bawra mann

Seems like it's from another era altogether, those towering spires, those wooden benches and the chattering of my friends.

I read my old diaries and chuckle at my own stupidity, at those many futile hours I spent filling pages, only to tear them out later. Pages written in in a melange of languages...English, Hindi, Marathi, German, Spanish.

I feel like doing the same nowadays. But I don't want to relive all that, all over again.

There are a lot of things I need to write about. I must.

jalte charaghon mein neend na aaye

phoonkon se humne sab taare bujhaye

-Gulzar