मायावी वन

परेशानी तब होती है
जब हम
शब्दों पर
विश्वास करने लगते हैं




शब्द विश्वास के नहीं
अहसास के वाहक होते हैं




उनका बुना मायाजाल
एक पूरी सलमान खान की फिल्म




उन पर विश्वास करने से पैदा होती है ज़रुरत
उन्हें "सच", "झूठ", "आधा सच", "थोड़ा सा झूठ"
जैसे पालों में डालने की.


यूँ टूट टाट कर कहाँ बना पाएंगे वे
अपना मायावी वन?

आदत

पहली बार,

दो दिन तक

होश ही नहीं आया था .

दूसरी बार, 

एक रात सहेली के यहां बिता कर 

लौट आई थी मैं .

तीसरी बार , 

4 घंटे में ही 

हंसती खेलती

वापिस आ गई.


चौथी बार,
कहीं नहीं जाना पड़ा
बच्चों को पिक्चर दिखाने बाहर ले गयी.


उसके अगली बार
मैंंने न
गिनती बंद कर दी
और तुम्हेें कुछ
Freedom and personal  space
देने को
3 दिन के लिये घर से बाहर चली गई।


उस से अगली बाऱ
तुमने मुझ से पूछा,
तुम्हे मेरी चीज़ें देखने की
ज़रुरत ही क्या थी?
फिर बालकनी में जा कर
किसी को फ़ोन लगाया
और दोनों किसी बात पर
खूब हंसने लगे.  




तुम्हारी बेवफाईओं की 

मुझे कैसी आदत सी हो चली है ।


First Edit: 25th May 2018
Next edit: 08th Sep 2018  

Katranein...

Even when I am with you, I feel a thirst for you. Why is that?


I finally figured that one out. Do you want to hear?


OK...


Suppose you have a guest at your door. The guest wants to come in, and you really do want them to come in. But then you realise, that your house is too full. There is no place for them to sit. Every sofa is occupied by another memory. Every chair has a ghost sitting on it. Some chairs have people who you want there. They cannot be evicted. Even the bed is taken by the bonds of the present and the hopes of the future.
The guest is right there. But you cannot experience them inside your house. Because there is no space for them. They cannot even enter your zone.
And that is how, right at your doorstep, standing in front of them, you feel a thirst for them. That is how, standing at your doorstep, they have to turn and walk away. There was no place for them in there.


Hmmm


They wonder about the invitation. They wonder why they were invited if there was no place. You want to tell them that you always found this house empty and devoid of meaning. They look at you and smile. There is nothing more to be said. Or done. They will wait for as long as their legs allow them to stand in front of a door. Then they will sit down and wait. Then they will wait some more. But finally, they need to turn back and go home. They know the futility of the waiting. But it is a ritual that needs to be completed. Don't worry about the waiting. Its just a rite of passage. It will pass.


And the thirst?


That will vanish the minute you realise that the house is too full for another person.


You have all the answers, don't you?


Not me. The lines under my eyes. They are the all knowing ones.

Zero by Tazeen

This is a tiny story on another site - the name of the story is Zero and the author is "Tazeen"
*********************
"Don't worry. God will help
you. He loves you 70 times
more than your mother."


She stared blankly in return.
70 times zero was still zero.


*******************
I cannot love this story enough. Nothing reflects the state of the heart better than this right now

More on Hotel Heartbreak

We all live in Hotel Heartbreak.

Different rooms.

No intercom. 

Deh Shiva Bar Mohe Ihe... one more excellent version

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sx_AIX9r4lc&feature=share


And a milder one:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Z56r6KnxvA&spfreload=5

हम लोगो की लाइफ न, लाइफ नहीं है.


Our lives are proof that God has a sense of humour, and our lives are his idea of a joke.

Evolution - II

लोग न,
कब इंसानों से दस्तावेज़ 
और दस्तावेज़ से 
सिर्फ नंबर हुए 
पता ही नहीं चला 
हमारी दुनिया में 

Khamoshi by Suryabhanu Gupt

In the end..

You are right. In the end, it will be about the things left undone. The sunsets not watched and the nights that did not turn to mornings. The fights that never happened and the making up that never followed.


We will wonder why we didn't just walk together when our paths did cross for a brief time. It felt so good. We will remember it was our stupid ego. We will curse that ego forever. But we will not be able to make those paths cross again.


Sometimes, it is best to say "I will not let you go." Sometimes, it is good to remember, that paths don't always stay entwined.

Because i read Sylvia Plath today, and got the courage to write this..

I like to live
in 2 worlds
One, that is bright
with the light of gratitude
and flush
with the glow of happiness
all around.
This world
is pretty
And its yours.




And then
there is the world
that is mine.
In that
the light is brighter
but it does not belong to gratitude.
The colors
are richer
sharper
more like pen knives
than hues.


In this world
I live sometimes
and some nights
I come here to sleep.




In this world
we do not avoid pain
we embrace it
like in your world
you embrace "happiness"
possessions, and other pointless things
that you and your children
keep collecting.


In this world
all my hues
are alive and valid
No monsters
are pushed under the bed.

Utopia

Perhaps I am volatile
and perhaps you are not loving enough
to fill
all my time, senses, every open space.






Perhaps I ask for too much
and perhaps
you give too little
of your time
space
and love.





Do not measure
when giving
Do not heckle
when taking.






Do not leave
empty spaces
that need something else
to fill them.






And that, my dear
is Utopia.

Fever 103 by Sylvia Plath

This is an excerpt from the poem Fever 103 by Sylvia Plath

*************************

I am too pure for you or anyone.

Your body

Hurts me as the world hurts God. I am a lantern——

My head a moon

Of Japanese paper, my gold beaten skin

Infinitely delicate and infinitely expensive.

Does not my heat astound you! And my light!

All by myself I am a huge camelliacamellia a plant native to Asia, with large flowers typically red or pink in color

Glowing and coming and going, flush on flush.

I think I am going up,

I think I may rise——

The beads of hot metal fly, and I love, I
Am a pure acetyleneacetylene a colorless, flammable gas that produces a high heat under pressure, used for torch welding and the cutting or purifying of metals

Virgin

Attended by roses,

By kisses, by cherubimcherubim plural of “cherub”; high-ranking angels mentioned in the Bible, often depicted in paintings as winged babies or toddlers.,

By whatever these pink things mean!

Not you, nor him

Nor him, nor him

(My selves dissolving, old whore petticoats)——

To Paradise.

*****************

Harivansh Rai Bachchan

इस पार प्रिय, मधु है, तुम हो 
उस पार न जाने क्या होगा!

ऐसे ही

हाशिये से पृष्ठ
पृष्ठ से मुखपृष्ठ
मुखपृष्ठ पर फिर
रोज़मर्रा की जिंदगी के निशान ।

मुखपृष्ठ के चक्कर में
हाशिया भी हाथ से जाता है।



ये इश्क ज़रा सा झांसा दे,
सब कुछ ही लूट ले जाता है।

Hole in the heart

I have
A
You
Shaped hole
In my heart. 

bhagwaan ka sense of humour

१० मिनट में  पूर्ण विराम
और ३४ साल का comma


भगवान् का sense of humour
वाकई गज़ब का है। 

Daachi valeya mod muhaar ve...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CWgzLcI47YE


I first heard this song in his voice.


Many, many years and many, many versions later, he still does it best.

Sanskrit Lokokti on parenting and education

माता शत्रु: पिता वैरी येन बालो न पाठित:


If they do not educate their child, they are not parents, they are enemies.

Quote

Inability to do hard work is a global epidemic.

Original hai 

कतरनें

वो जो घर था, जिसका तुम सपना देखा करती थीं , वो कैसा है?


साहिल पर बैठ कर, समंदर में कोई छोटी सी नाव देखते हैं न, तो कभी वो साफ़ साफ़ दिखाई देती है, और कभी एकदम गायब हो जाती है. जैसे कभी कहीं थी ही नहीं. वो भी ऐसा ही है. कभी एकदम सच लगता है, जैसे हाथ बढ़ाओ तो छू लो. कभी यूँ गायब होता है, जैसे कल्पना में भी न रहा हो कभी. 


वो कश्ती गायब नहीं होती. आँख से ओझल होती है. बहुत फर्क है. 


वो कश्ती, किसी पत्थर से टकरा कर टूट जाती है, तो हमें पता भी नहीं चलता. 

Mele par baal kavita

मेला है भाई मेला है 
दूर शहर में मेला है 
झूले और खिलौने होंगे 
हमको देखना मेला है 


तरह तरह के खेल तमाशे 
चिक्की, मिठाई और बताशे 
चलते चलते थक जाते हैं 
ख़त्म न होता मेला है!

On the monotony of daily existence...

Across the room
our eyes
sing the same song.
Our hearts
beat
synchronously
to an invisible rhythm.


Then
you ask me to dance.


Isn't it funny
that
as soon as
our feet
start tapping
to the same beat,
Our hearts
lose the rhythm?

Ek Kahaani chhoti si

हम तुम
एक मौसम के फूल थे
महके, खिले, मिले भी.
फल बना,
टपका।




खाया गया,
फिंक गए छिलके
और गुठली। 




बस.
बात खत्म।