, changing spontaneously also in the pretty much the same ways as I do, across the tortuous terrains of time, in step, in spite of long periods of separation, or despite intense shared tribulations that strain the relationship's every fibre. More out of accident than out of any individual effort of our own engineering, these are the friendships I remain thankful for. 

And I realize, not only are true friendships born of involuntary reflex, but they are, in spite of all differences of our unique circumstances of evolution and misguided wanderings across life in search for our own identities, ultimately the true gifts of our destiny. Raise a glass of cheer with me, my friends, past, present and future, who read this now, in a toast to that most treasured accident of our fates: friendship!"

Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you..
I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down
I want to come too..

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you..

No one understands me quite like you do
Through all of the shadowy corners of me..

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew
I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew

I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.
I've seen the waters that make your eyes shine
Now I'm shining too

Because oh because
I've fallen quite hard over over you

If I didn't know you, I'd rather not know
If I couldn't have you, I'd rather be alone

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while I never knew
I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop
I love so much..
All of the while, I never knew

All of the while , all of the while
It was you..

How hard can it be to pen down your thoughts in to one cohesive paragraph. Few minutes, few hours, few days? Tried changing languages...starting off on atleast 6 different thought offshoots. Nothing worked. Nothing works. Its definitely not a writer's block...for when was i a writer anyway. There are things about the place, the people, the ways - everything - that need a good description for myself to be reminded of in the later years.

And staring at the screen for 20 mins now...but nothing...zilch. I should stop writing at all.

There is so much that I have to write, that I must write, just get out of me. But I don't know what is keeping me from it. As of now, its 4 A.M. I should be long asleep but I am not. And for some reason its music again that has taken over me right now. And lost in it I just wonder about all those who know me, if they know me at all. 

I shall have a regret though. They never understood me. They thought they did but they never did. I wish this was not the case.

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

She slept a summer by my side
She filled my days with endless wonder
She took my childhood in her stride
But she was gone when autumn came

And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.

Nervous sigh..

It all seems like a mirage. I have no clue why. It was real till sometime back. But something stole it.

And then she found..

She looked for that one person to confide in,
She looked for that one person to lean on,
She looked for that one person to shout at,
She looked for that one person to be liked by,
She looked for that one person to love,
She looked for that one person to hate,
She looked for that one person who would understand,
She looked for that one person who would protect,
But she looked for that one person.

And then she found them.

Anonymous Speak..

"Inherent inability to accept the truth often results in situations that destroy the sanctity of the past. For as soon as the future misaligns itself from the past, a new untreaded path is visible. There are few who walk on it and achieve what they set out to but forgot that they always wanted to. And then there are others who are never talked about." - Anon.

Meet Me on the Other Side..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=07N_v7Q1A1s

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
See you on the other side

Honey now if I'm honest
I still dont know what love is
Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled
And now the floodgates cannot hold
All my sorrow all my rage
A tear that falls on every page

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side

Maybe I oughta mention
Was never my intention
To harm you or your kin
Are you so scared to look within
The ghosts are crawling on our skin
We may race and we may run
Well not undo what has been done
Or change the moment when its gone

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side
I'll see you on the other side

I know it would be outrageous
To come on all courageous
And offer you my hand
To pull you up on to dry land
When all I got is sinking sand
The trick aint worth the time it buys
I'm sick of hearing my own lies
And loves a raven when it flies

Meet me on the other side
Meet me on the other side
I'll see you on the other side

Honey now if Im honest
I still dont know what love is..

A Life Wrap please..!

"Another mirage folds into the haze of time recalled,

And now the floodgates cannot hold"

As a kid he was like most others, maybe better. 

Get up, go to school, be the ideal student - the good friend, come back, do the homework, rush off to play, come back, watch TV and sleep. And then he grew up. And he grew up to be this man sans ideals. He grew up to be a fake. He grew up to be someone even he didn't want to be. 

He missed his childhood. But they said he had a great life. And then he fell. And then he died.

His childhood misses him now.

Aisi Sazaa..

Aisi Sazaa Deti Hawaa
Tanhaai Bhi Tanha Nahi
Neendein Bhi Ab Sone Gayeen
Raaton Ko Bhi Parwaah Nahi

Aise Mein Baarish Ki Boondon Se 

Apni Saanson Ko Sehla Bhi Do
Badhti Hawaaon Ke Jhonko Se 

Dil Ko Naghma Koi La Bhi Do

Palkon Ki Koro Pe Baithi Nami Ko
Dheeme Se Pighla Bhi Do

Ye Zindagi Aisi Hi Thi
Tumne Kabhi Jaana Nahi

Jeevan Ki Raahon Mein Aana Ya Jaana
Bataake Nahi Hota Hai
Jaate Kahin Hain Magar Jaante Nahi
Ki Aana Wahin Hota Hai

Khone Ki Zid Mein Ye Kyun Bhoolte Ho
Ki Paana Bhi Hota Hai

Wo Pal Abhi
Waisa Hi Hai
Chhoda Tha Jo
Jaisa Wahin

Aisi Sazaa Deti Hawaa
Tanhaai Bhi Tanha Nahi
Neendein Bhi Ab Sone Gayeen
Raaton Ko Bhi Parwaah Nahi..

You're the first one

With a tired look and a heavy head..he gazed at the door from where she had left. There was no reason required - for when perceptions are mere expectations, reality is but the perception. He could not remember how long it had been. A minute or ten? An hour maybe? Few days...lifetime? The excruciating feeling in his chest made it clear that he could not have survived that long and he merely tried to guess.

They had met at the Visa office, the most uncommon of places anyone would meet anyone worth remembering. But they did. A two hour wait in the queue and then running around the place for a reappointment -because they both had been so involved in chatting around with each other that they missed their respective interviews - made it worth remembering. And they did.

Relationships are funny. Unexplainable and unbelievable connections are attributed to this one word. And so did they. While one drank coffee, even though she didn't like it a single bit; the other started appreciating the difference between a Mid-low rise and a Mid-very low-mid rise jeans. And all this in a way that other was not supposed to know. The talks ranged from roses to weather to politics to love to people to indifferences. 

It had been merely more than a couple of weeks but seemed like a couple of years. Not that they knew anything and everything about each other but it didn't matter. Whenever they talked, they knew the person they were talking to. And it felt like a recollection of everything in their own hearts and minds. 

She was very excited today. More than he had ever seen her. He couldn't help being happy for her for that's how it had always worked for him - not knowing what he was happy for but knowing that she was. "Thank You", he looked up and said to someone high up there who he recently started believing in. She said she wanted to talk to him about something and would tell him if he made her a nice coffee! 

It was only while making coffee in the kitchen, he felt that he was falling in love with her. He knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life making her happier than she ever was. "Then maybe this is it", he thought to himself. "I am leaving, have to run! Something for you on the table!!", she shouted and he heard her footsteps, leaving. His heart almost stopped. Had she been thinking the same thing? He almost thought about telling it to her but had not thought if he actually would. He felt scared. Nervous. Wanted to shout to stop her but could not gather his voice together.

He went out. There was a wedding invitation on the table. It also said in handwritten letters - "For the first invitee".

थम जा..

How many times have you wished that time could stop? And just so that the moment of pleasure, the moment of realization (or maybe even pain) is long enough to last a lifetime. Funny that we can find inspirations from books, movies, idols...funnier that sometimes it all comes from within. If everything really was within, unleashing it shouldn't have been so difficult. Momentary lapses I call them. Long enough for making some hours of your life worthwhile and short enough to still let the persistent undertone prevail.

Still what justifies writing a blog about just any other day? To think of what really could have been wrong/ right about this day I cannot fathom more than these basic facts. For one, today was a moonlit night...brilliantly moonlit night. Today was Holi...colourful as it was. Today was pretty much like any other day. Maybe.

In the pursuit of desires we lose touch with someone who deserved it the most, someone who longed for it the most - one's own self. And the craving is not often felt but when it is, it is overpowering. Philosophical, as few would label this. But the truth still remains- and I personally can vouch for it- if even a narcissist like myself can feel a disconnect to his own self then maybe there are others too. Or so is the hope. And it is this that makes you seek contentment around you. And disappointment is but the natural course. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PAvgSB_9sfY&eurl

Lyrics to above video:
Step one you say we need to talk
He walks you say sit down it's just a talk
He smiles politely back at you
You stare politely right on through
Some sort of window to your right
As he goes left and you stay right
Between the lines of fear and blame
You begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

Let him know that you know best
Cause after all you do know best
Try to slip past his defense
Without granting innocence
Lay down a list of what is wrong
The things you've told him all along
And pray to God he hears you
And pray to God he hears you

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

As he begins to raise his voice
You lower yours and grant him one last choice
Drive until you lose the road
Or break with the ones you've followed
He will do one of two things
He will admit to everything
Or he'll say he's just not the same
And you'll begin to wonder why you came

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life
How to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life

CHORUS:
Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life
How to save a life

Fare you well

Attention seeking disorder of the fourth kind:

Something that, I just realized, is exhibited by writing blogs, updating status messages, talking to people about your problems, their problems and as funny as it sounds...by being nice in front of everyone and here comes the googly, by smiling...and smiling a lot at your bloody expense.

Life sucks. But something tells me, Death is gonna be no better.

Perception Management

There is something about managing your perception well that an MBA teaches most of us. Knew a couple of people at this place...more than a couple actually, who pretend to be something else and are something else. Of course, this won't make sense to an uninitiated reader (or for that matter, even an initiated one for I am not the credible types..) But this is a place that brings out the true colors of a lot of us.

Its good in a way that it really leads to a widening of your horizons, your perspectives. I am not pessimistic about people. Have been one of the most optimistic ones in believing them in the first instance. Ok...my blog, maybe I am taking the benefit of the fact and being blabbermouth about myself. But just in case, my faith got reaffirmed in all this by a couple of incidents that took place very recently. Only thing is that its hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. Everyone is here with a purpose, with a stupid agenda and it does not matter to them what it takes to complete that.

Afterall, its not the means but the end.

P.S. In the race for all this, I quit. I quit to strive hard to manage what people think of me....they don't think any good..and they won't :) I wait for the next moment of humiliation at the hands of anyone and everyone who wants to have a grab at it. And I will try again to not get affected..and I quit before losing out...my faith, my dignity and...everything else.

Desire

And you never knew the beauty of desire..

For you were busy & too tired to admire..

But things did change, now they call me a liar..

I'm tired but got some help,

My objects of desire today set my pyre..

Procrastination in full swing

There is something about wsting time which only we - the privileged time wasters - know of. Probably, its just the feeling of being able to waste what is most precious at the moment - time. But it makes you feel so good...a little guilty...and nostalgic at times. I, for one, reminisced over the same song which I have done for like 8 years now. Yaadein yaad aati hain.....yup, God knows what I remembered today but something again touched the very core. Off late I am trying consciously to feel good...feel good about a lot of things, a lot of people, a lot of activities as well. Maybe, I am tired of myself. Maybe, this is the sole reason I wanted to feel something new. Maybe, this again is a phase that shall but pass off.

I hope for a better tomorrow because this time I am tired and I don't want to crumble up into the feeling of nothingness again...

(Blogs are a wonderful way to let out those stupid feelings that you cannot talk about with anyone and then let the whole silly world read and ponder about it in their free time. In fact, I wonder if I write because I like to or because I know that someone might read it someday. I would still like to believe the former but I don't know if at a subconscious level I am aware of the latter as well.)

यूँ ही कभी कभी...

दर्द की इन आहों में इक चेहरा तलाशते हैं..
रेत की इन राहों में बस उसको तराशते हैं..

यूँ तो दर्द है इतना की ग़म-ऐ-जाम पिए जाते हैं..
बेशर्म सी ये ज़िन्दगी जो अब भी जिए जाते हैं..

कभी मुड के देखा तो कुछ राहगीर नज़र आते हैं..
जाने पहचाने से लगते हैं पर साफ़ मुकर जाते हैं..

आखरी है इल्तजा और आखरी ख्वाहिश यही..
अब अगर मिलना भी तो नज़रें कभी मिलाना नहीं..

The Breakup

The Breakup

Meg's story

"It was like being with a kid, handling him...with caution", she said. "He was so stuck up with his own thoughts...his own ideas...in his own world". Meg had never preferred to talk about her relationship but it seemed like today she wanted to let it all out. She seemed exhausted. It had been a now-on and now-off kind of relationship. They never proclaimed, not even to each other, that they were dating. But the world seemed to believe so....and maybe rightly so. And Shelly, her best friend, wouldn't believe that Meg and Nick were not together anymore.

"...But Meg, maybe that's why you two clicked...you were different...you both were so unlike but so very perfect together...complements but still the part of a whole". But even Shelly couldn't do much to change Meg's mind. Nick was gone and probably forever. It wasn't that Meg didn't cry. She did, she sure did. For that one hug from him, she still wished for it. She still wanted it. But maybe the feelings were gone. Her inside told her to forget him and Meg was practical enough to realize the facts. She knew that this was for the better. For she hated being bothered - about the smallest things in life. She hated being questioned. She liked her freedom. She liked Nick but only for what he should have been and not what he always was.

Shelly left. Unable to do much she left Meg by her door and offered any help that Meg would need. Meg didn't need it. She was strong. Or she liked to think so.

Her head spun today..felt heavy. She thought she needed coffee. The next door coffee shop was still open. Being a regular there she just occupied the usual corner. He used to be with her but today she was alone. The coffee shop guy looked at her but had some strange look tonight. She thought about Marc, the office guy who also liked her. She thought about her family..about friends. "Coffee..", said the waiter and put her coffee with a blueberry muffin next to it. She didn't remember ordering it and gave a puzzled look. "On the house!". She felt better....she liked blueberry muffins.

Nick's story

He felt shattered. He still sat there under the chestnut tree where they used to meet..and where they had met today probably for the last time. Was it night already, he wondered. The last time they had fought was a couple of weeks back. He knew it was a small issue..could have been avoided but eventually ended up in a fight. But the last time he knew they would both end up in each others arms...profusely wanting to be together, both sorry for the fight, not blaming - just being.

Nick knew he was weak..maybe not upto the standards of someone like Meg and felt privileged in being around her, being with her.

Today was different. The light of hope seemed to have faded away because Meg had refused to trust him for the first time in their relationship. And he knew he was not imagining things...Meg had told him herself.

He got up and started walking.

He cursed himself. His chest hurt and he didn't know why. Meg had accused him today of behaving like a child and being unable to cope with his attitude. Nick continued walking. He wanted her. He liked her. But maybe the priorities were different for both of them. Nick wanted Meg and knew now he was never going to get her. And Meg? What did she want? "Not me..", he thought.

He found himself outside a glass window for he was used to coming to this place everyday but now he didn't feel like going in. He spotted a familiar face..someone who until yesterday, he called his own. She was sitting at the same table they used to. His face was wet with tears and sweat. He looked at her and knew she was feeling lonely. He motioned to the coffee-shop owner from outside. With a puzzled look at first, the owner realized the lovers' misfortune very soon. Nick pointed towards the blueberry muffins.

He knew they were Meg's favorite...

दर्द और दवा

नहीं कहते कि दर्द हमारा है ज़माने से बढ़ कर,
ग़म बस इस बात का है कि दर्द भी तुम हो और दवा भी...