Nani

The stars come out and the sun still rises,

And the night gives in to the day.

I smile and even laugh through the times,

As life continues to carry on.

But in my moments of solitude,

I think of you and I pray.

The dark pit deepens,

As I recall your quivering voice.

The bitter realization that I won't hear you again,

Shrouds my day.

Your support always made me strong,

And made me proud of myself.

It was your sheer belief in us,

That kept us going strong on our ways.

The frail touch with an iron will,

Is what can describe you a little.

You are not with us by our side, 

But you will continue to stay.

Because you are with us forever,

Even after we leave and go far far away.

Questioning Forgiveness

What is Forgiveness?

Is it for the weak or for the strong?

Is it an act of cowardice or of strength?

Does it mean, we are over it or that we can no longer fight the feelings inside?

What is Forgiveness?

Is it an outward or an inward activity?

Is it an act or just self reconciliation?

Does it need to be done when someone asks for it or is it something we should just do on our own?

What is Forgiveness?

Is it done for others or is done for one's own self?

Then who should it affect more, us or them?

Does it calm you or does the bitterness always remain?

What is Forgiveness?

And when is the right time to forgive?

When you are at peace or when you are seeking it?

Is it right to forgive when we still have feelings or only when we are detached?

But if we are detached then why would we care to forgive?

What is Forgiveness?

Is it an end to the questions or the beginning of new ones?

Is it just a lead to the next hopeful action?

Does it end there or does it shroud you once again but later.

So, Is it like a wild-goose chase?

Which ends but never gets over?

Are these questions just in me?

Or are these felt by everyone?

I just don't know yet.

Roti

बड़े प्यार  से खेत खलियानों में सींची गई मैं 

लहर लहर कर, मस्त पवन के झोंको में पाली गई मैं 

खुश हाल सी ज़िन्दगी में, खूब खिल खिलाई भी मैं 

और एक दिन, उस शीत लहर के बाद, सबसे अलग हो गई मैं 

होकर दूर सबसे, अलग, कहीं धूप में रही मैं 

हार सूख कर, बस ऐसे ही खो सी गई मैं 

पहुंची चक्की पर, सब सच्चाईयों में पिस भी गई मैं 

और मसल मसल कर गूंदी हुई लोई बनी मैं 

बेलन के ज़ोर के नीचे दब कर निशस्त्र पड़ी मैं 

और फिर जलते तवे पर, असली ज़िन्दगी भी जीली मैं 

उस आग के अंदर फूकी हुई, कुछ जलि जलि सी मैं
फिर तेज़ आंच पर भी सिकी मैं

उस गर्म कोयले की कालक में भी रंगी मैं
चिमटे की चोट खाकर कुछ नुचि नुचि सी मैं 

पर अंदर से अभी भी वही नरम, पर हार कर अब खत्म सी मैं. 

Friends 2014

And they say,

"So and so" are now friends.

And we were.
But when grounds were better than walls.
Hearts were connected, fake invitations not at all.
Even public announcements were private.
Poking a friend was so direct.
Tiny letters held the messages.
Sometimes emotions captured in long passages.
A hand drawn face with a crooked smile.
Cleared the misunderstandings held up for a while.
And today with 1000s with us, we feel alone.
So many familiar names but faces hardly known.
Unread messages waiting like nuclear stock piles.
20M requests sent from 200M miles.
Phone numbers lost.. Voices forgotten.
Just in touch with everyone not so important.

I wish I could still go to a park and share a bench.

And in 15 minutes of silence still have the best conversation with my 'friend'.

Happy Dreaming :)

And I sit happy, for it is Saturday afternoon – my happiest time of the week.

Happy because I am doing what I like to do the most.

Happiest because, I have tomorrow, to do this yet again!

I sit on the window porch and gaze at the clear skies and the white clouds and they ask me to write a poem.

I stare at the glass bottle toying with the idea of creating a creative space for myself and it asks me to replicate the bottle art designs, I saw yesterday.

I feel the want of a hot cup of tea and the urge asks me to learn to cook and to cook regularly, to make my family and friends happy.

I listen to the music, the beats make me drum the plastic bottle in my hand and ask me to learn the drums one day.

I smell the lovely incense in my room, and it transcends me to the thought of discovering new places and asks me to travel the globe.

I read a book with the imagery chalked out in my thoughts and it asks me to spread my words across, to people someday.

And as I sit looking at the clouds, reading the book, listening to the music, whiffing the incense, they all make me smile and ask me to dream, to dream more, to dream more often and fulfill one everyday.

Ambivert

Tacit I am for the world

But essay is what I am on the inside.

Like a droplet I look to all

But sea is what I am on the inside.

Blank is what my face conveys

But canvas is what I am on the inside.

An idea is what I have for all

But a book is what I am on the inside.

A Prayer is what I mouth

But hope is what I am on the inside.

Defiance is what I show

But rage is what I am on the inside.

Stoic is how I want all to see me

But rebellious is what I am on the inside.

Like an onion,

So many layers I am,

And I don’t want to expose all.

I am just the tip of an iceberg,

Still, massive and waiting.
Little is what I Look on the outside

But I am not and I hope I am never that on the inside. 

Untold..

There is so much in me..
Unknown and untold.
So much, that even I don’t want to know
Things hidden inside
Which make me what I am
For which I have no explanations
But inferences which matter to me
Whatever there is
Imperfection and oddities
Some I want to change
But mostly I don’t.
I don’t know how the changes might affect me
But those irregularities have been in me
They have been me
I don’t want to be the perfect person
I choose not to be
Cause I want to be what I feel from inside
At times dark, hidden & secretive.
But darkness also trumps one’s good side
As positive is not always true
And most of the times, what is untrue is what you want to be
Cause you continually think and aspire for it
I want to be, what I want to have
Cause sometimes, ends are more important than the means
Sometimes.