If I could, I think, I would have chosen you.
The power to choose was with me, all along
but still I know you would never believe if I told you
that it was not me who was the one making the choices.

Many a times I feel, the choice for me was made
long long ago, even before I knew about decisions and their manifestations.
Long before I knew to think, rethink, long before I knew the power of my decisions 
over me, over you, over all of us.

In a vain, silly moment I decided without knowing that I was getting
into something I could never change, without wanting with all my heart.
Even to dare change it would alter who I was, who I am and who I will be.
The moment like one of those where passing by a field you discover the colour purple and stand transfixed.

It is my decision, but I feel no love towards it.
I don't feel enough hatred to tear away from it.
And I know my existence is stuck in a limbo.
Each breath tells me the tale of being hung forever and whispers ghastlily that its my own doing.

I listen to it and close my eyes, look upwards, look inwards and just die.

चाँद सी रोटी या रोटी सा चाँद

माँ अब मैं भी रोटियाँ बना लेती हू, कुछ टेढ़ी मेढ़ी, कुछ कच्ची पक्की
चाँद सी तवे पे अपने ही रंग रूप में जलती भुनती
कुछ गोरी गोरी निखरी सी, कुछ काली खट्टी नकचड़ी सी
गुंथे आंटे का रंग बदलता संवरता सा, कुछ सृजन का सा एहसास देता हुआ

सब अच्छा है माँ, अपनी रोटियाँ देख कर बड़ी ख़ुशी होती है
उनमें सब कुछ होता है
वो गोलाई, वो रंग, वो खुशबु
बस एक बात रह सी जाती है
माँ वो आपकी रोटी सी मुलायम कभी न बन पाती है.

I become the father, I become the child.
I run wild while I stand and smile.
Every minute it feels there is a transformation happening and every other second it speaks, almost reeks of it all being so utterly same.
Now there is a blush and suddenly the wrinkles form.
Now they are dark as the night and suddenly a hint of grey, I see moonshine.
Can't compare, can't say who is prettier, the young lass full of untouched anticipations in her eyes or the silver lady full of experiences sublime.
It is all the same. I see me. I hear me. I feel that bond.
The gurgling chuckles of the baby, the earthy laughter of the grandmother.
It feels good, it feels me, it transforms, it ignites. It is a passion, it is what keeps me calm!

As a kid I always thought people separate and stop talking only when one of them no longer exists and that's also because God intends it that way.  Nothing else can make two nice people in this nice world to act otherwise ever. Growing up has meant revision of certain facts. Unlearning and re-learning.
I know for a fact now that people do separate and they do stop talking and yes they are both alive. Not just the people who exchanged not much and only casual pleasantries but also people who have been immensely close to each other. Maybe the most close to one another. One fine day they just stop talking. Either by mutual consent or otherwise but they do and life carries on and they pretend as if it is all right. They carry on with what they have been doing. The clock ticks by the hour they called or when they got the call and they pretend everything is fine, "call whom, what". They play, they sing, they work and they carry on without telling the other person about all of it rather any of it and they pretend that this is how it was supposed to be, this is how it had always been. Familiar songs, familiar terrains pass by and they are just there unmoved and maybe unconcerned.    
While they live this life, are they the one you knew. Or is it a different person leading a different life. Do they react in the same manner, talk in the same way, laugh at the same pitch.
Would I recognize you if someday our paths crossed somewhere. Would I find you or just a faint reflection of someone I once knew?  

Of locks and keys

I love my hair, not for the compliments it brings my way but for the fact then when left loose, almost always that is, it covers my face. A little tilting the head down and no one can see those warm tears quickly gushing below. They are my strength they are my veil. They are beautiful and mysteries they entail. It is my camouflage my terrain. To play with them to tussle them to tie them back in a tight knot when in pain, confused or with some important task at hand.
Tightly tied over some hours it gives me a slight headache and the moment it is loosened it is like freedom. Freedom to swish, to sway, to feel the wind, to follow the rhythm of its heart.

Just read it somewhere that when nothing goes right, just go left. What if left ain't left as a choice. What if you over ruled it much much long ago. Where do you go? Just sit there and wait for an air balloon to come and take you to a far far land not restricted to the lefts and the rights or just wait for a sinkhole to occur that gulps you down and transports you much beyond. They both are ways that lead you out. One towards the rainbow and the other to the clout....it is not always about the choices we make but more so the things that choose to take place.    

Blank noises

.................. it is getting late
just stop....stop where you are
ask for directions...
and just come
asking for directions ain't wrong
believe me...no body is gonna think any less of you...
but please understand...you have to come....
have waited so long....can't any longer

The patronus charm

A lot of what Dumbledore has said makes complete sense to me, at least the kid in me. I know there are death eaters and dementors. I have almost seen them moving around, behaving in the fashion as attributed to them. Among the foulest creatures walking on earth they suck out every happy moment, every trace of hope from another creature leaving him or her with the worst experiences of life. To fight off dementors one needs to use the Patronus charm. The charm requires remembering an extremely happy memory, a powerful one that allows you to lose yourself into it. And it this memory that fights off the dementor.

But what do you do when while you are casting the Patronus charm all that you are remembering is the dementor and time spent with it. What if the best of the happy moments were spent in the company of the dementor. Yes, of course, who you see in your memories does not resemble the dementor before your eyes but what if you know, know it with all your heart that it is the same person.

The Patronus is the only charm against the dementors. But with a dilemma like this I guess there is no other choice but to resign to the fact that you are going to be sapped of all you have to be left behind as a dark, numb creature whose soul has been carried away for all eternity. Help Dumbledore!

It is autumn, once again

I feel really sorry for all the effort that you invested in turning my spring into autumn. Poor you, do you even know how much I love autumns. I always have. They are beautiful. It is a time of sepia tinted view of nature at its bare best. The glory of stark nakedness stripped of any adornments whatsoever. The carpet of crunchy leaves, beneath my feet, that crackle with passion at each step. It is not about having the spring and basking in all its glory. To love, to adore and be awe-struck with all those psychedelic colours is an easy talk. But the greys and browns are what really matter. What the world really is made up of. Thanks for the autumn, I am having a ball.

ऐफे कैफे,
पूछा तो पता चला बस ऐसे ही
बताया गया की, अरे जनाब पता नहीं था आपको
ऐसे ही तो
वाह भई, नयी चीज़ सीखी आज हमने भी
भले ऐफे ही सही मगर सीखी तो...
शुक्रिया है जी आपका

उलझी उलझी सी हूँ,
सुलझा दो.
एक अरसा बीत गया,
अब तो बता दो.

ज़माने बीत गए,
लगा की सदियाँ गुज़र गयी,
और इतना उलझ गयी  
जैसे बिल्ली के साथ लगा उन का गोला

अब बस मैं हू
और मेरे ताने बाने
और एक मीठा सा इंतज़ार
समय को रोक क रखा है इस पार

अनजाना ही सही पर कुछ बहुत ख़ास है
बहुत करीब हो इसका एहसास है 
जब दीदार होगा तो सालों का अनजानापन 
बस कुछ पलों का मेहमान होगा

कभी साथ ज़रूरी होता है
और कभी इंतज़ार
कभी जान कर प्यार बढ़ता है
और कभी अनजाने ही दम निकलता है

देर तो हो गयी है
पर कौन कहता है इंतज़ार हमें नागवार है
तुम आना, दम निकल जाए बस इससे पहले
अपने वजूद का एहसास कराने 

यही कही आस पास. अपने ताने बानो में उलझे से
कुछ रूठे से, कुछ मने से
तुम हो ये बताने, सालो के इंतज़ार को मिटाने
सदियों के संगम पे तुम्हारी राह तकूंगी में.

Abstract but not absurd

Up and away....I walk I sway...here we go...way past way
Some say music.....some say noises...sometimes they are just in my head - the voices
I got my rhythm, I got my beat...but yes oh yes...firmly on the ground are fixed my feet.
I feel me...it feels good....I know who I shall...I know how I would
Not that I have it all decoded....but the stuff before me ain't gets me jaded
This is the time...here is the place...here I stand...face to face
Not yesterday beckons not tomorrow blinds....it is in today the treasures we find
Feels so good....not for what comes my way...but for the simple fact that I feel this way