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Home Archive for March 2016

I often come across people who are least interested in celebrating their birthdays or act like crazies on this day. Not because they do not love to celebrate their existence or they are too frugal to celebrate it but because they are no longer a kid. As if they celebrated their birthday when they were kids who used to do nothing but loo on their parent’s bed.

I find this reason a bit absurd. I mean, how anyone can stop celebrating their birthday just because they have aged. So, one day I decided to ask few people about it. Well, the answers differed according to their age but there was one statement which was common among them. The statement was, “Why to celebrate your existence on a particular day. One should celebrate their existence every day. What is so special about this day?” Oh, wow, this was something worth applauding for. Yes, I would have celebrated my existence everyday if I have had enough money to do so.

All was fine, till I noticed this sentence, “What is so special about this day?” Oh, yes, there is nothing special about this day because it isn’t the day on which you proposed a girl for the first time? It isn’t the day on which you went on your first date? It isn’t the day on which your so called first anniversary with your first girlfriend/boyfriend happens? It isn’t the day on which you got a medal or something? None of these things happened on this day. So, it isn’t special. Right!

Well, lovely people out there, a lot happened on this particular day and there exists myriad reasons to celebrate it.

On this day, you were born clad with your mom’s blood. The blood covered you from head to toe, when you were naked. Doesn’t this make the day special?

On this day, you cried for the first time. Your family giggled while you were crying. Doesn’t this make the day special?

 On this day, you made a woman, a Mother. A moment, every girl in this universe waits for. Doesn’t this make the day special?

On this day, you saw your parents for the first time. Your Grand Ma said, you resemble your mother and your father actually felt offended about it. Doesn’t this make the day special?

 On this day, you witnessed this world for the first time and you became the reason for increase in population of this world. Doesn’t this make it special?

If all these things don’t make this day special, I wonder what does. Just because you don’t remember these moments, it doesn’t mean that these moments didn’t happen. A lot happened on this day which you still are not aware of. 

Some of the people wouldn’t be there on your next birthday. So, why do you want to miss a chance to celebrate this day along with your loved ones? Go crazy this birthday. Act like a weirdo, gift candies as used to do in nursery class, get wet with happiness and let other soak in your ocean of happiness. Just do it. You never know, whether you would really get a chance to do it next year or not.

Birthday Cake, Cake, Birthday, Cupcakes, Candles, Party
*Under the blanket*

Each day, I long for the night just to be with her. Under the blanket, I enter a place where I surrender myself to her, confessing my love for her. Often, she doesn’t let me sleep. How would she? After all, that is the place where we finally acknowledge each other after a long hectic day.

Yes. There exists altogether a new world under the blanket.

Amid the walls of a silent room, we exchange words with each other. Her words slowly engulfs through my mind to my heart, making me see the impossible happening right in front of my eyes.

As I move myself closer to her, I finally see the real me.

As I close my eyes and let her enter inside me, she gulps every inch of negativity, making me pukka that I have ever been. With her aroma, I sense the grounds of optimism lay ahead.

As I put my feet onto the path, I finally see my destination, far but clear.

 I fight back throwing irrational thoughts at her, refusing to accept what she has shown me. But she stands like an austere woman who refuses to give up. Then, she entwines her hand in mine, taking me to another world.

As I walk with her, I realise, this path would be difficult but not impossible.

Then, I surround her around my arms, accepting her for forever. I fall asleep peacefully. Yes, the moment I accept her, I see the divine.

The next morning, when I wake up, I find her nowhere but in my heart. She makes it beat faster than ever. As I move out to experience the sun above, I know, she would be my ray of hope for the rest of the day. Then, I spend another day working harder, waiting for another night under the blanket.

People often call her ‘Dreams’ but I call her my ‘Life’.

Woman, Back, Blanket, Walking, Outdoors, Nature, Blonde




Image courtesy: Pixabay.com



Beat. Beat. 
His heart. My heart.
 At same place. 

Hear. Hear.
 With your ears. 
Can you tell us our religion by our heartbeats?

 No! You Can’t. 

Touch. Touch. 
His Skin. My Skin. 
By your hands. 

Color. Color. 
Fair. Dusky. 
Can you tell us our religion by perceiving our skin tone? 

No! You Can’t. 

See. See.
Through our eyes, this beautiful world. 

Same. Same. 
Isn’t the world same? 
Can you tell us, our religion by watching this world through our eyes? 

No, You Can’t. 

Flow. Flow. 
His veins. My veins. 
the red blood. 

Mix. Mix. 
Mix our blood.
 Can you tell us, to which religion this hybrid blood belong?

 No, you Can’t. 

Rain. Rain. 
His wet body. My wet Body. 
Soaked in water. 

Drop. Drop. 
Yes, we felt the same water drops.
Can you tell me, Which religion made these water drops?

No! You Can’t. 
Name. Name. 
His surname. My Surname. 
Combine both. 

Read. Read. 
Tell us, to which religion we belong? 

Yes. Now, you can.

Judge. Judge. 
Hindu. Muslim. Christian. Sikh. 
Tag us with these division. 

Fill. Fill. Fill our mind with discrimination. 
Will you succeed? 

No, you won’t. 
We are no fool, we are youth. 
We belong to humanity. 
Say it a religion, name it a God. 
Tag with whatever name you want,
 it won’t affect us, as we are attached with an invincible chord.

Hand, Buddhist Prayer Beads, Religion
Be my poetry, let me feel what other's don't. 
Be my poetry, let my thoughts unite with your soul.
Be my poetry, let me say the unsaid. 
Be my poetry, let my ink spread Indelible marks on your mind.
Be my poetry, let me defile you without even touching your body. 
Be my poetry, let me make you live till eternity. 
Be my poetry, let me feel what other's don't.

Rose, Book, Poetry, White, Pink, Tender, Memory


टीका, हाँ ये माथे पे लगा लाल टीका ही तो है, मेरी पहचान| लोग इसे कुमकुम कहते है और ये एक औरत के भाग्य में उसके जन्म के साथ ही लिख के आता है| जब ये दो शब्द मिल जाते है, तो ये कुमकुम भाग्य कहलाता है|
रोज़ सुबह जब आईने में खुद को देखती हूँ, तो असमंजस में पड़ जाती हूँ| सोचती हूँ क्या इस लाल टीके जितना ही ख्वाब देखा था मैने अपने लिए| याद आता है वो दिन, जब पूरी दुनिया को अपनी मुटठी में करने की चाह रखती थी मैं, जब मैं अपनी एक अलग पहचान बनाना चाहती थी| और अब देखो, क्या है मेरा वजूद? सिर्फ इस लाल टीके की गोलाई जितना | हाँ, आज मैं किसी की बहु हूँ, किसी की पत्नी और दो पायरे प्यारे बच्चों की माँ भी हूँ| अब तो मेरा नाम भी कोई नहीं जानना चाहता, सिर्फ सरनेम से ही परख लेते है मुझे| सच, आसमान की तरह, किस्मत भी कितने रंग बदलती है|
किसी को मेरे आँखों में बसे अधूरे ख्वाब नहीं दिखते, न ही किसी को मेरे आंसुओं में भरे दर्द जानने की चाह है| इसलिए आँखों में काजल और होंठो में लाली लगाकर अपने अस्तित्व को और दबा लेती हूँ, ताकि में खुद ही खुदको न पहचान सकूं|
परदे के पीछे से जब भी बाहरी दुनिया को देखती हूँ, तो लगता है आज, इसी वक़्त सारी बेड़ियाँ तोड़ कर बाहरी दुनिया में शरीक हो जाऊं, और जो टूटे हुए सपने है उन्हें बुन लूं|
जैसे  ही मेरे कदम आगे बढ़ते है, मुझे बहुत कुछ रोक लेता है| हाँ, मेरे ससुर की ‘खांसी’ मुझे रोक लेती है, मेरे पति का का ‘प्यार’ मुझे रोक लेता है, मेरे बच्चों का ‘माँ’ बुलाना मुझे रोक लेता है| सोचती हूँ, इनसे बिछड़ के अगर पहचान बना भी ली, तो क्या मिलेगा मुझे? शायद सिर्फ अकेलापन | आखिर, ऊंचाई में इन्सान अकेले ही तो खड़ा होता है|
बस फिर क्या, अपना बढ़ा हुआ कदम वापस से अन्दर लेती हूँ| खिड़की, दरवाजे बंद करती हूँ और सोचती हूँ, परदे के पीछे से बाहरी दुनिया को देखना ही बेहतर है| मैं परदे के इस पार की दुनिया में ही ठीक हूँ, आखिर इस आशियाने को मैंने अपने दिल के तारों से बुना है|

प्रेम की परकाष्ठा नहीं चाहिए थी हमें । महानता भी नहीं । हम तो छोटे लोग हैं। छोटे ख्व़ाब , छोटी ख़ुशियाँ , छोटी दुनिया । हमें भी बस अपनी एक छोटी सी दुनिया चाहिए थी । एक जहाँ , जहाँ हम सुकून से अपनी ज़िन्दगी बिताएं ।
हमारा प्रेम भी ऐसा कोई ख़ास नहीं था । हीर रांझा , लैला मजनूँ या रोमियो जूलिएट जैसी तो कोई बात नहीं थी हममें । हमने तो बस मोहब्बत की थी । सच्ची मोहब्बत। महानता जैसे शब्दों के चकल्लस से तो हम दूर ही रहना चाहते । हाँ , कुछ ऐसा रिश्ता था जैसे कलम का स्याही से , सागर का मछली से, बादल का बूंदों से जिसमें दूसरे के बगैर जीवन संभव तो था पर उसके कोई मायने नहीं थे । नितांत बेमानी सा जीवन।
कुछ 2 साल पहले मिले थे हम। जब उसे पहली बार देखा तो हवा नहीं चली थी , ना तो मेरे बाल ही अचानक उड़ने लगे थे , ना मन गुनगुनाया था ना ही गिटार बजे थे बस दिल धड़का था , थोड़ा तेज़ , एक सिरहन सी दौड़ गयी थी ज़िस्म में । हर मुलाक़ात के बाद धड़कन बढ़ती गयी । एक एहसास था ,एक मीठा सा दर्द जिसके बारे में अक्सर पढ़ा सुना तो था पर हमेशा अतिशोय्क्ति सा लगता था । पर आज मैं भी  इसे महसूस कर रही थी ।
नहीं , ये पहली नज़र का प्यार नहीं था । हमनें इसे हर घड़ी जिया था । ये कोई अचानक से उठने वाला सैलाब नहीं था , पर एक दरिया था जिसमें हम डूबे थे  हर पल ।
पर प्यार आसान कब रहा है ? काटों के बिस्तर से तो आप एक बार बिना चोट खाए निकल भी सकते हैं पर प्यार से ? सवाल ही नहीं उठता ।
हमारा अंतर्जातीय प्रेम हमारे समाज , हमारे गाँव,
हमारे परिवार की इच्छा ही नहीं , बल्कि संस्कारों के भी खिलाफ़ था । हमें हर 'तरीके' से समझाने के बाद भी जब हम नहीं माने , तो हमें जिंदा ज़मीन में दफना दिया गया ।
हमारा प्रेम इतना विशाल था कि इस श्रृष्टि में समा ही नहीं पाया । माना लोगों ने हमें नहीं अपनाया पर हमें इसका ग़म नहीं है , क्योंकि वो कभी हमारे प्रेम की गहनता को समझ ही नहीं पाए । वो नहीं समझ पाए की प्रीत को बांटना संभव नहीं ।
ख़ैर , हम अपनी छोटी सी दुनिया में खुश हैं । यहाँ ना कोई ज़ात है ना भेद भाव । सुकून है यहाँ की हर गली में । शायद लोग इसे जन्नत कहते हैं पर हमारे लिए तो यह हमारा छोटा सा प्यार का आशियाँ है ।

 It’s been ages since I last met her. But I remember her vividly; her brown skin, soft texture, her smell and her never ending love. Her memories are all I have. 

We are so far from each other but our soul is too close. I have never touched her body but her soul is embodied with mine. Yes, we have individual hearts but rhythms of beats are same. Yes, we don’t meet often but she is the one who comes in my dream every night. 

Being in a long distance relationship is not an easy task; one goes through a lot of hurdles to maintain it. Amidst doubts, all I have is trust bestowed on her. Albeit I trust her very much, but sometimes, I become a possessive lover. Isn't it obvious, when you have such a beautiful lover who is so far away from you.

Sometimes, I think, What if she forgets me? What if she finds someone better? And although , I never utter a word about my insecurities but she somehow understands and gets hurt. I don’t know how , but I think telepathy works in our case . 

To show her anger, she hurts herself, sometimes, she tear herself apart and sometimes, she remains hungry for days and turns herself weak and dry. And then I howl with pain and weep my heart out to her and that is when it rains. I do it because I know my tears have the power to heal her. She, like a mad and insecure lover, soaks my tears and takes every inch of my pain inside her. And when she gets wet, she smells marvellous; her aroma fills the entire universe with magic and next morning, she blushes hard, making everyone envious of her beauty and then I smile brightly with pride, that she belongs to me. 

There are times, when I  adore her while she is asleep from distance away. I know she is afraid of darkness that is why I lit all the lights of my home, so she wouldn’t be afraid anymore. Yes, she looks alluring at night. When she sleeps in peace, I feel pleasure in guarding her and protecting her from the evils of this world and sometimes, when she catches me looking at her. She smiles like a little girl who waits for her prince charming and she knows one day her prince charming will arrive and that would be the day, when they will be together till eternity. 

So far yet so close 
lustful yet so pure
 too far to be with each other 
but our love is hard to wither
we are two ends of this universe
 I am the Sky and she is the Earth.

Heart, Love, Romance, Valentine, Romantic
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