Sukoon

Khidkiyon ke sheeshe ke paar
Bauchaaron ke beech
Tharrate patton ke galiyaaron mein
Mera koi ehsaas simta baitha hai

Hawa ke rukh se behaal
Raaston kee geeli fislan par ladkhadata
Chal chal kar rukta wo ehsaas
Ab kuch samajh me aaya hai

Kisi yaad ko pakadkar
Kal ke kalpurzon se nikal
Aaj kee safed chaadar odh
Phir koi saamne aayaa hai

Feeki see muskaan shuru hui hai
Hothon se nikal
Aankhon kee palokon se chipak
Us ehsaas se jaa mili hai

Is chhat kee munder par bahot baar aayi hoon
Bikhree hui rahti thi humesha
Aaj ek tinka nahin hai
Wo bhi sukoon mein lagti hai

kuch adhoora sa...

kuch ruka sa hai
fansa hai kahin
dhuan saa,dhund sa
thama hai kahin

talaash kar rahi hoon
andhera hai,nami bhi
tatolti hoon kuch khaas
milta hai fisalta bhi

ab sochti hoon ruk jaun
shayad thak gayi hoon.

A walk in the rain

Its strange how when you think of writing about something-you don’t know where to start and when you do you can’t stop. As a friend interestingly pointed out-I start speaking in the second person the moment am intending to criticize myself and it even goes to a third person when the criticism is severe like for instance-they all are like that-the people of the world…blah blah.Works when you want to shift the guilt...eh? (There I go again!)

So coming back to where I started-this happened on a late morning, couple of days ago. On a day when a particular news channel-“India V.T” or was it “Kal Aaj Aur Kal” was announcing that the city was to go down the drains (literally, possible and believable) with videos marked “files” showing waves lashing out of some sea. On another channel, a hassled looking guy with a hooded jacket was standing besides a Tata Sumo with 4 guys on top of it. He was saying- “Jaisa ki aap dekh sakhte ek baar phir Mumbai hui behaal..Aaiye jaane iska aankhon dekha haal”. (Man! this guy was good at rhyming!) “Hum khade hain Mumbai ke ek vyasta ilaake me jahan log fanse hue hain...wo jahan ban pad raha hai...Apni zindagi ke liye latke hue hai.” The camera just then zoomed on a passerby busy happily talking on the cell phone followed by a voice-“gaadivar focus kara “(Roughly translated to – focus on the car) ” and the camera zoomed in where it was to be meant to in the first instance. Before the man could finish elaborating on the inconveniences of subjecting one’s butt to the roof of a vehicle (pardon my language-or is it unwarranted till I use its synonym..a certain a**?) –I swiched off the I-Box (The ‘I’ does not stand for Internet). I looked outside the window. It was drizzling and decided to take a walk in the rain.

As I came near the gate of my building the watchman called out (should he be called watch-person keeping in mind the gender equality trend in line with the likes of chairperson, etc?).”Maidum - aaj haiee taid hai haiee taid-aaj duniya khatam hone waali hai”.As I looked at him nonchalantly patting the tobacco leaves and baring his beetle leaf stained teeth-I was surprised by the unremarkable impact of doomsday on this guy. He might as well have said – “Maidum aaj doodh waala nai aayegaa”

As I tugged my jacket closer and walked on the road, I saw the shutters of “Siddhivinayak” drawn up and sacks of grains being pulled out to display. Heard Raoji – the store owner call out – “Walk pe niklaa hai kya...bain-staind pe khoopach public hai…aap bi jao..Chutti hai…he he”. I smiled at him and continued walking. A couple of rickshawaalahs were gathered at a tea stall. One said-“aaj suboo se hee carter pe ricksaa lagaya.Do ghante ke andar paanch sau...khaali idhar se udhar...he he”. So Doomsday Tourism was turning out to be quite profitable for some people. There were some BMC vehicles marked on the roadside apparently in anticipation of the calamity. Prolonged periods of sleep curled up on a seat is said to induce high levels of action orientation or so I thought looking at our “rakshaks” enjoying their late morning siesta.

The rain had stopped. The sun was shining with determination against all odds as if to disprove the media and weather bureau speculation of its performance. I smiled hearing a passerby on a by-cycle singing, “Dhaga li laagli kadaa paani them padaa...”

And I walked back home

What I Want

I would love to know what I want
For what I need has been made clear, aplenty

I would love to know
That which will bring joy to my heart
And start a smile on my lips

I would love to know
That which I want to hold on to forever
And know that I will never let go of

I would love to know
That which I will know to be right
And have my conscience in agreement

I would love to know
The state that defines happiness for me
The being I will want to call my companion
The act that brings me peace

Will I ever know?

u do friendship with me?

Orkut is an odd and mysterious creature. To some, the social networking giant is a way to keep in touch with whats going on and having everyone you know at your fingertips. Well, the Internet is a creature in of it's own and when it is combined in a melting pot with your social life there are bound to be horrible consequences.

Here is a guide to aid you in friend selection to make your life easier:

1) U do friendship with me

I am almost tempted to reply - Sure..will ya plz tell how on earth do i "do" frienship--is it like "doing" drugs..or "doing" u know what!!!!.But its prudent to stop just in time cuz any activity on your part (at times rejection of the freind request or ignorance of it is also percieved as an activity)will instigates him/her(usually him) further..

Variants of this kind - "Cute(or whatever) name(or whatever)-u my friend?","tumhara chehra dekha to laga..(some such bullshit shaayari)",etc


2) the girl from school that gave you a hard time.

I always add these because it makes me feel better when you find a picture where they're much heavier than before. Jack pot if they've given birth four times within the last five years, married their childhood sweet heart promptly followed by divorce, or still work at mcdonalds 10 years later.


Life is so cruel sometimes.


3) the guy you've never met but share 115 friends in common.

You are dead positive that you've never met them before but it seems that, according to the laws of the universe, you should have met a billion times and have become best buddies. He's adding you because he has heard about you through cute anecdotes from friends and after having your name repeated and drilled into his brains he is sure that you've met and are kindred spirits. Don't add him until you meet him, don't perpetuate the lie that you're actually friends because every time you see an update from this guy you'll have the momentary "Wait, who the hell is that... oh right, that guy" moment followed by guilt for tainting your friend's list.

4) The "Hey, you look hot" creepy, old man.

If you look through his friends list, every person on his list either shows a bit too much cleavage in their photos or are just down right camera whores. Usually, the perp is at least 20-30 years older than everyone on his list and most of his scraps consists of "who the hell is this?" and "HOW DID YOU FIND OUT WHERE I LIVE?". You shouldn't add him, he just needs to have some one tell him that some porn site is a free service that can scratch that itch in a way that orkut cannot.


Orkut: A great way to meet people that are registered sex offenders.

5) The bleeding heart.

She's a girl you've met once during a save the (insert your favorite cause) meet..that you weren't really attending, you just needed to get to the other side to get a vada pav. This is the girl that you don't think twice about adding as a friend because you think "What's the harm?" WELL, what you should have known is that orkut isn't just a social network site for her but is really a way to let every one know about every cause known to man in the form of group invites. It will become obvious when you log in and have 13 invites to random causes ranging from "Save the fly" to, but not limited to, "Stop the gross mistreatment of grass in Dombivli".


PETA! You should be ashamed!

6) Your relative

Yeah..Blood is thicker than (insert your favorite liquid) ..but the breed is not worth the add because they will expose you to every relative ever related to you by whichever thin decaying irritating vein of the family tree branch!


7) Your boyfriend's ex-girlfriend

Is she kidding? ... yes, she must be... ummmm, is she planning to destroy you via the internet? You can't afford to not add this person because if you don't then the gossip will fly and you'll appear as the jealous, crazy bitch. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer

rab ne bana di tragedy!

Consolation?- Shah Rukh Khan actually acts. He overdoes it, but not for a single second in his film is he glamorous. But that’s the good part. Here is the weird part. A woman lives with a man, and can’t recognize him when he shaves off his mustache. I mean, really.

To be fair the film has its interesting points. Unlike the usual Yash Raj film on Punjabi romance, it isn’t fixated on endless fields of yellow, or the usual large joint family. Nor is Amritsar shown as this beautiful lovely place. Yes, it’s lovely, but it has its narrow streets and the occasional pile of cowdung. The heroine at most points doesn’t wear anything too filmi or flashy, she usually wears these lovely chikan kurtis and chappals. Except when she’s in a dance studio. Man, then she transforms into spandex-clad-hottie. And I mean spandex like the kinds that probably gets stuck between your ass cheeks.

The story goes something like this. Girl’s father has heart attack because girl’s fiance dies. Girl’s father makes Loser Type Man (LTM) marry an alarmingly young nubile Girl. There’s no coercion involved. Just emotional blackmail. (Which is like way better than holding the Girl at gunpoint no?). Well Girl is nice to LTM but tell him she can’t love him. In a moment of madness LTM undergoes a make-over and joins the Girl at dance studio. Girl sorta falls in love with the Made-Over Man (MOM). The Girl has to choose between LTM and MOM. Of course LTM and MOM are the same guy, and in all his chauvinistic fervor he decides that she must pick the boring version over the exciting version, otherwise it just isn’t love. The bit that just makes you go mad with worry for the girl’s eyesight is the fact that despite standing 10 inches away from MOM and LTM she can’t make out that they’re the same man.

The guy who should have had a far meatier part is Vinay Pathak. On an average, he is wasted in mainstream Bollywood cinema, because he tends to play a flunkey. On his own, he shines in films. (Watch Dasvidaniya for seeing him shine for instance). But he’s so brilliant, and provides a lot of comic relief to an otherwise very twisted film.

Oh, and I don’t know what’s happening to Bollywood, but sometimes women are actually portrayed nicely. Like the Girl who rides the bike in a very killer chase sequence. Of course, the flip side is that she sits at home doing nothing, and her role can be summed up as - Lose Boyfriend, Lose Father, Marry, Cook, Dance, Cook, Dance, Cry. But the saving grace is that she’s not the overly-domesticated type. Which is sort of nice.

The film isn’t all bad. Some bits are funny. Some are cute. But mostly the fundamental premise is so perplexing that you spend an inordinate amount of time wondering how even on a film set, such lapse of logic is possible. The self-referencing in Yash Raj films is a bit much though. I mean, once in a while it’s funny. But a constant referral makes the film sound like one of those young testosterone filled boys in Delhi who get caught speeding. They storm out of the car and ask you “Do you know who my father/ uncle/ other random male relative is?”. And that’s what the film does.

I wouldn’t say the film sucked. But it came real close

Morning

Her thoughts broke with the sudden jolt of the cab. Once again she had lost track of time and distance in the various alleys and the by lanes that the cab driver maneuvered through to reach her office.Once again, she cursed herself for reaching so early.It was a routine she detested.

The alarm had rung sharp at seven that morning too.She snubbed it, impatiently, like one would do to an idiot who butted in just during the most interesting part of the conversation amongst friends.But the snub was always accompanied by guilt , and she peeked through her quilt, lazily looking at her cell phone from a distance.It appeared almost mocking at her.She then stretched her arms, carefully avoiding toppling the heap of books and work and an occasional empty water bottle that had made its way on to the bed.She buried her face into the other pillow she always snuggled to while sleeping.The sinking feeling came back again.She thought of the minutes ticking away .She willed herself to not leave the bed, for five minutes more.She never could.She dragged herself to the dressing table, inspecting her hair and face.Both looked the same.She always wondered if sleep really did work the wonders it was credited with.Today would be a mad day again.She shuddered at the idea of straining her eyes on her laptop till 12 midnight. She sat on the bed, thinking for one more time-"I wish i would wake up glad,I wish i would wake up thinking about somebody and not an unsent mail in the mailbox..I wish my mornings were not so miserable each day of the week".The second alarm broke her reverie."shucks..its 7:30 already..it will be one hour in the traffic if i don't rush".She got up with a start and hurried towards the balcony which resembled a storeroom now.She reminded herself to ask the maid to clean it up on the weekend.Clothes from the previous day hung there limp.She picked up the towel and noticed a strain of pink over the cream colored trousers she had worn the other day.She added one more thing to the list of things she always forgot to tell her maid-Wash colored clothes separately.She entered the bath and put on the geyser.It was a small one and did not need to be switched on before long.She was about to turn on the knob of the shower when she remembered she had forgotten to brush her teeth.And as always,she struggled with making a choice between getting done with the shower and then brushing her teeth or brush and then head for the shower.She found it amusing how she repeated this everyday of the week unfailingly.There were days when she would totally forget to brush her teeth and remember just when she was heading out of the door.That day,she decided in favor of the shower first.The taps needed plumbing.The water from the shower was a meek drizzle.It made her sleepy waiting for it to soak her in.But she always preferred it to filling the bucket and pouring water over herself.The latter she thought needed too much effort.

She switched off the fan as she entered her room to get dressed.She opened the Almira to decide on what to wear.Heaps and heaps of clothes-of late, mostly trousers and shirts,an occasional skirt,a couple of blazers,a few dresses, and the rest of them were old clothes she now wore at home or night dresses she loved shopping for but was seldom motivated to wear. It was so much more easier slipping into a pair of old pyjamas and a faded t-shirt than removing the tags from a brand new knee length t-shirt she had picked up on one of her trips.Till they were new, they always made her feel she was dressed up to go to sleep-an idea she found difficult to relate to.

She did not like the creases on the shirts that the "istriwalla" had left behind in the form of folds.She picked up a white shirt with grey stripes and switched on the iron to erase the creases.She lifted her gaze away from her hair as she combed through them to look at her watch.She had forgotten that she had not yet strapped it to her wrist.She picked up her cell to check the time.It was ten minutes past 8.The taxi wallah who dropped her to her office would be jittery.She knew he would flood her with a flurry of remarks the moment she entered the cab while she desperately tried blocking him out behind the Economic Times she tried reading on her way to office but found so unbelievably boring that ended up fiddling with her phone if there was anytime left after the call with her mother.

As she strapped her sandals to her feet, rushing to switch off the lights her roommate always left on and remembering to pick up her watch just before she locked the door,she felt a sense of unease.A discomfort at not knowing how she had just started with a seemingly perfect morning and yet ended up feeling lost.As always,she pushed the thought to the heap which was growing larger by the day.As the cab started, she looked outside the window and told herself once again-"It is a perfectly normal day, and a perfectly normal life.I have nothing to complain about.".She hung on to that thought desperately till it gave way to another-"May be i don't want 'normal'."She always laughed at these contradictions within.Today was no different.