Loss

Whatever little poetry I write, rhymed or otherwise, I have never really struggled with it. It just comes to me and I put it down somewhere… But not today. Today, I have an idea, a desire, a deep sense of loss, some elusive words… but I am scared to pen down my thoughts, because I do not want to grant them the luxury of permanence that comes with writing.

Instead, like someone who loves rain but hates getting wet, I take refuge in the words of another poet, who is Javed Akhtar, who has written this so well that it is universal, and thus, his loss becomes universal too. I am not even attempting a translation here, because if you can't understand in the language it is written, then there is no point in reading this.

Main bhool jaaon tumhe, ab yahi munaasib hai
Magar bhoolna bhi chaahoon to kis tarah bhooloon
Ke tum to phir bhi haqikat ho koi khwaab nahin
Yahan to dil ka ye aalam hai kyaa kahoon
Bhula saka na ye wo silsila jo thaa hi nahin
Wo ik khyaal jo awaaz tak gaya hi nahin
Wo ek baat jo main keh nahin saka tumse
Wo ek rawt jo hum mein kabhi raha hi nahin
Mujhe hai yaad wo sab jo kabhi hua hi nahin
Agar ye haal hai dil ka to koi samjhaaye
Tumhe bhulaana bhi chaahoon to kis tarah bhooloon
Ke tum to phir bhi haqikat ho koi khwaab nahin

Have you ever come across something that exactly articulates your thoughts ... something you were afraid to express yourself?

A Pseudo Devotee

Today is the eighth day of Navratras
I do not know the exact reason
For this nine day festive season
But in all sincerity
This effort to bribe prosperity
Does not appeal to me.
Still,
In a house which is not my home
With people I only met yesterday
In front of God who isn't my own
I pretend to pray
For things I can't get alone
And He just may

Random Queries

Oblivious

Aren’t there days when you feel
Like not getting out of the bed
Skipping life’s big little deals
Just lie around pretending dead
Oblivious of the alarm peals
And the routine of being led

Pretensions

There is a person you disdain
Who is always too busy to smile
At a child, or eat, or talk, the vain
Pretensions of professional life
Tell me, what exactly do you do
When you realize that person is you

Tales

Weren’t there times when you wished
They would stop asking little details
Of what you ate and how you slept
And now, there are no calls or tales
You have grown up, you convinced them well
So, when they let go, why it hurts like hell

Promises

Aren’t there nights when sleep
Evades you like she once did
Never to return and keep
Pending promises of eternal bliss
And in destiny’s mocking sweep
Love outran you, you stood still

Absence

Some old letters have a stale smell
Of unsaid words and visible lies
Like ‘yours forever till I die’
And then going away, snapping ties
Taking his cue, you moved on too
But why his absence walks with you

Distance

Not a word for eight full days
Waiting calls and hurried ways
How far do you need to be
For a long distance relationship
Hundred, thousand, five thousand miles
Or on the same bed, facing different sides