Khaamakhaan

I have suddenly found myself with an abundance of time, so sharing something after a long while. Not a finished product, not even a first draft, just notes. Nevertheless, if anyone lands here somehow, do let me know your thoughts.

Bhatakte raahon mein, khud se takra gaye,

Vaakya bana ek, jo khud se takra gaye,

Kayi shab baad, jaana khud ko waapis,

Apna saa ehsaas hua, par ajnabi saa bhi laga,

Yaad nahi aa raha, kin raahon par yon be libaas khade the...

Ab khud ko apnana mushkil lagta hai,

Naa hi yeh bhoot jo yahaan mila hai,

Naa hi woh jo kayi dinon se saath chal raha hai,

Ajab si tees hai, is mulakaat mein,

Khud ko naa pehchanana, bahut khaufnaak saa lagta hai...

Bikhre huye tukde jo dhak rakhe the,

Ughad gaye hain ab, par pehchaan me nahi aate hain,

Yeh ansh bator, ek chitr banane ki koshish ki hai,

Shaayad koi tukda, kahin abhi bhi fit ho jaaye,

Aaj ke adhoore chitr mein,

Asmanjas bhi hai, hichak bhi hai,

Ki yeh puraane tukde, Sahooliyat kam naa kar dein...

Kab khud se itna door aa gaye, samajh nahi aata,

Ajeeb saa pratibimb hai yeh, 

Naa isko pehchaan paa rahe hain, 

Naa hi sheeshe mein deekh rahi chavvi ko,

Shayad libaas odhe, uss poorvnirdhaarit maarg par chalte rehte toh,

Tees toh uthti, par dil aise tootta nahi,

Shayad bhatakne nahi niklna chahiye tha...

Ab khud ke vichaar keval asuvidha hi dete hain,

Ya ab himmat nahi rahi, pukhta sochne ki,

Khud ki khushi me avrodh banane ki, lat si lag gayi hai,

Baahar ka shor kam nahi hota,

Khud ki aawaaz usmein doob si gayi hai,

Ab apna sab anjaana saa lagta hai...

Koshish nahi hai lautne ki, par kahin dabi ek iccha hai,

Aur keval wahi ek iccha hai,

Baaki toh keval kapit jhigyasa hai,

Ab karein toh karein kya,

Koi kabhi mile, jo woh samjhe,

Toh humein bhi samjhaaye,

Thehrein, ki aankh moond chalte jaayein?

Koi toh is sabka maayena samjhaaye,

Bhautik se kaise nijaad paayein,

Nijaad naa hi paa paayein,

Toh yeh do shaks waapis kaise milaayein...

Happiness

I wasn't going to share this one, but a friend wanted me to...so here it is...

Happiness is a nightmare dressed like a daydream,

It’s cosmetics, It’s jewellery, It’s fast cars, It’s expensive clothes,

Sold like confetti, and bought like it,

It’s piracy, It’s sex, It’s religion, It’s love and It’s vanity,

The price ain’t much, just your soul,

I sometimes feel I have got the currency in abundance, as if it will never deplete, no matter how much I spend,

I sometimes think, it’s so meager that despite of all things, it should be saved for a rainy day,

I do not know which, I am not so good with the economics of souls…

Happiness is hope dressed like a daydream,

It’s emancipation, it’s salvation, it’s liberation, it’s mantras from priests, promises from politicians, It’s money, and sometimes it’s the proverbial sin,

There are packages for all kinds of needs,

It’s sold everywhere, malls, temples, websites, bazaars and parliaments,

It’s advertised on televisions, radios, youtube, Google adwords…

Happiness is drinks with friends, walks on the beach,

Long drives with soft music, travel to exotic lands,

Packaged as stories, to be compared over scotch and cigars later,

A size certificate for your manhood…

Walk of Shame

Boulders of blunders amassed in a grey, blue, green, drippy, messy field...
Compacted reminders of betrayals, egos, foolishness and poor choices or just plain bad luck,
Remnants of will and magic oozing from them,
As they are contracted further,
Strategically placed in the path to the mill,
To remind the walkers,
To keep free men from revolting,
Such a grand scheme!
No chains to drive'em on,
People driven by guilt, do not need chains...

One or two that break away from the zombie queue,
Are broken, by the remnants of their own magic,
A man's own tools turned against him,
In such a setting no force is required,
That's the way of the soul feeders...
Still there are guards hiding behind walls of regulations and mirrors,
After all, a little insurance never hurts...

Mass Production

Plundering of nascent thoughts,

An illicit elucidation by naïve worshipers,

Shackles, chains and captivity,

A known ignorance of the grand brevity,

Goals, success and all material manifestations of emotions,

Misinterpreted, misunderstood, modified,

Emotions innate by nature,

Morphed into instruments of rule,

Blind people queued up behind blind people,

At the door of the civilisation made mill,

To be fit into casts, packaged, labelled, stamped and shipped,

Not necessarily in that order,

Heart-wrenching, suffocating, pitiful, abysmal,

Looking for space,

Unwittingly bending to the will of the cloaked liberator,

Once, twice, over and over again,

Tattered, gasping, torn into pieces and being put back together,

Each time a little less,

Melted, Poured, Packaged, Labelled, Stamped and to be Shipped…

Jhele Jaa Rahe Hain

Khokhle shabdon se ek dhaacha taiyar kar,

Khud ko raahat dene ki ek saadharan si koshish,

Aur us koshish ki asaadharan niraasha,

Waqt ki syaahi me doobe kuch kisse,

Aur un khaate meethe kisson se uthti tees,

Kaagaz par gade kuch ghaav,

Aur unhe chupaane di hui chingari,

Sab zaruri, sab bemaani,

Naa phool ka ras, na saas ki garmi,

Naa sheet ki kampan, na khone ka dard,

Sab zaruri par sab bemaani,

Jaise kuch mehsoos hi naa hota ho,

Ek thela jo thelle jaa rahe hain,

Rumaani yaadon me jale jaa rahe hain,

Reet meet geet sab jaise arthviheen,

Arth dhoondhe ki bhi abhilasha jaise ab heen,

Vaani jaise rundhi si,

Gala jaise daba sa,

Saans lene me takleef,

Har lafz ruaansa,

Girte padte din badlate raaton me,

Aur raatein badalti dinon mein,

Thele jo thele jaa rahe hain,

Saansein bas phookon se sulgaaye jaa rahe hain,

Yeh pehle bhi kai baar hua hai,

Ab shaayd aadat ho gayi hai,

Ya shaayd taakat nahi bachi aur ladne ki,

Shaayad fitrat hi hai,

Kismet nahi kahunga, uspar bharosa nahi,

Naa hi kisi but mein,

Bas thele hain, jo thele jaa rahe hain,

Zindagi hai, jo jhele jaa rahe hain…

Meri Aatma Ka Mool

Meri aatma ka mool bolo kitna lagaoge,

Ab wo baazaaroo si jaan padti hai,

Dekha tha us roz boli lagte huye,

Toh socha tumhi se pooch lun ki kitna bhaav lagaoge,

Icha jaagi pata toh Karun, aatmaaein aakhir bikti hain toh kitne me,

Meri aatma ka mool kya hai?

Kya tum mujhe batlaoge?

Kya tum sach much iski boli lagaoge?

Bhaav bata hi rahe ho toh mere zameer ka bhi bata dena,

Mere rakht ka, mere ashroon ka bhi batla dena,

Me bhi toh jaanu ki zarurat me jab kuch bechna ho,

Toh kaunsa purza bechun,

Boli lagana tum tab, mujhe zarurat hogi,

Bik jaane ki jab meri koshish hogi,

Ho sake toh yeh bhi samjhaana, yeh purze kahaan jaate hain,

Kahaan aur kiske yahaan istemaal kiye jaate hain,

Jaanna zaruri toh nahi,

Man bas tassali karna chahta hai,

Aur jab sab bik chuka ho toh is man ka bhi bhaav batla dena,

Kuch iske badle bhi milega naa?

Tum mere purzon ka sahi mol laga lena,

Hisaab ka thoda kacha hun naa,

Tum hi sahi mol laga lena…

She wasn’t an Angel

There were angels on her wings,

Though she wasn’t an angel,

She was just human,

Plain, ordinary, nothing exquisite,

And there was where she was beautiful,

Her hopes, dreams, failures, pain,

She was so simple and there was where she was an enigma,

Dew drops in winter couldn’t touch her makeup less beauty,

Rose petals would be inadequate to describe her lips,

And nothing could compare with her honest smile,

Especially when she was in pain,

And smiled just so that people around her, even her trusted ones wouldn’t feel pained about it,

She would tell them later because they deserved to know and now wasn’t the time,

She was beautiful that way,

Civilisation couldn’t corrupt her,

Couldn’t dare to touch her,

She wouldn’t let it happen,

She was fresh that way,

Beautiful that way,

She was pretty, now I realise,

I just never was able to look past her beauty,

Others never looked past her prettiness,

Maybe some did, but lost their way,

She was that pretty!

And she took all that pain with a grace, only angels are capable of,

But she wasn’t an angel, just human,

She made you realise all that was beautiful and ugly about being human at the same time,

And she was beautiful that way,

She held everything by her stare,

And she could dip her eyes and turn your world upside down,

But she never did that,

She was beautiful that way...

She was pretty and beautiful, but human,

She was incredible that way,

Though she wasn’t an angel, she was an angel that way…