Two People Don’t Fall In Love At The Same Time

I fell for her
Like a star falls for the night.
And she fell for me too
Although not at the first sight.

Apparently, two people fall in love
But not at the same time;
One falls first and then waits
Days, weeks, months – for the other to realize.

And if you feel that is harsh;
If you feel love is cruel,
Just wait till you reach the end
Where love makes you a fool.

Because just like falling in love,
Falling out of love isn’t synchronized either;
Usually, one person walks out too fast,
Leaving the other person emptier than before.

And as long and difficult as waiting for someone
To fall in love with you can be,
It is worse when you are crawling out of it alone
And you have to make it look easy.

बेगाने

न तुमने हमसे कुछ कहा
न हमने तुमसे कुछ कहा
सब कुछ अजनबियों से कहने लगे
अपनों और अजनबियों में अब फरक ही कहा रहा
|

अधूरी बातें अधूरी रह गयी
अनकही बातो को तो वक़्त ही न मिला ;
सब कुछ कह गया तुम्हारा ज़मीर
हमारी खामोशी को तो मौका ही न मिला
|

बेबस जज़्बात मेरे, मजबूरी में धस गए
दिल की कश्ती को कोई किनारा न मिला ;
बेचैन अफ़सोस मेरे लावारिस हो चले
तुम्हारे चैन
सुकून को लेकिन, उनका ठिकाना न मिला |

गीले शिकवे भी अब किस काम के
इनपे अब हमारा कोई हक़ ही न रहा ;
ये सब तो रिश्तो के नतीजे है
यहाँ तो अब कोई रिश्ता ही न रहा
|

***

अजीब हो चला है वक़्त
हम ज़ाया कर रहे है
,
फिर भी ये बीत नही रहा ;

ज़िन्दगी भी सस्ती हो चली है
हम खर्च कर रहे है
,
पर कोई खरीद नही रहा |

 

इश्क भी बदल रहा है करवट
पहले खुशिया ही खुशिया थी
अब दर्द के सिवा कुछ दिख नही रहा

तुम भी बेगाने से लगने लगे हो अब
पहले तुम्हारी आदतें सही लगती थी
अब तुम्हारी हरकतें
, दिल समझ नही पा रहा |

 

रिश्ते भी कितने अजीब होते है

किसी के साथ प्यार से ज़िन्दगी बिताने की कोशिश करो
तो सालों तक इंसान कोशिश ही करता रह जाता है ;
और उसी इंसान को ज़िन्दगी से निकालने की कोशिश करो
तो कभी कभी ज़िन्दगी भर उस एक इंसान को भुला नही पाता है
|

***

अब क्या नाम दे तुम्हे, समझ नही आ रहा

दोस्तकह नही पा रहे,
दुश्मनदिल को भा नही रहा ;
अनजानेतुम हो नही,
और अजनबीदिल बुला नही पा रहा |

शायद ‘बेगाना’ बुलाना सही रहेगा तुम्हे
क्यूंकि अपना अब तुम्हे कह नहीं सकते ;
बेगाना कहने में भी लेकिन एक अपनापन है
जो चाहे भी तो हम बदल नही सकते
|

Death, the dead and our awkward silences.

“I think we forget things if we have no one to tell them to.”

I have seen Lunchbox but I had totally forgotten this piece of gem in it. I came across this recently on twitter again and it stuck me.

It’s so true! It is also one of the biggest fears that I have – that I will forget things just because I don’t talk to anyone about them.

Death and the dead.

My mother passed away 4 years ago. But I never talk about it to anyone. I don’t actually know why but I don’t like talking to people about it. We, as a society, have such a bad and depressing attitude to death that it just feels like we are doing something wrong. Whenever we hear someone lost someone close to them, our first reaction is ‘Oh, I’m sorry’ and there is no further reaction post that. We don’t like to talk about death. We don’t like to talk about the dead. No one does. We just avoid the topic. If someone among my friends ever by mistake bring up my mother or death in any conversation, they suddenly say sorry and change the conversation. I don’t understand it and still, I am a part of this. I don’t like to talk about my mother. I don’t tell about it to anyone. I haven’t told my closest friends about it. I just don’t like the sympathy and awkwardness that comes with it. I think we have a very poor and unclear way of dealing with death. We sympathise for a second and then we are afraid to ever bring it up. Why is that? Is it because the person will start crying? Or is it because you don’t want to remind them of the loss? Why do we avoid talking about the dead? What is the worst that could happen?

Some people do it right, though. I remember when I told my girlfriend about it. We were on our first date and I had no intention of bringing it up. I didn’t want to seem like I was trying to gain sympathy by saying that. (See, this is what I think is wrong with us. Why would it make me feel like ‘sympathy beggar’?) But we somehow landed on the topic. And I didn’t want to lie to her. I really liked her and I didn’t want to screw it up by being dishonest. Plus, I had a feeling she would take it right. So I told her. I told her how much I loved my mother and how much it hurt to have lost her. I told her how pathetically lost I have been since her; how she was everything to me and how loss of the most important person affects you. I remember when I started saying that to her, she held my hand throughout. When I was done telling her everything, I had tears in my eyes and I remember she hugged me and kissed me on the cheek. I am not saying every girl should kiss me when I tell them I have lost my mother but am I wrong to say we seriously lack compassion? What she did felt good. To tell someone your worst loss and have them understand and respond in an appropriate way, feels good.

This has been one of the worst thing to happen to me. I don’t know if anything will top this. Death and loss is difficult to deal with. And with the mentality that we have in our society, it just gets tougher and tougher. I don’t know why I hide it from everyone but I would like to stop doing that. Only if people stopped looking at me with sympathy and had a little more compassion, it would be easier. I have never blogged about this either. I have never posted about this on facebook or twitter. I don’t like to publicise that I am an orphan (with a father). I don’t like to be reminded of that. But I have this constant fear that I will forget details about her as I don’t talk to anyone about her. I don’t want to do that.

So here I am, talking about my mother who I lost a little over 4 years ago. I loved her. She taught me everything – from being patient, understanding, compassionate, loving to being smart, passionate and human. ‘Never shout at your brother and sister when they do something wrong,’ she used to tell me. ‘The whole world will criticize and blame them when they make a mistake. This is the time when they need you the most.’ I have tried to live up to it. ‘Always put family first. They matter the most no matter what they are and how they behave, family is all we have got.’ I remember this and try to live by it in life’s most mundane activities like making sure that my uncle(who is divorced and a loner) is not being left alone when we go to attend weddings because she used to make sure of that. I try to do things that she did and live by her principles and lessons.

I see my sister taking care of the family and I think of my mother. I think of how proud she would be of her. The way my sister takes care of everyone, talks to everyone in the family, makes them understand each others point, tries to sort out the fights that we all keep having – I think of how my mother should have been alive to see her grow into a woman. My mother worried so much about her, I wish she could see how much of her is left behind in my sister.

I see my little brother taking care of my granny and I think of my mother. I think of how happy she would have been to see him be so responsible and grown up even though he is just 15. I think of how much she is missing. I see my brother respecting other girls in his class; I see him do good in school; when his school teachers tell me he can do better in study, it doesn’t bother me but I am the proudest person when they tell me he is the most sincere, respectful and decent student in the class. I take pride in the fact that my mother’s values are not lost. She is the one who inculcated all the habits in him. She is the one who taught him compassion, love, empathy, respect and standing up for those who can’t do it for themselves. And she would have been so proud to see him grow into those and much more.

I miss how my mother will never be able to see how she moulded our lives. I sometimes feel sorry that she will never know how much we loved her. I miss that I will never be able to tell her that again. I miss that I will never be able to hug her and feel safe and comfort again. I miss that no one will ever believe in me and understand and love me the way she did.

People die, alright. But we don’t have to forget them. We don’t have to not talk about them. We don’t have to be afraid to shed a few tears in their memory. I wish we were not so awkward about death and the dead. I am now ashamed that I have never spoken about her to many people. And I fear I will forget her. I don’t want to forget her. I want to remember all I can about her. And the best way to remember is to keep talking, right?

I love my mother. And I miss her.

कोई और दे न दे

अपने दर्द के दलदल में
हम खुद ही अक्सर धसते जाते है |
खुद मुसीबत खड़ी करते है
और खुद ही उसमे फसते जाते है |

दर्द / दुःख
बाँटने से कभी मिटता नहीं |
पर किसी का प्यार साथ हो
तो ये दूर दूर तक दीखता नहीं |

तन्हा कौन नही है इस दुनिया में?
पर अकेला रहना ज़रूरी तो नही |
मुश्किलें है तो क्या हुआ ?
सब लड़ाइयाँ अकेले लड़ी जाए, ऐसी कोई मजबूरी तो नही |

 

एक बात बताये?

तुम्हे युँ दर्द में देख के
अच्छा नही लग रहा |
कुछ कर भी नही पा रहे
कुछ समझ भी नही रहा |

तुम कुछ कहो
तो हमे भी समझ आये,
क्या बीत रही है तुमपे
हम भी समझ पाये |

ज़ोर नही डालेंगे तुमपे
पर तुम्हे तन्हा छोड़ना नही चाहते
तुम्हे इस हालत में देख के
हम भी बस आधे हो जाते |

 

खैर,

जो भी हो, जैसा भी हो
एक बात तुम्हे बता दे,
हम हमेशा देंगे तुम्हारा साथ
कोई और दे न दे |

Bad name

Empty corridors
Forever waiting;

Abandoned corners
Always suffocating;

Unknown shadows
Looking for a name;

Forbidden narrows
And the constant blame.

 

A life full of suffering
And intense pain;

A past filled with longing
For a moment’s vane;

Immense hatred
Linked to it’s name;

And the utter loneliness
That comes with fame.

 

 

But perceptions and prejudices
Slowly change;

With a tinge of hope
And factors strange.

 

 

To some, empty corridors
Provide calm and peace

Abandoned corner is
Where lovers kiss.

Hidden in unknown shadows
An extrovert cries;

And in the forbidden narrows
The adventurer thrives.

 

 

So don’t stress too much
Over the connotations

Take it on the chin
And create your own implications.

 

‘Cause
Suffering and pain
Are Useful resources.

Greater the longing
Stronger the forces.

Choosing a past
Is not in our hands.

But what you decide to do with it
Decides where you stand.
So here is the crux:

Don’t let your past define you
So what if you’ve got a bad name?
You are more than what people call you
You are not something, a name can tame.

The Friendship Should Last

Is it too naive to expect
That relationships will last?
That people will stay
And not become past.
 
Is it too stupid to assume
That friends will always matter?
That whatever happens
The friendship will keep getting better.
 
Every relationship grows
Into a beautiful thing;
Until it gets ruined by expectations
And the search for meaning.
 
Every friendship vows
To last a lifetime
Until life gets in the way
And spoils all rhythm and rhyme.
 
The start of every relationship
Makes you feel immensely special
The bond is just growing strong
And everything just falls into a pattern.
 
But as the good times pass
I often fear, the worst might happen
That people will leave
And I will be left alone; forgotten.
 
Hence all I ask is for us
To stay in touch.
The friendship should last
I don’t ask for much.

बस प्यार रह जाता है

समय बीत जाता है
वक़्त भूल जाता है
दर्द कम नही होता
बस नम हो जाता है

आँसू सुख जाते है
दर्द निकल जाता है
जख्म कभी नहीं भरता
बस निशान मिट जाता है

इंसान चला जाता है
रिश्ता टूट जाता है
यादें कभी नहीं भूलती
बस एहसास कम हो जाता है

सब कुछ ख़त्म हो जाता है
हर लम्हा भूल जाता है
कुछ रह जाता है तो वो प्यार है
बस प्यार रह जाता है.

सपने

सपने हम भी देखते है
बस किसी से कहते नहीं
दुनिया हम भी जितना चाहते है
बस कोशिश ज़्यादा करते नहीं

अरमान हमारे भी दिलो में है
बस ध्यान उनकी तरफ देते नहीं
पर चाहे जितना धुत्कार दे
दिलो में सिमटकर, ये सपने रहते नहीं

क्योँ कोई करेगा हमारे सपनो पे भरोसा
कोई सबूत अपनी काबिलियत का
हम कभी दे नहीं पाये
एक तुम ही थे, हमारे अस्तित्व का सहारा
एक तुम्हारी उम्मीदो का बोझ भी
हम उठा नहीं पाये

ना जाने क्योँ अब भी देखते है हम सपने
ना ही इनके पर है,
ना ही पर के नीचे हवा
ना जाने कहा बचे है वो अपने
जिन्हे अब भी हम पे यकीं है
जिन्हे है हमारे सपनो पे भरोसा

बदलती ज़िन्दगी

Rains

Rains

ये बारिश की बूँदें
गीली मिट्टी की खुशबू
पल पल तड़पती, बेचैन
मेरे तन्हा दिल की आरज़ू

बचपन की यादें
पहले बारिश की भिगन
माँ के हाथ के पकौड़े
रेडियो पे पुराने गानो का चलन

बेझिझक बारिश में नाचता,
मेरा मासूम बचपन
बेपरवाह खेलता, गाता
मेरे दोस्तों का संघटन

आज भी भीगने का मन करता है
पर वक़्त की कमी का बहाना होता है
जानते है मन की ख़ुशी सबसे बड़ी होती है
पर ख़ुशी से कीमती, हाथ की घडी होती है

जेब में कुछ पैसे है
बस्ते में कुछ चीज़ें है
मन में डर बीमारी का है
कंधो पे बोझ ज़िम्मेदारी का है

गीली मिट्टी की खुशबू अब भी हमको भाति है
पर कमरे से ही अब, ये बारिश सुहाती है
बचपन के बेफिक्र दिनों की कमी खलती है
पर शायद इसी तरह से, ये ज़िन्दगी बदलती है.

Guilt

Feeling-Guilty

For my silence
That cost you
Your home, your life

For my prejudices
That robbed you
Of respect and a fair fight

For my inactions
And my cowardliness
For my excuses
And my shamelessness

I deeply and sincerely
With all my heart apologize
For my inactions had consequences
I never realized.

I’m not making excuses
There is nothing I can say that’ll suffice
But I still wanted to say sorry
To let you know that I now empathize.

Everyone makes mistakes, they said
That’s how you learn;
But some mistakes let me tell you
Are not worth the lesson learnt

Some mistakes turn into guilt
They are like scars on your heart
They constantly remind you of your mistake
Until the mistake becomes your life’s part

Nothing that I say or do
Can make things alright
Nothing I say or do
Can bring back your life

So, in my feeble attempt to cure my guilt
As a small consolation, that it was not all in vain
On my life, I promise you this
I’ll never make the same mistake again.