A Bitter Sweet Symphony!

2011-10-20T22:31:00.000-07:00

ONE

Sharing

Passion…

Play…

Freedom…

Togetherness…

Dreams…

Smiles…

Tears…

Fears…

Words…

Silences…

Creating…

Relishing…

Cherishing…

Forgetting…

Past…

Present…

Future…

Journeys…

“At-home”ness…

Wishing some we’ll shed,

And most we’ll take ahead,

It feels wonderful,

As You and Me

Turn

“ONE”

Today!

_Written on 19th July 2011, Our First Wedding Anniversary

2009-11-24T11:45:00.000-08:00

Hopeless Emptiness....

Plenty of people are onto the emptiness, but it takes real guts to see the hopelessness...

2009-09-30T10:04:00.000-07:00

Days

One day...a fire balloon, big and high up in the sky

Another one...a submarine deep down the ocean untouched by sunlight

Both so intense, involving...full of motion

Normal day....a tree....still...basking in the sun... soothing in the shade!

What day is it today?

2009-07-12T02:44:00.000-07:00

A word....without words...

Mirrors..

Sorrow..

Silence..

Noise..

Joy..

Sing..

Magnificent..

Illusion..

Reality..

Wait..

Stop..

Begin..

Noise..

Joy..

Sing..

Feel..

Cry..

Fool..

Wait..

Vain..

Pain..

Change..

Vain..

Stop..

Wait..

Silence..

End??

2008-05-20T01:27:00.000-07:00

Letters from this part of the sky

The seven-horse chariot’s not slowing down
Rescue comes with the cloud-capped stars
Above the foam, when the chariot’s gone!

The beasts running haywire
Lost in worldly affairs, duped and confused
Seeking comfort & escape from wounds self-inflicted!

The smoke’s still in the air
And I’m taking it in and it’s yet not in
Unable to breath, beneath the chariot, amongst the beasts!

The foam rises and recedes
The sands, touched by million, yet untouched
By the feet that walk beside me under the stars!

Heard the island’s painted blue
With the smoke in the air and the receding foam I saw
Isn’t it the same sky above?

There’s no rhythm in words above
But I’m sure there’s some rhythm somewhere
In the language of the island!

O my elusive islander,
Send those alphabets, send that sky above
Send those postcards to me!

2007-11-18T21:42:00.000-08:00

Mirrors

Who is it?
I don’t know
Can’t see it clear
Doesn’t say anything
Everyday, the same

Hey, look, I saw something
What?
It flashed for a moment
For a moment
It is someone
It was someone
No, it is.
It was.

What do you see?
It’s a bubble
Shining with our magnificent seven
I’m shining.
Hmm…I used to.

Look, I see it again
What?
It’s a peacock
Dancing in the wild
I’m dancing
Yes, I did.

It flashes again
What?
It’s a marble
Rolling forever
I’m rolling
Yes, I did…no more, though.

But why? I can
Only for a moment
Yes, but still.
Oh yes, but still, you can.
And I could, once.

Once, when
It shone….I shone
It danced…I danced
It rolled…I rolled
It did…I did

So much more…so much more
For moments…for moments.

It’s flashing now.
What? So now you can. But I can’t?
It’s too bright
But it’s cold
I haven’t seen it before

What is it?
It’s a closet
A key just unlocked it

What’s in it?
Something too bright…and cold
Different from the shining, the dancing, the rolling
Haven’t seen it before.

Something beyond the reflection….I can’t see

Does it speak?
It does
It says, “Look beyond”

What is it?
What is it?

You can’t. I can’t.

Only the closet
Nothing beyond.

The bubble
The peacock
The marble
All reflections

It’s the closet
Beyond the reflections
It is way beyond
Yes, it is way beyond

Keep looking
Keep looking
Someday, you will
Someday, I will.

2007-05-19T13:36:00.001-07:00

Ego vs. Self-respect

Ego is a veil for weaknesses.
Self-respect is an armor of strength to fight forces trying to make one weak.

2007-05-12T23:25:00.000-07:00

Socrates – the Joker of Athens

Socrates: A fascinating person; the man who was troubled by the fact that he knew nothing and still evokes so much interest amongst us after so many years. He continuously strived for finding the truth by not giving answers but posing questions and getting the answers from other people. His mother was a midwife, so his way of getting the truth out from people was by asking questions and challenging their mental faculties to make them realize the truth and not by giving sermons. His sense of wonderment at everything was like that of a child who is curious about everything in the world from day one. Most of these children like us slowly stop asking questions and take the world for granted and become indifferent. Some of these, rather a negligible lot become philosophers who never stop asking. Going by author Gaarder’s words, “A philosopher is someone who recognizes that there is a lot he does not understand, and is troubled by it.”

How often we chose to evade the fact that we hardly know a lot of things we should rather start asking questions to. Life is so mysterious that we seem to get exhausted for asking any further questions. We’ve trouble finding answers to so many of them already that we reconcile ourselves with a sort of myth that we can’t answer them or probably we’ll get answers in due course of time. Most of us actually don’t take our lives too seriously. Our actions seem to be guided not by asking questions from ourselves but seeking answers from others who in turn have got them from someone else. It’s like passing the buck. We like to get answers from outside, not from within. We all like solutions and not questions. As again author Gaarder says, “Giving answers is not nearly as threatening. Any one question can be more explosive than a thousand answers.”

2007-02-07T05:31:00.000-08:00

Mujhe hai yaad …

Mujhe hai yaad …

..woh ek hansi, woh ek jaagti hui subah
..woh chehra, woh us subah ki kiran
..woh lat, woh us kiran ki chhaanv
..woh kadam, woh ek tez leher
..woh khushboo, woh mehekti fizaa
..woh aankhein, woh kaaynaat hi saari

Mujhe hai yaad …

..woh mera har subah ka intezaar
..woh us pehli kiran ki garmaahat
..woh ek narm chhaanv ka sukoon
..woh tez behti leheron ka junoon
..woh mehekti fizaa ki khushboo
..woh kaaynaat ke rangeen khwaab

Mujhe hai yaad …

..woh subah-subah ki raftaar mein hi beh jaana
..woh dopahar ki dhoop jaise alsaana
..woh hansna aur khilkhila uthna
..woh gupchup doston ki baaton mein din bita lena
..woh cheezein rakh ke kahin aur hi bhula dena

Mujhe hai yaad …

..woh ladna aur jhagadna kissa-e-duniyadaari par
..woh ek si hi samajh hona gham-e-rozgaari par
..woh mujhse kehna tumhara ke kis baat pe chup ho
..woh mera kucch kehna aur kucch na keh paana
..woh hamesha ki tarah tumhara muskura jaana
..woh cheezon ki tarah sab kucch wahan bhula jaana

..woh kehna yun ke bhulaoge nahi tum humko
..woh shart rakhna ke main yaad dilaoon tumko

Mujhe hai yaad…
..woh sab jo kabhi hua tha magar
Main chahta hoon…
..woh sab jo kabhi hua hi nahi

2007-02-07T02:45:00.000-08:00

I knew you by your name once

I knew you by your name once.
I heard you speaking at the corner of a raised platform and I knew you more.
A third person told me stories about you and my knowledge grew.
My curiosity peaked, but you flew on a jet plane.
I still heard stories about you.
My 2-year vacation came to an end and so did the stories.
I knew you by your name again.
I heard you again on the same platform (in the centre with a tweaked accent) and I knew you more.
A fourth person told me stories about you and my knowledge grew again.
He told me you have a storybook where you scribble everyday.
My curiosity grew againYou were “in transit” and I almost saw the jet plane
Still found a piece of you through “We are the stories we tell”
The storybook tells me now that you’ll again be on the raised platform
And I won’t be there.
The third and the fourth person are close but their stories are old now.
These days, I spend more time with the fifth one, Your storybook.

-wrote this as a comment on someone, but fell in love with myself for writing this, so posted here

2007-01-08T00:39:00.000-08:00

Life is an excuse for death

This is a hypothesis that I thought of some years ago. Now it may sound overtly pessimistic, but I find it true.

We all are waiting for the ultimate truth. In normal circumstance, all of us are in queue as per our ages. Our lifetimes are actually waitng times. Our schools tell us what all is available on life's menu to kill time. We look at others to find what they have chosen to get maximum enjoyment. We follow them. Some of us are happy, most of us aren't. The former types are either the ones who are fully enjoying their time or the ones who are happy to find something to occupy time. The latter types are either the ones who aren't happy with whatever they have to kill time or the ones who don't have anything to kill time. Anyone can be in any category at any time depending upon who in the queue do you choose to follow (identify with).

Any takers?? Or should I find solace in these lines by Ghalib:
"Bak raha hoon junoon mein kya, kya kucch,
kucch na samjhe khuda kare koi"

2007-01-08T00:17:00.000-08:00

Mere ghar ke aangan ke sookhe patte...

Yeh sookhe patte jo ab in paththaron pe khamosh pade hain
jo kucch roz pehle hi lehraaye the hawaaon mein
jo un darakhton pe lade the hariyaali ke saayon mein

Mausam badalte hi darakhton ne unhe ukhaad phenka
palat-ti hui hawaaon ne unhe dhamm se patak diya
sadiyon se bejaan paththaron ne unhe sula liya!

2007-01-05T01:16:00.000-08:00

Mere pehle filmi bol...

Khwahishon ka bhanwar hai
manzilein saamne hain
raah par hain kadam bhi
honge kya kamyaab
Khwahishon ka bhanwar hai....

Kal nahi tha jo mumkin
kal bhi asaan nahi
hai yakeen aaj khud par
kal bhi hoga yakeen
ummeed se hai hausla
ummeed hi hai junoon
khwahishon ka bhanwar hai....

Ab kisi ka nahi darr
mushkilein hain magar
manzilon se bhi badhkar
hai zaroori safar
mushil hai kya, manzil hai kya
hai ab safar humsafar
khwahishon ka bhanwar hai...

Khwahishon ka bhanwar hai
manzilein saamne hain
raah par hain kadam bhi
honge hum kamyaab

-The above song was written by me for the film "Diploma", an FTII Acting batch 2006 students' film.
Copyrights with FTII, Pune.