Yaksaan-e-boond...

Surkh nagme yaksaan-e-bund, gir chali

Main pakharne gaya to oongleeon k faaslein kuch aise

Badh gaye, k haath se naatein chhutne lage.

Lafz toofano mein shaamil huye

Aur hum tum phir gyaroh mein badal gaye…

SLEEP vs SLEEP

After a number of minutes, hours, days and months I got a subject to write about. SLEEP it is. How many types of sleep can you name??? You...you...you...no one up for a game? Well let me make some guesses. Sleeping lazily, sleeping tiredly, pretending to sleep, sleeping with someone. For me the sleep of the night is extremely essential. I don't get to sleep much you see. But the sleeping with someone thing I mentioned, I tell you is a tremendously cunning thing. That can alone counter the previous ones. Trust me I experienced it last night. Well, no no no do not think that I am going to spill all the beans. NOPE!!! What I am going to do is tell you how it felt. I was all sweat. I could not breathe. I was feeling cold and I could not sleep.

Well, for people who associate romantically poetic prose with me, this post will be a disappointment. But frankly I am in no mood for either romance or poetry. I just want sleep. Which genre??? Lemme think...mmm...

I Am Sorry...

For the past three days I have been wondering what the hell has happened to my imagination? Why can not I type something down? I dreaded the thought that I need something, any goddamn thing to happen and act as a catalyst to make me write.

Then I realised words come out of me as a reaction against Pain. 'Against' pain because I need to speak, to console myself. How funny it is, that words come to reduce that which actualy generates them. I smile.

Insane, they call me; immoral they consider me to be. When I say, "I am like this" , they call me a hypocrite. I smile.

I thought a lot and decided to use this Forum as a platform to apologise to those who tolerate me, hate me yet have to stand me for some bullshit reason; and to those who for some stupid emotional reason consider me to be worthy of their love...I am Sorry; Sorry Maa, Sorry Bud, Sorry Sis, Sorry Madameji, Sorry Paagli, Sorry Mao and Sorry Sir...Sorry for being myself...

...remained in fantasies...

There was once a boy who believed in fantasies. He had all kinds of fantasies; the cute ones, the sweet ones and the wild ones too.
There was once a girl who was the only one to come in his fantasies. He could never make out any other face in his dreams. He didnt get bored though.
She was the fairy who turned the cursed stone-image of him, humane by a touch of her wet lips, in the cute dreams. In the sweet ones she was the one who walked to the altar, and vowed to love him tIll death part them. And once again and quiet obviously she was the one whom he always explored, deeper and deeper in his wild dreams. He always felt inferior and proud everytime he realised how much she loves him.
These were his dreams. She alone amounted to all his dreams...she remained in his dreams...remained there...forever...not to come back...

Agony

It happened yesterday, it happened the day before, and I know it will keep on happening ever and ever again.

Losses are products of deja vu. Sometimes you really feel frustrated when you cant make out that how on earth can anyone loose the same thing ever and ever again. And everytime you loose, the sound of the shatter doubles the previous one.

The funniest part is that the cause behind these unneccessary troubles is you; you who decide not to 'expect' anymore everytime you suffer, yet 'hope' for whatever you hope for. Good times make you feel that hope pulsates you, but when you really come to face the reality, hope has already shoved a dick called 'disappointment' through your ass straight to yor pulsating meter. And I guess it's a continuous process, just like the food-chain; probably one needs this losses and heartbreaks to stay alive, to be in track with life.

Well I might have been bullshitting all the way through the blog, but I guess you shall realise this only when you have lost enough.

Ride

It had been a fairly delightful auto-ride yesterday. I was returning home from a place called 'office', and I had this bulky man sitting beside me. All was normal, untill that man dressed in a black shirt with white bobby-prints and a black trouser, with a shaped-moustache took a cell-phone out of his pocket and made a call...pause...pause...and the man was swearing to destroy 'everything' to somebody. What followed was a 10 minute-long devastating conversation (of which I could hear only the one-sided opinions and accusations). The man was probably accusing his wife of infedility and 'perhaps' vice-versa.

I love these rides. An auto. Five people. Five different stories.

At that point, the others in the auto, including me were smiling and stealing glances amongst themselves. What a sadistic treat it was. I apologise to that man for making his private stuff public and thank him, cause his misfortune happened to bring a passing smile on the face of the other sadistic pieces of shit sitting in the auto. Long Live Sadism!!!

Sister...

I still remember the room in the nursing home where the doctor actually did succeed in making me feel jealous. He was teasing me with his weird ideas that I would be left all alone, uncared and unwanted. It still embarrasses me when I get reminded of the incident. Huha! My sister was born just a few days back and it really made me insecure when i was told that mum will be loving her more.
But this blog isn't about what I felt. Its about her, the little blessing of my life, the girl who completed me and mum, the girl who's one of the most honest human beings I've ever known, because she is the one who's my best critic. She criticises almost everything I do. Being the person I am, I couldnt ever manage to tell her what immense value she holds for me and how much I love her.
And now, when the girl who was the epitome of patience even as a little baby, has grown up. I look at her preparing herself for the first big examination of her life and I ask myself, " When did she grow up into this lady? Where did she learn to throw all the tantrums?...How did she become so beautiful?" And I smile to myself..."my little princess", I think...I realise once again, how much i love her... my SISTER.