Chanda Ki Doli

Har ek duaa mein usko hi maanga sadaa

woh bhi mujhe maang le...

Forbidden Love

 In a sea of black, this is the only red;
the only breath of fresh air in her stifled world
yet they tell her it is a crime;
a crime that she will pay for dearly.
Dark eyes under a star studded veil look this way and that
searching, gazing
dreaming of futile things
things she reads only in Mills and Boon.
Clandestine meetings, hurried phone calls
she whispers frantically
afraid that someone will hear,
afraid that she may lose her life.
Betrothed to a man with three wives,
she dreams of escaping her hell-hole
envisioning a new life
a new land
a couple of children maybe
just like in Mills and Boon.
They told her she would pay for it dearly
and the last thing she sees
is the glint of a double-edged sword
and her father's face, contorted with fury.
In a world where honour is paramount
she is nothing,
nothing but a hollow wooden toy.
Graveless, she languishes beneath the ground
and in a sea of black, her red stands out
glowing jewel bright
trickling through
like a teardrop down her pallid face.

and all across the land

they silently cry from within

lamenting over love that was never to be,

their own little secret

burning them inside out like coal.

Forbidden love

that must be silenced, they say.

Wildflower

In this unforgiving wilderness

in a land bereft of life

two roses bloom, softly, silently

all alone in some forgotten corner.

Surviving gunshots and empty eyes

they grow beside each other

bloodstained and withered

yet alive.

In a land devoid of compassion

this is the only splash of colour

....two roses bloom

their roots intertwined with each other.

Growing steadily on a diet of flames and tears,

with each wound and slash,

the roots dig deeper into the ground

intertwining with each other

never to let go.

Two roses bloom

spreading their fragrance all around

but it is masked by the smell of gunpowder and blood.

The petals are slowly falling off

one by one by one

but they cling to each other,

deep down in the soil

never to let go.

Everybody.....SHAAVA SHAAVA!

I thought my life wouldn't ever be the same again after I left Xaviers after finishing the 12th. I was really sad that most of my friends would be continuing there and I was going to another college. The thought of being without them scared me.

Then, IHM Mumbai happened. Infact, one of the best things to have ever happened to me.

As a fresher, I remember my life being inundated with rules, rules and more rules. Don't wear this, don't wear that, no makeup, no jewelry, no loose hair....why, it was like going back to school all over again! Why, we even had a uniform! And my day now began at 7am and got over at 5pm, sometimes 6pm. It was crazy. I had never in my life imagined college to be so tiring. To top it all, getting through each day, dealing with difficult teachers, lectures, monthly unit tests, practicals....I had my hands full.

It took sometime getting used to the fact that I was part of a class with a strength of 53 male and 12 female. Dealing with ogling seniors was yet another skill I picked up. It was kind of new for me, being surrounded so much by the male species, giving that I attended a girl's school and my class of 110 at junior college comprised a hundred girls. My new friends were really nice people. Turned out we had common friends in Xaviers and so we got talking. I would get to meet my  old friends only once a month, if I was particularly busy, then twice a month. I would be very jealous when they would call me up and ask if I wanted to join them the following day for lunch; and I would say in a small voice, "No, I have college". I missed them terribly.

Gradually, as time passed, I began seeing that however gruelling it was, I was having a lot of fun. After all, there aren't many places where you come to class wearing a chef's uniform and learn how to bake bread and make cakes :) We would go mad trying to perfect the recipe for mayonnaise and bechamel. Handling meat and fish was a different story altogether. Stuffing your stuffing-filled hand "up a dead bird's ass" (as Phoebe Buffay rightly says) wasn't exactly appetising. We were taken once to the slaughterhouse to see poor little animals breathing their last. Educational excursion, we were told.

However much I cribbed and griped, I waited for college to start every Monday. I liked it there now. And my friends were the best.

I didn't only cook, as people may think. I cleaned tiles, sinks, floors, wooden doors, brass thalis, silver spoons, nearly every kind of surface on the planet. We said it was free labour for the college. I didnt understand at the time, but it was their way of teaching us to overcome the queasiness of doing odd jobs. Sometimes I would be so tired that all I wanted to do was go home. But to watch a chef writing 10/10 in his markbook after tasting a roast chicken that you and your partner worked hard to make, was something that made it all worth it.

Then came the second year. Quite simply it was a BLAST. We now had juniors! And no one admonished us for our hair or clothes anymore, which was the best part. I, for one, was very happy.

Quantity kitchen was another source of great joy for me. We had now moved on to Indian cuisine :D and cooked food for the entire college there. The kitchen would resemble a community center with everyone peeling, chopping, cooking, ladling and stirring food that cooked in utensils the size of small bathtubs. I miss those classes, echoing with our songs and chatter. We had a ball during our last day. The most memorable incident there was when we had our hands burning from deseeding chillies. They were burning so badly we had to take a half day from college and come home!

I'm a changed person now. IHM transformed me. To be able to wittily retort to a comment was something I could never do. Now I can do it without batting an eyelid. IHM is, in my opinion, as close to the big bad world as one can get. Survive here; and you can conquer the world.  My new self laughs at my old self and wonders why it wasn't on the scene a few years back.

As we temporarily leave college for Industrial Training, I just wanted to say that I'll be missing college and you guys a lot. Tanya, Tanvi, Sid, Biggie, Trevor, Shweta, Urvashi, Zahabia, Vinayak, Shubho, Shrutika, Taha, Delmer, Nachu and so many others....I had loads of fun with you guys. Thanks for everything :)

SACCHHHIIINNNNNNN!

Random

Do pal tujhse juda tha

aise phir rasta muda tha

Tujh se main khone laga

judaa jaise hone laga mujhse kuch mera

I miss you.

Ramblings Of A Murderous Mind

Sometimes, I find myself sobbing away for absolutely no reason. It happens spontaneously, when I'm listening to music, or daydreaming, or reading a book. I don't know why.

I have an exam tomorrow. And I swear I could pick up my laptop and throw it outta the window. Bad idea, on second thoughts, since my entire life rests in there. I am dead. Really.

I get these sudden bursts of anger where all I want to do is shout and cry and throw things around. Hell, I want to do that right now. Stupid exams.

I never get angry normally. But on the very rare occasions that I do, you'd want to stay away from me. I mean it. I can get very, very nasty. Sometimes, even the slightest of things ticks me off and then I swear I could shout my head off at the concerned person. But it never happens.

Someday I will shout and scream and scream some more. And no one will be able to do anything about it.

Why do people not understand the value of memories? It really hurts me a lot when you're around them for practically ages and then when you decide to go your own ways, poof! They don't want to be seen talking to you, to want to have anything to do with you. It's like you don't exist anymore for them. While here you are, trying to keep peace, writing scrapbooks and diaries, reading old yearbooks, trying to relive memories which are important only to you. Not nice.

Someone, somewhere is made for you: is a concept that I have mocked since as long as I can remember. My justification for it, is this: you can never spend your life waiting for someone to come to you. Unless you make the effort, nothing is going to happen. It sounds lame, I know. But I think so. We live in a world of practicality and convenience. I don't think it will work.
(people who disagree, sorry :P)

Why do people fall in love with the wrong person all the time? From an outsider's view, it looks all jumbled up and wrong. But when you yourself look at it, it begins to make sense. You stop seeing the negativity in the person. Kind of like "tujh mein rab dikhta hai, yaara main kya karoon?" Then you don't care if the person is weird or deranged etc.

I'm done being the nice, Helpful Jane. I want to be someone else now. Something that brings out the Scorpion in me.


P.S. I think Ranbir Kapoor is really hot ;)

Technicolor Haze

Cloudy, indecipherable memories swirl round

I can't see them; 

cant see through this haze.

Lights flicker red and green

yellow and purple

a face flickers in and out

an empty bottle of Jose Cuervo at my feet

my head heavy and reeling

a writhing mass around me

undulating in and out

in and out.

Swaying to the beat in one corner

a face flickers in and out of my mind 

like the smoke in a crystal ball

memories swirl through me

blood pounds in my ears

bringing to life stolen glances, shattered hopes

a dreamland locked away somewhere

now unleashing its magic

creeping through my veins.

I'm lost now

lost in this technicolor haze.

Guzaarish

Aa jao

dekho sooraj dhalkar laut aaye panchhi

raat ho gayi

dekho nikal aaye tare

so nahi sakte hum

intezaar hai tumhara

laut aao, ab toh

 Chaar deewari hai, par ghar nahi

daulat hai par khushi nahi

sur hai par awaaz nahi

baaton ka matlab nahi

Sab kuch hokar bhi

kuch nahi...

Aa jao

lauta do sab kuch

lauta do humari dhadkan

jo uda karti thi panchhi ki tarah

lauta do woh ankaha rishta

jo baandha tha tumse

lauta do humara dil

jo le gaye the tum

is samay uski sakht zaroorat hai.

Dekho raat ho gayi

nikal aaye taare

ek ek karke saare diye bujh gaye

ab sirf ek chaand hai humsafar

tum toh kab ke akele hi chal diye.

Mitti toh insaanon mein farak nahi karti

saans tootne ke baad

wahi mil jayenge hum aur tum.

Tumhari aankhein hai

jin mein meri parchhai nahi.

Meri dhundhli aankhein hai

jin mein tumhare alava

aur kisi ki parchhai nahi.

Khidki hai

par koodna nahi chahte.

Zindagi hai

jo jeena nahi chahte.

 Aag hai jiska dhuaan nikalta nahi

….aur bina maut aaye

bina chikhe chillaye

apne dard mein samaye

paagal patanga jala ja raha hai.

 Aa jao

dekho akele hai hum

aur so nahi sakte

intezaar hai tumhara

laut aao, ab toh...

Reminiscing

A glimpse of an old photo

brings memories flooding back to me

If only I could rewind my life

and let it play again slowly

I long to occupy the empty seat

where your bag is now placed

Do you still look up at my window

and then remember that I've gone away?

I wish I could go back to the past

and let my voice echo through

that no matter what happens

I'll always be there for you...

Chori Chori

This is a brilliant rendition of the folk song Chori Chori, by Pakistani popstar Meesha Shafi, originally sung by legendary folk singer Reshma (of Lambi Judaai fame). It re-emerged on the third season of hugely popular Pakistani live music TV series, Coke Studio.

Enjoy Meesha Shafi's hauntingly melodious voice, as you sink in.

For the uninitiated, here are the lyrics:

Ae ve main chori chori tere naal laa layyan akhaan ve

Without anyone knowing about it, I locked my eyes with you (and fell in love)

(repeat)

Main chori chori...

Very quietly, very discreetly...

Duniya toh jakhaan te main duniya

I will keep this love hidden from the rest of this world

Jakhan te main pyar tera rakhaan

Nevertheless, the love I have for you is safe

Ve main chori chori tere naal laa layyan akhan ve

Without anyone knowing about it, I locked my eyes with you (and fell in love)

Pyaar peeche har koi mittiyaan vee chhaanda

In the pursuit of eternal love, lovers will even sieve sand

Jis da na ik pal vir meri jaan da

Not even a single moment of my life is mine now

Phir vee main jhallee hoke

But the simpleton that I am…

Raah teri takkan

I sit here, waiting for you to come to me

Ve mein chori chori tere naal laa layyan akhan ve

Without anyone knowing about it, I locked my eyes with you (and fell in love)

Main chori chori...

Very quietly, very discreetly.

Yearning

Ranjha ranjha kardi main

ni aape ranjha hoyi

Ranjha ranjha saddo ni

mainu heer na aakho koyi

Ranjha main vich, main Ranjhe vich, 

gair khayal na koyi
Main nahin au aap hai

apni aap kare diljoyi
Jo kuch saade andar vasse, 

zaat assaan di soi
Jis de naal main neoonh lagaya 

oho jaisi hoyi.

Repeating the name of Ranjha
I have become Ranjha myself.
O call me ye all "Ranjha,"
let no one call me Heer.
Ranjha is in me, I am in Ranjha,
no other thought exist in my mind.
I am not, He alone is.
He alone is amusing himself.
My identity is that
which is in me.
Now I am like him
Him, whom I love.

(Original poetry by Bulleh Shah)

Ankahee

Bas nishaan reh gaye hain

kharaashein kab ki bhar chuki

par marham koi kaam nahin karta

kyonki un sabhi adhuron ka daag

jalta hai, ab bhi.

Sawalon ke jawaab chahiye.

Poore hone wale khwaab chahiye.

Maang rahe hain

par koi sunta hi nahin.

Dekh rahe hain sabhi

par koi kuch karta hi nahin.

Uparwaale ki dhun par naachti hui

iss tarah rang badalti hai duniya

ke girgit ko bhi sharminda kar de.

Humein sach jhooth ki samajh ab tak nahi aayi

kyonki sabhi ne naqaab pehne hain

jo kabhi utarte hi nahi,

apne kirdaar nibhate nibhate
zindagi raakh kar gaye.

Suna tha, "zarre zarre mein usi ka noor hai".

Nahin chahiye aisa noor

jo kabhi dikhta hi nahi.
Nahi chahiye aisi roshni
jo andhera naa bhaga sake.

Jwaar bhaate ki tarah ho gaye hai hum

iss bhag-daud mein

agar do pal ruke bhi

toh khel khatm.

Andhere mein jeete jeete

kaundhti hui roshni se nafrat ho gayi hai

andhera kar do thoda

usi mein paate hain aaram.

Khamosh hai lehrein

lekin bheetar panap raha hai toofan...

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

One word for this song: WOW :)

It's not a silly little moment,

It's not the storm before the calm.

This is the deep and dying breath of

This love that we've been working on.

Can't seem to hold you like I want to

So I can feel you in my arms.

Nobody's gonna come and save you,

We pulled too many false alarms.

We're going down,

And you can see it too.

We're going down,

And you know that we're doomed.

My dear,

We're slow dancing in a burning room.

I was the one you always dreamed of,

You were the one I tried to draw.

How dare you say it's nothing to me?

Baby, you're the only light I ever saw.

I'll make the most of all the sadness,

You'll be a bitch because you can.

You try to hit me just to hurt me

So you leave me feeling dirty

Because you can't understand.

We're going down,

And you can see it too.

We're going down,

And you know that we're doomed.

My dear,

We're slow dancing in a burning room.

Go cry about it - why don't you?

Go cry about it - why don't you?

Go cry about it - why don't you?

My dear, we're slow dancing in a burning room,

Burning room,

Burning room,

Burning room,

Burning room.

Don't you think we oughta know by now?

Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?

Don't you think we oughta know by now?

Don't you think we shoulda learned somehow?

                                                  

Unbreak My Heart

She lay there, using her bag as a pillow, right in the middle of the grounds. The huge building towered above and all around her. All she could hear were cicadas chirruping away in some corner. Only a few parts of the building were illuminated and there wasn't a soul in sight, save a stray cat prowling here and there. There was a slight nip in the air since it was late evening. The moon was out already.

Her friends had avoided her that day. All they had done was offer her their sympathetic words and just left her alone, when all she wanted was for them to come and hug her, or at the least, buy her some chocolate to make her feel better.

The scene was beautiful, just like what she used to dream of. But today, she just couldn't appreciate how beautiful it was. Until last week, every Friday, she looked forward to the end of classes, when she would go out with him for a quick bite, then come back and lie under the moonlit sky. Just the two of them, hand in hand, looking up at the sky; and then at each other. Sometimes they would sit and talk for hours, until one of them would glance at their watch and realise it was time to go home. He would offer her his cardigan if she felt cold. It was her idea of Dreamland. Their little escape route from Reality before they parted ways for their long train journey home.

With him, she felt warm and secure, like an invisible quilt draped over her, shielding her from every cold night, every day that she had to go to bed on an empty stomach. With him, she felt her pain dull and her life become a more bearable one to live. She hated going home each day to her perpetually quarreling parents and the incessant cries of her baby brother, waiting to be fed. She'd sometimes notice him staring at her frayed clothes and footwear and torn exercise books, not saying anything, but understanding it all. Each day they left for home, he never forgot to hug her and tell her that he promised to be there always, no matter what. She loved him with all her heart.

She sometimes felt weak and vulnerable inside, with the thought that he had become so much a part of her identity, that she now found it hard to be without him. This made her feel guilty with the misunderstanding that she was never there when he needed her. When she did finally gather the courage to tell him this, he had shut her up with a kiss. She still remembered his words, "Just looking at you every day gives me the strength to carry on with life...so, my dear, never say things like this again".

She stared up vacantly at the sky, counting the stars, because she wanted to sleep right there and not let his thoughts torment her all night. But she couldn't. She could feel the tears coming for the umpteenth time that day. Before she knew it,  her petite frame was racked with sobs that just wouldn't stop. His memories came flooding back to her...all his hugs and their letters, countless evenings spent at the beach....it all made her sob afresh. She could feel the energy draining out of herself. Suddenly she felt a slight shiver and instinctively reached out for him....but a sharp stab of realisation told her he wasn't there.  She lay there like that for sometime, lost in his thoughts, cold, empty, destroyed.

Glancing at her watch, she realised it was time to go home. But she couldn't bring herself to get up. She saw her phone blinking and felt her heart leap, half expecting a message from him…but it was from one of her friends, with the same sympathetic words she was so tired of hearing now.

"I love you :) can't wait to see you tomorrow :)" was his last message to her.

Tragically, the "tomorrow" never came.

He passed away in a car accident the same night.

"I'll always be there for you, no matter what", was what he had once promised her. His premature exit had left her feeling heartbroken and betrayed. 

But what she didn't know was that he had turned into a star that twinkled whenever she looked up at the sky, watching over her always.

He had kept his promise. 

 

vichhodeya ne maar leya
kiven jeevaan, mainu samajh na aaye