A letter to my muse

Missing you - right now!

And I am confessing- I have kind of a selfish motive behind! I am missing my muse- I am missing my writing!

I will not behold myself to tell u how I miss those amazing moments of ours where we sat for so long  and discussed point of views, relationships n poetry!

According to wikipedia, there r two kinds of love- ishq-e-haqiqi and ishq-e-majazi but I say there's one more kind of love which I have always called - an intellectual affair-- a love affair that goes between two minds rather than hearts!

Hearts are foolish beings! Minds are men whereas hearts are women.They don't think- they just know how to love, care and caress!! They are the followers like the ones which are seen in the herd of a cattle! They follow the mind like an innocent sheep. They are givers and always get all the sympathies of the world!

Minds- they lead!! Simple and straight! They apply logics and think of consequences! But what if they are lead by another one- will the heart refuse to follow? Never!

Such is an intellectual affair where over and above the hearts or bodies, the mist happens between the two brains who wander in the similar directions! The two in which both apply logics but similar ones - there is appreciation more than love, wit more than dialogues and 'connect' more than an actual intercourse.

We share the same frequencies if not telepathies, we are each others' muses and we both know that, we even have adapted each others way of expressions but it hardly matters! What matters is the same page on which we both stand like headers n footers!

Love is supposed to complement n not to supplement!!

I miss the laughter on those silly jokes which u cracked n I crashed; those adrenaline rushes which occurred when u said something I was about to say n those 'timing' factors which I may rest not to say!

At this point I am also thinking of our coffee meets- when I being a total 'tea-lover' was out there sipping hot coffee with you - just because you were a 'tea-hater'!  Because it was never the beverage but the company to me which mattered the most!

With sharing, laughing and admiring in eyes, brains & hearts- unsaid n yet understood things-- I am missing u!!

इबारतें (3)

इबारतें थमीं हैं ,

आजकल,

इबादतें बदलाव पे आमादा हैं ;

मेरे हज की गलियों के नक्श 

शायद किसी पुराने संदूक में,

आराम फ़रमाते होंगे ,

मगर गलियां मुझे याद हैं; 

हर आहट समेटती ,

इन पन्नों की गिनती ख़त्म होने पे है 

मगर ये बदलती इबारतें, 

मुझे मेरे हज की गलियों में 

बार बार धकेल आती हैं;  

इबारतें अब भी थमी हैं, 

इबादतें मगर, 

रोज़ाना बदल रही हैं | 

And Ibaratein part 3 is here- after 4 months of Ibaratein 2 

A few words have become family to this series, featuring themselves in every post but the connection keeps on changing! 

I am not sure i will write other parts to "Ibaratein" series or not but am sure if I do, teh thread will be seen, strong and long! 

Read Ibaratein 1 here!! 

इबारतें : Writing
इबादतें: Prayers
नक्श:Map
बेबाक:Frank

इबारतें (2)

Ibaratein

इबारतें बदल रहीं हैं,
मगर इबादतें वहीँ थमी हैं
मेरे हज की गलियों के नक्श,
आज भी वैसे के वैसे हैं
मगर शायद गलियां बदल रही हैं
इन पन्नो की सिलवट,
आज भी हर आहट समेटती है
पर ये बदलती इबारतें,
हर बार कुछ नए नक्श
उकेर ही देती है;
इबादतें थमी रह जाती हैं
इबारतें बस,
नयी लिख दी जाती हैं !

This is in continuation to another very dear poetic piece of mine! Both are called "Ibaratein" 

When Ibaratein 1 came out of my pen , it struck chords of many people I hardly knew and since then, it was always somewhere deep down in my heart to restore the "connect" by writing a second part to it! 

Hope I did justice to myself!

Read Ibaratein here!

आवाज़

आवाज़ दी है, 

कुछ दूर तक तो गयी होगी 

तूने सुना होगा, कुछ आहिस्ता से, 

कुछ असर तो हुआ होगा; 

मेरी आवाज़ है अगर तेरे एहसास में 

तो कुछ तो उमड़ा होगा 

क्या हुआ जो मुझ तक तेरी आवाज़ नहीं पहुंची 

मैं सोचती हूँ , 

आवाज़ सुन कर मेरी 

तूने मुड कर , इधर उधर तो देखा होगा!!

With special remeberence and fond thoughts, this one came out in a jiffy of say 60 seconds, and not even in lone moments but right in middle of a hangout , in between the conversations! 

tells me how big a bluff-master a human's mind could be!! 

मेरा अज़ीज़ सामान

क्यों ऐसा होता है 

के कभी कभी घर से  निकलके 

बहुत दूर चलने के बाद 

याद आता है , के 

पीछे कुछ छूट गया 

कुछ ज़रूरी सा, कुछ अज़ीज़ सा 

जो संभाला था कई जतनों से 

वही बेहद कीमती सा, 

घर पर ही छूट गया 

अब् पीछे जाना मुश्किल है 

और आगे चलना भी मुनासिब नहीं 

क्या करूँ, दिल में बड़ी कश्मकश  है 

कुछ देर रुक जाती हूँ 

बीच रास्ते  में  अनमनी सी होकर थम जाती हूँ 

फिर कुछ सोच के, भारी मन से 

आगे बढ़ जाती हूँ 

पर मेरा मन , वहीँ छूट जाता है 

मेरा वह अज़ीज़ सामान , 

मुझे अब भी वापस बुलाता है 

Under the Tree

Silhouttes of a tree| Image by- http://bit.ly/XkhAdY

Sometimes life can play cruel games- on ALL of us!! We rush, we run, we compete, we complete targets, we laugh, we party but then we all come back “home”- to a place that we call our own! A place where we get in our pajamas and sweatshirts and we don’t mind what our hair look like!! And then we, at least for once think about the entire day and this is the moment when we realize how there is just no body around!!

We have friends- a lot of them (thanks to office and facebook and whatspp and what not) who might be just a ping away but do we really have them in our lives?? Probably not! It’s just an illusion we create for ourselves that okay I am around people- all the time which is so not true! Fact is that everyone is at his/her own. Everyone-even those so called friends have their own lives, their own set of friends, love of lives etc. When we are together, it’s nothing more than the fact that we both need each other for this much time and that’s it!! There is a mutual need which gets fulfilled and we think we have people!! Blah!!

So it’s better to get accustomed to this, to find peace being with ourselves, to enjoy the solace- and the sooner it is the better it gets! Because eventually, there is actually no body.

Why do we look for a green surrounding while taking up a new flat, probably it may add to the beauty of your balcony or may be a good view to your eyes but do we ever think how peaceful those same trees may become whilst we sit under them – all by ourselves! I bet nobody! And this is the ugly truth of life! We sit under those trees, all by ourselves, only in the silhouettes of memoirs and nostalgia and a husky voice which says – Yes accept it now, this is the fact, there is no body!

And then it makes me think – why do we even need people in our life- just because Man is a social animal?? Well, man is an animal no doubt but in a different way, the theory ‘survival of the fittest’ also applies here. The one who can as much tolerate you as a person, remains longest in our lives and rest just drift away. Nobody makes an effort, nobody even tries to survive- a little longer- and this is what makes you go and sit under that tree all by yourself.

Had there been a little more effort, a little more urge to fight and to stay back- nobody would go and hug those trees, nobody would try to find solace in that dampness and nobody would write something like this!!

But then, as I said, life plays cruel games- on ALL of us!! No one is spared! And people just hush around, still trying to find friends in books, music, cigarettes and for that matter people but –actually Nothing happens!!

So let this fight end here, let this race be only with yourself, let there not be any desire to sit under those trees with your hand in someone’s—and then I hope, we all might survive this cruel game of life!!

"बदलाव"

वक़्त गुज़रता है , रिश्ते बदलते हैं
दिलों के साथ साथ , दिलों के डर भी बदलते हैं
किस्से, कहानियाँ, यादें बदलती हैं
शामों के साथ , फिर रातें बदलती हैं ,
एहसास बदलते हैं , अलफ़ाज़ भी बदलते हैं
इज्हारों के साथ , उम्मीदें बदलती हैं
इंसान और फितरतें भी ,
आखिर बदल जाते हैं ;

सिर्फ बदलाव ही तो है जो एक सा रहता है
इसके अलावा तो
सब कुछ बदलता है !!

"Because only Change remains constant!!"

नींद

"बहुत खुशनसीब होते हैं जिन्हें नींद नसीब होती है , 

कुछ पलों के लिए सही , बेसाख्ता ख्वाहिशों से निज़ात तो मिलती है "

ऐसा भी होता है

Photo- http://bit.ly/QRtbhz

क्या तुम्हें मालूम है ,

ऐसा भी होता है, 

कभी कभार, 

गले में जैसे कुछ, 

अटका सा रहता है; 

सांस का रुख पलट जाता है 

और आँखों का समा ज्यादा रौशन नहीं होता 

मालूम है ऐसा कब होता है, 

जब कुछ अपना, बहुत अपना 

कहीं खो जाता है 

और मैं सोचती हूँ ,

अभी तो यहीं था , ऐसे कैसे खो सकता है 

कुछ दिन ढूँढती  हूँ, 

फिर थोडा मन को समझाती  हूँ, 

अब क्या होगा सोचने से ;

और मन फिर से ज़रा सा ,

भर सा आता है! 

इरशाद किया है

जो बात बाहर आई है,
 न जाने कितने  दिनों से पक रही थी 

मुट्ठी तो बंद थी ,

मगर रेत फिर भी रिस रही थी 

ज़र्रा ज़र्रा समेत के,

 इन लव्जों को पिरोया है 

नज़्म नहीं ये तो,

 मेरे ज़ेहेन का  इक रोयाँ  है 

मिल जाये कोई 

जो साफ़ दिल से इल्तिजा करे 

पकी हुई भूख का

 ये तो पहला निवाला है 

There are moments when you have so many good things around you and you can’t capture them all and keep them forever, u can’t click a photograph or possibly u can’t take down the notes and all you can do is open up yourself to the limit even you don’t know. Hear it will all your senses and absorb the moment. Take mind pictures and just live the moment!!

This poem is inspired by one of my most eventful and candid conversation with Irshad Kamil (a renowned Poet/lyricist) And i could see that more or less all poets cross the same roads in their lives! Thereby naming this poem after his name!! 

डायरी

There are times when every writer suffers through a Creative Blockage, the time when your mind becomes blank, no incoming outgoing of ideas, thoughts , feelings. same happened with me! Then My Diary, my best friend came to my rescue! This piece of poetry highlights how painful at times it gets for a write not able to write something for days!! 

The Diary

कुछ भूल रही हूँ शायद, या फिर कुछ और सोच रही हूँ

पढ़ रही हूँ कुछ, और तस्वीर कोई और देख रही हूँ

मन भटका है, आजकल यूँ ही कोरी घूम रही हूँ

आदतें छूट रही हैं, पर मैं क्यों उन्हें छूटने दे रही हूँ 

हाँ याद आया

एक डायरी रक्खा करती थी पास हमेशा

जो अच्छा लगता था, झट से उसमे लिख लेती थी

आज जब ढूंदा  उसको , तो याद आया वो तो घर पे रह गयी 

हाँ याद आया

अबतक यही भूल रही थी 

यही आदत थी, जो छूट रही थी