Saturday, September 19, 2009


I have returned after quite some time, owing to the fact that my sessionals were on. In fact, this return wasn’t planned or anything. A recent incident spurred the romantic writer in me to think. To think of the things we do nowadays, the mean we use and lots more.

A friend of mine was recently, kinda dumped, by his girlfriend. The two had been together for a long time now, nearly five years. As far as I know they loved each other a lot and still do, yes, both of them. Their problem was however peculiar. She loved him, but didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. I didn’t quite figure out what it meant. If you do, please enlighten me.

Well, anyways I am not about to give a lectures on love life. This incident actually, made some things clear to me. There exist two different kinds of love: one – repairable (strictly includes only parents and siblings) and two – common love.

It came to my notice that relationships nowadays have become too complicated. You have to have different kinds of relations with people. One, where after all the fights and misunderstandings, after all the hue and cry, we still come back together, because we have nowhere else to go. For example, I take myself- Out of seven days in a week I am on non-talking terms with my mom on four. But still, I can’t imagine a life without her. Nopes. She is too dear to me. I fight, I say harsh things, but I always go back to her.

Second, where after a small fight, a small misunderstanding, a little detachment we decide to quit, simply. No examples required here, are they?

Why is it so? Is it because we have evolved too much? Or is it because that we want ourselves to be portrayed as modern, practical, straight-forward and always right?

You see, I couldn’t find myself contributing much to this relationship anymore. I don’t want to drag it any further coz we will end up hurting ourselves. It’s time that we call it off.”

Why have we become so practical? Why have we become so intelligent? Why have we become so incongruous? Why do we want to break-it-off when it becomes a burden? Why don’t we try and figure out the reasons for it becoming a burden and then sort them out? Why don’t we try to figure out ways to improve our relations, to renovate them instead of searching for excuses to end them. Why do we simply quit, without trying to get the same warmth back?

I suppose the answer is simple. In our quest to quench our thirsts of power, money and success, emotions have become things of pity, fit only for those who can do nothing in their lives, aimless people. They are toys worth only a little playtime. What actually is needful in life is money, success and a great career.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

The Culprit

It so happens that many relationships are broken due to one single reason: ego. It is on both sides generally...but when talking about the martian sex, it has a specific name....MALE EGO. I seriously think that this male ego, is certainly different from the simple ego. Let's find out how.

She didn't call,
I waited.
It was the fourth day.

I. Why do you talk to him?
I don't like him.
She said nothing.
She listened to me,
looking at me with impassionate eyes.
Those eyes which once spake love.
Unable to hide
my anger, I left.

II. Why do you talk to him?
I don't like him either.
She said nothing.
She listened to me,
looking at me with impassionate eyes.
Those eyes which now demanded,
from me, a little sensibility.
Unable to hide
my discomfort, I left.

III. Why did you bring him along?
I didn't wanna meet him.
She said nothing.
She listened to me,
looking at me with impassionate eyes.
Those eyes which said it was enough.
Unable to hide
my insecurity, I left.

She didn't call the next day.
Nor the day after.
She didn't call for four days,
I didn't bother.
It was her mistake,
wasn't it?
She ought to make it up.
I wanted time alone with her,
not with her friends.
I wanted to talk to her,
not to her friends.
Yet, she brought them along.
Though I never said these things,
She should have understood.
Yes, it was her mistake.

Ten days passed.
Not a word from her.
I desperately wanted to talk
to her, but no.
I am not weak,
And I am not wrong.
If she can live,
without talking to me,
So Can I.

Why didn't you call me for two weeks?
I was dying to talk.
She said nothing.
She listened to me.
The deafening silence became unbearable.
Then in a heavy voice,
like a mourner, she said,
"She wouldn't call me again.
I was unbearable."
The phone went dead,
just like me.
I stood, and stood for hours.
Hah! What an excuse it was.
She was the culprit,
So she blamed it on me.

I got over it.
Of course, it was Her mistake.
Yes it was.

Tuesday, August 4, 2009


A description of romance through another object, Chocolate. I find it certainly romantic, hope you do.

A lovely evening it was.
The food delicious,
The companion beautiful,
The surroundings melodious.
A wonderful time we had of it.

I stared into her eyes,
Those twinkling black eyes,
Lined with Kohl and a little
Mascara, they fluttered and shied away.

Then with a determination,
She met my gaze,
Not to show the same old twinkles
but a mischief.
What's the dessert? she asked.
After a heavy meal, mushrooms,
It was not a concern.
Let's go outside, I indicated.
She understood.
We walked the beach,
The invisible sea making fearful sounds,
She held me tightly,
I thanked the sea,
I loved the sound of it.

Another fifteen minutes we walked,
Then finding a suitable place,
We settled ourselves.
The sea splashed our feet,
Breaking into a thousand droplets,
Raining on our toes.
She demanded for the dessert again,
I smiled and then took out from my pocket,
A bar of chocolate.
And then I saw,
The same twinkle in those loving black eyes.
But to my utter disappointment,
The cocoa had melted,
By the heat of my heart.
The bar was no more,
Just a thick fluid,
Tempting yet scary,
Like the sea at our feet.
We looked at each other,
Then decided in favor,
She tore the golden cover,
Just the top of it.

she took to her lips,
The thick brown liquid,
Squeezing the bottom,
Sucking the delicious blood of bitter cocoa.
I looked at her,
Wanting the melt.
She understood.
She gave me the packet,
I licked it happily.
A squeeze, and cold, molten lava,
Gushed onto my taste-buds.
The sensation tickled my tongue,
I closed my eyes and ummm-ed.
An exhilarating bite I had of it.

Two distinct drops had settled on her lips,
I saw her lick then away,
The gluey liquid spread itself,
Giving the lips a chocolate flavor.
She understood.
Her eyes were closed,
My eyes wide open,
While we enjoyed,
The blend of molten chocolate and lip-skin.
A lovely night we had of it.

The Caffeine

Coffee is not just a beverage. It is something more. Just tried to describe it in a few words.

It is a need,
A want.
A desire, fulfilled
only by having it.

It is a mood
A state.
A moment, lived
only by having it.

It is a smell,
An aroma.
An aura, defined
only by having it.

It is a touch,
A feeling.
An ecstasy, relived
only by having it.

It is flavor,
It is beautiful,
It is divine,
It is love,

It is you,
It is me,
It is nothing,
But us.
It is Coffee.

Thursday, July 30, 2009


What may happen when a lost lover remembers his love. A feeble try to paint a little picture of the scene.

सर भारी हो झूल रहा था,
दिमाग भी घूम रहा था,
कभी इधर-कभी उधर,
उसमे खो कर झूम रहा था
मैंने ऐसा क्या कर दिया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था

लाल आँखें बरस रही थीं,
उसे देखने को तरस रही थीं,
जलने लगीं, सो बंद कर लीं,
पाँच साल से जिसकी दरस नही थी।
जाने ऐसा क्या हो गया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था।

उठने की कोशिश की थी मैंने,
संभलने की कोशिश की थी मैंने,
न उठ सका, न संभल सका,
सहारा लेने की कोशिश की थी मैंने।
मैं, ऐसा कैसे हो गया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था।

स्वप्न लोक की लहरों को सहता रहा,
उसे देख आन्हे भरता रहा,
निगल गई धरती, खा गया समंदर उसे,
उसे मरता देख, मैं मरता रहा।
आज अकेला क्यूँ हो गया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था।

हाँ, अब याद आया,
मैं अपना घर छोड़ आया,
इस मधुशाला को याद करता,
अपने गम वहीं छोड़ आया।
यों मैं मुस्करा क्यूँ गया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था।

वो हिरनी जैसी घूम रही थी,
खिलखिला कर मुझको चूम रही थी,
नीच जात का कहकर मुझसे अलग किया,
उसे जलाकर ऊँची जात झूम रही थी।
जिंदगी पर हंस क्यूँ गया,
बस सोचा ही तो था।

यही तो सोचा था की वो मेरे साथ है,
यही तो सोचा था मेरे माथे पर उसका हाथ है,
बीमार पड़ा मैं कराह रहा,
दवा न खोजी, अब शराब ही जगन्नाथ है।
क्यूँ सबको अलविदा कह गया,
बस, सोचा ही तो था।

Saturday, July 25, 2009

The Arrow Striker

Off to the classes I was,
Riding fast, pedalling faster.
The destination was far and I was late,
Everything rested on my attendance’s fate.

70% was the minimum required,
I lurked around 69.
My stomach churned & grunted & groaned,
If late, to year-back I would be proned.

But fate wouldn’t be good to me,
The chain broke, the pedal slipped.
I fell head-on onto the road,
My tumbling body switching to accident mode.

The bag was spilled, its contents spread,
My neck was hurt, I thought it broke.
And all the hopes of passing faded,
And then fate turned, in my favour it weighted.

She came to my rescue,
Picking up my stuff.
She brought them to me,
But my eyes never let it be.

The wind blew mildly, bruising her skin,
Her clothes ruffled, her hair waved.
The pink of her cheeks grew pinker,
I confess, that’s what made me a thinker.

The white suit looked just fine,
No, awesome.
Two bangles in each wrist,
The light blue eyes seemed like mist.

She gave her hand to help me up,
I gazed.
She smiled and spoke, “Get up,”
Her voice was sweet, like 4 sugar cubes in a single tea-cup.

I grabbed her hand,
It was the only chance I thought.
I don’t know how I got up,
For her skin was softer than the cutest pup.

The touch was electrifying,
The sensation was amazing.
She handed me the bag and the books,
I didn’t even say a thank you, dumbed by her looks.

She turned and whisked away,
Never turning back.
I hoped she would, at least
once let me have again that feast.

I realised then that I was late,
And prayed to God.
God heard me, the teacher was kind,
Admitting me late, he didn’t mind.

I wasn’t in my senses anymore,
She was lovely.
She was everything I ever dreamed,
Beautiful, adorable and soft as if creamed.

Don’t know if I’ll see her again,
Don’t know if ever?
What I know is it’s amazing,
When I can’t feel a thing.

Just a small, sweet bite,
A little tinge.
When the arrow strikes from far above,
The heart beats faster and you know it’s love.

Monday, July 20, 2009

A Hopeful Despair

He rose slowly & steadily, careful enough not to wake her up. She stirred mildly and turned over, her hair falling on her shoulders in ripples. He sighed as he looked at her glowing face. She was smiling. He got up a little and then he heard his favorite music, the chirping of birds. They flew across him, away from their homes in search of food for their loved ones. He looked at them with a lovingness in his eyes, wanting to fly along with them but he knew he had more important things to do.

She was starting to feel his absence, but she didn't open her eyes. It happened everyday, it had to. How beautiful the last night had been, cool, calm and serene. She didn't want him to go for she longed for him, but she knew it was the longing that made their love so special, so strong. She lazily opened her eyes.

There were no clouds in the sky, the month was June. The day was to be sunny and hot. The wait was to be long and patient.

He climbed, all orange and red. The sea was shimmering with the morning light like a million diamonds rolling on a black floor. He climbed further, the orange fading a little, giving him a tinge of yellow. The number of people bathing on the ghats increased. Ladies and sadhus took a dip in the Ganges and then with cupped hands offered water to the rising sun, to Him.

She was fully awake now. He had gone for his work and here she was, waiting for him to come down again. Although he was no more with her, she could still feel him, his warmth. She saw him rise in the sky, all yellow now, shining brightly and she felt herself burning, with his heat, burning with the desire to have him again in her arms. And then, the stampede began.

People scurried, thousands, millions, billions of them, running around from place to place, for the sake of their work, for the sake of their loved ones. Some simply walked on her, some used automobiles. Some sat in their plush offices, some dug holes in her, taking the earth out and laying the foundation for the high-rises. He, too, was at his maximum now, blazing, raining fire. It was his work. She burned, and he hated it. But he couldn't do anything. He never mixed his professional life with his personal. I will make it up to her tonight. She understood, waiting.

The time had come, he was coming to her. She loved him like this, orange and red. He looked adoring. He came down slowly, making every passing second a million years. She knew it would be a great night. It always was.

He went down on her, going over the mountains and down the valleys. She loved it. She loved every bit of it. She closed her eyes, enjoying it. Night fell. She wanted to cry in exhilaration, the waves hit the shore.

I never loved him more, she thought and smiled. She thought it every night. They slept in each other's arms, waiting for another day full of the longings and hope, and another night full of its products.

Sunday, July 5, 2009


Not because you suffered, but because you were there,

when times were hard,

Not because you lied, but because you surprised,

when times were jovial,

Not because you hurt, but because you made me realise,

when I was wrong,

Not because you killed, but because you cared for me,

when times were dangerous,

Not because you left, but because you came back,

when I needed you,

Not because you hated, but because you loved me,

Do I, love you.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

No Matter

No matter how far,
I know you are always there,
For me, for our love.

No matter how crowded,
You always stand, calling out in an unspoken voice,
For me, for our love.

No matter how painful,
You never cry, but sometimes you do,
For me, for our love.

No matter how weak,
Communicate you do,
For me, for our love.

No matter how high,
You always climb the ropes of my expectations,
For me, for our love.

No matter how cold
I lie, you always return the same warm smile,
For me, for our love.

No matter how unreasonable
I become, you fulfil my desires,
For me, for our love.


No matter how hard,
I try and try again,
I find you gone,
Never to return,
Still I try,
For you, for our love.

No matter how vile,
I feel of myself,
Unable to live anymore,
But I continue doing so,
For you, for our love.

No matter how little,
I expect forgiveness,
For I was wrong,
I wish I had been right,
At least for once,
For you, for our love.

Now, there's just one thing I dread,
When I die,
I don't find you,
Standing the same way,
Waiting for me,
For us, for our love.


इस अल्हड़ सूखे ने सारी आशाएं डुबो दी थी ,
मन था निराश , थी उसे तलाश ,
फिर बारिश की कुछ बूंदों ने नन्ही कलियों को खिला दिया ,
उसकी मदमस्त हवाओं ने मेरा रोम -रोम हिला दिया ,
जी हो उठा झूमने का , जो ठंडी बयार चल पड़ी ,
पर तभी वो बारिश, वो अद्भुत बारिश लौट पड़ी,
मन हो गया विचलित , रही न खुद की सुध ,
अब तो बस यह पागल है , हर वक़्त खोया रहता है .

उस बारिश ने उम्मीदों को नया आयाम दिया ,
उस सूखे पर भी अपना छोटा -सा अस्तित्व कायम किया ,
वे सोयी कलियाँ खिल उठी , और वे खिली रहेंगी ,
अभी अभी अश्रुपूरित नेत्रों से उसे विदा किया था ,
पर अगली बारिश होने की राह तकती रहेंगी .

यह आशा भी अजीब है , जीने को मजबूर करती है ,
पर साथ ही जिंदगी के नए मायने समझाती है ,
हर वक़्त मन में एक उमंग जगाती है ,
एहसास कराती है की फिर से बारिश होगी .
हर बार पतंग की डोर कटती है ,
पर उसी डोर पर नयी पतंगे उड़ती हैं .

यही है जीने का सार ,की मानो न कभी भी हार .

आज नहीं तो कल , यह सुखा भी मुरझायेगा ,
जब फिर से बारिश होगी .....
बारिश ...बारिश ...बारिश .

Picture credits: