Heads I win, Tails you lose!

I want to keep this narcisstically-self-indulgent-blog-of-a-thing as original as possible, but today it simply can't be. And may not be for some time to come. For you see, I am neck deep in love with Ahmed Faraz . I wish I could express even a tenth of what he does, the way he does it, but we know I can't. So, skip amateur me, and welcome this genius.

us ne kaha sunn
ahad nibhane ki khatir mat aana
ahad nibhane wale aksar majburi ya mahjuri ki thakan se lauta karte hai
tum jao aur dariya dariya pyaas bujhao
jin aakhon mein doobon
jis dil mein bhi utron
meri talab aawaz na degi
lekin jab meri chahat aur meri khwahish ki lau
itni tez aur itni oochi ho jaye
jab dil ro de
tab laut aana

You may call this being optimistic or naive or impractical or over-confident or trusting or risk-taking or too-much-in-love or whatever... I will call it letting-go-on-a-leash.

[ For the uninitiated, here is a little translation...
She* says...
Don't come back to me just for the sake of keeping a promise you made
For those who consider promises as onerous obligations are often tired of keeping them
I will let go of you...
You are free to find love elsewhere
Get enchanted by another pair of eyes
Get lured by another heart
My longing will not call you back
But
When my desires reach their zenith
When my heart cries out for you
Then, come back]
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* I take the liberty of defining the gender here because I am not able to see this from the perspective of a guy. Apologies, Ahmed.

A name on a bus

In a crowded bus
Where people sway
Like dried up leaves
On a shivering tree
A group of girls
Discuss a crush
Your name shines
In their glee

And

On the front page
Where headlines
Compete for sight
An old wise man
Ignores your name
Sitting in protest
Anti reservation views
And goes straight to
Reading business news

And

Those little hands
Good with grasp
Grab some hair
A woman gasps
A woman shouts
Your name in ire
The toddler laughs
Mimics your name aloud
Feeling quite proud

And

I stand and see and hear
Till it is too much to bear
To hear your name thrice
In this short span of time
I get off before my stop
I am about to blow my top
I know you are not to blame
Still...
Can’t you have a less common name?

------

Don’t quote that what is in a name
Because with that name is a face
And with that face is a shared life
That very life you chose to escape

Because your macaroni lacked cheese

Imagine these as bullet(points)

"You never hug me?"
"Yes, I am afraid I would never let go."

"You have never given me a present!"
"I tried, but I am unable to find anything that deserves you."

"Why don't you call me often?"
"I would rather call you darling."

"Why are you never serious?"
"Because you like comedy movies."

"Are you even listening?"
"I am all ears, and I am all yours."

------------------------------------------------------------
Or it could have been titled, 'How do men survive estro-gun'

let a few illusions remain

Imagination deceives dangerously. You can construct an entire life out of it. Be pursued after. Fall in love. Have a break up. Find love again. Marry. Have kids. Have an extra marital affair. Be forgiven. And all other shitloads of soap-opera crap. And when you get tired doing that, you realize that the house you are sitting in is very lonely, nothing good is coming on TV, your phone has not rung in the past two hours and Gee! no one is online on g talk.

On top of that, sooner rather than later, this reality sinks in that 'Pride and Prejudice' will always be fiction. Hundred percent fiction. Aah! Et tu, Austen?