Category: Writeups

Invitation to concert of death !

Hey,

I am that lucky bastard
Who got to know his time of death
Now that wails have mellowed down
Let’s bid farewell in style

Here is the invitation
To the party of my life
Welcome all
Family and friends
And those
Who have touched my life
Even a little bit

Share your stories and grievances
I know I am nice
But not so nice
Let’s clean the slate
Or balance the balance sheet
Between us
So that my soul is not heavy
And won’t bother you as ghost

Come one, come all
To the celebration of death
A gala, one of its kind
Going on for a week
There will be
Quiz about me
Food of your choice
Games of transcendence
Surprise of love

Waiting to host you
One last time
Be the cherry of event
And make merry of it

Lovingly yours
Roy

Pressure cooker

When we are young,
Whole world is at arm’s length,
Imitating as Pilot, Doctor,
Astronaut, Scientist,
Artist, Player, Writer,
Are our leisure games,
Because
Everything seems achievable,

As we enter the pressure cooker,
The steam of life,
Start working it’s wonder,
It softens the goal
To a nine to five job

The first whistle is of school,
Homework, toppers, peer pressure,
Suggestions from all directions,
Develops confusion,
With fear of failure,
You loose hope,

The second whistle is of college,
When we have exposure blast,
With no discipline policing,
We indulge in bad habits,
And revolve around,
Banging our head on wall,

The third whistle is of job,
Where you find no link,
Between your past and present,
Education suddenly becomes useless,
Life becomes a timetable,
Chasing after materialistic goals,

The fourth whistle is marriage,
Settling down with wife,
With responsibilities on shoulder,
We put off the gas and let it cook,
With hobbies on back burner,

After the cooling off period,
Suddenly your silver jubilee occurs,
Kids bring back old memories,
And you open a Pandora’s box of aspiration,
And realise that when lid is finally removed
Life has become a potpourri !

मर्दानगी

मर्द को दर्द नही होता,
क्योंकि वो अपना दर्द,
औरत पर निकाल देता है,
डांट कर, मार कर, रुला कर,
आवाज़ दबा कर, भूला कर,
ज़बरदस्ती कर, छोड़ कर,
चाहे वो पत्नी हो, बेटी हो,
बहन हो, माँ हो, रिश्ते में हो,
या कोई अनजान ही हो,

किसी लड़की ने ठुकरा दिया,
महिला बॉस ने कुछ बोल दिया,
बीवी ज़्यादा कमाने लग गयीं,
या बाजार में ही किसी ने
दो टूक शब्दो में आईना दिखा दिया,
तो मर्दानगी के गुब्बारे में
पिन चुभ जाता है,
अहंकार को ठेस पहूँचती है,
इतनी की वो अच्छाई भूल जाता है,
बस मर्दानगी को ध्यान रखता है,
घृणा में अंधा होने लगता है,
क्रोध में आगबाबुल हो जाता है,
जघन्य अपराध तक कर बैठता है,

पर ये कुछ नही,
मर्द तो हर चीज़ का गुस्सा औरत पर उतरते है,
दफ्तर का, अपनी विफलता का,
बच्चो का, रिश्तेदारों का,
जैसे वो एक थैला हो,
अपनी कमज़ोरियां छुपाने का,
अपने दंभ को बल देने का,

समझ नही आता ये कैसी मर्दानगी है,
ये कैसा पौरुष है,

The Veil

A guy caught my attention in the mall. I kept staring at him so that he looks back. Following his instincts, he searched for the eyes which gazed him. I blinked quickly to assure that it was me. He smiled.

I pulled up my brows asking him what is he looking at ? He gestured with his hands that my eyes are beautiful. I blushingly closed my lids. I blew out my pupils to his muscles and danced my eyes to compliment his gym body. He turned pink.

He invited me to nearby coffee shop. I angrily glared back and directed him towards my family. He requested me to pull up my veil so that he can see the face which adorned such beautiful eyes. I pulled down my net and turned my back.

His restlessness was apparent in mirror. I pointed finger at my veil and signalled him that it’s enough for now. His innocent eyes and folded hands melted me.

So I turned and pulled up my net. He sighed and smiled. Pulling my eyebrows, I asked what now ? He swing his neck slowly to both sides and fluttered his eyes like dancing in his head. So I started blinking my eyes quickly but he gave confusing look. I blinked my eyes slowly & repeatedly just to have some fun.

Thinking with my pupils up, I puzzled him and pointed him to find these eyes and left in hurrily after my mother.

दोस्त की इल्तजा

मेरे दोस्त ने मुझसे पूछा-
“नाम तो बता उस खुशनसीब का ।
रहती है जो तेरे दिल में और
साहील है तेरी कविता का ।”

जवाब मेरा कुछ यूं निकला-
“इस गुमनाम मोहब्बत को तू नाम न दे ।
भावना के बवंडर को हाशिये पर ही रहने दे ।
मत आज़मा मेरे सब्र का बांध।
तिनका तिनका हो जाएगा मेरा गुमान।
बहुत सुकून है इस झूठे दिलासे में ।
की ख़ुशी मिलती है उसकी मुस्कराहट से ।
ऐ अज़ीज़ गुस्ताखी माफ़ कर दे ।
बेहतर होगा की ये इल्तिजा अधूरी रहे ।”

Love…

The stories, the books,
The songs, the movies,
Showed something
Called love.
But left me
Wondering ?
What is actually,
Love !!

Then she came
Like a cool breeze,
Spreading fragrance.
Lighting up
The lamp of my life,
She was the missing link,
The solace, the refuge,
I was searching for !

She made me understand love,
Its vastness like space,
Its volume like ocean,
Its count like stars.
She is epitome of love,
Its definition,
Its explanation,
Its description.

The word recalls of her,
The feelings surround her,
The emotions erupt for her,
For me she is The Love.

A Singles’ Valentine Week

Day 1 : Rose
My rose dried and withered when it could not find a suitable soulmate.

Day 2 : Propose
My legs ached and lips jammed waiting to express my feelings.

Day 3 : Chocolate
The chocolate ended up in fridge waiting to be hogged by my nephew.

Day 4 : Teddy
Even teddy shed tears from its plastic eyes on my loneliness.

Day 5 : Promise
I made an empty promise to myself not end up with my cushion on couch.

Day 6 : Hug
My arms itched for warmth of my beloved.

Day 7 : Kiss
My mouth got tired from chewing the mint gum.

Day 8 : Valentine
The valentine week ended with friends sharing their failed love stories.

चाँद और नाखून

कभी कभी चाँद को देखता हूँ
तो आधा चाँद 
टूटे हुए नाखून का 
रूप अख्तियार कर लेता है,

जब दिल टुटता है,
तो दिल का एक हिस्सा अलग हो जाता है,
वो शायद टूटे नाखून जैसा होगा,
तारा तो नही बनता वो,
चाँद के रूप में याद आता है,

नाखून फिर उग आते है,
पर दिल का घांव नही भरता,

अठलेखियां

पथरीले तट से दूर तक,
सिर्फ हरा-नीला पानी बिखरा है,
हवा और पानी आपस में खेल रहे है,
हवा पानी को पत्थरो की तरफ धकेलता है,
पानी पत्थरो को छूकर पीछे भाग जाता है,
जैसे उन नादान बेजान पत्थरो से डरता हो,
ये हवा-पानी-पत्थरो की अठलेखियां,
आँखों और कानो को सुकून देती है,
पत्थरों से पानी की टकराने की आवाज़ में मासुमियत है,
जो मन को बचपन की यादों में ले जाती है,
कितना साफ़ मन हुआ करता था हमारा,
यहाँ पानी और पत्थरों में जो प्रदुषण है,
वो मनुष्य द्वारा ही फैलाई हुई है,
जैसे हमारे मन को संसार की सच्चाई,
संशय और संदेह से मलिन कर रही है,