Just another saturday morning

Each morning starts with the flood of emotions and memories, enough to wet the eyes. The minutes just refuse to pass by. So I sit down to jab the keyboard with some junk to thow out. The mind is clouded with thoughts of all the accepted rejection I am getting. Am I really dragging it too far? I guess I am not. Or I am? Dunno.

It is not an easy process to start the day. But I guess, the day will not stop, even if i try to hold the hands of time. I never knew I would need help from third quarters, I never imagined myself to be in such a state of mind. But I guess, this time does come up in each life. I did not face it in early phases of life, so I it coming late to me. I am trying to grow out of myself and would do it, and I do not think I need to get supports now. Or do I? i am aware that weaker crutches will not take me anywhere far, but at-least ई shall be ...... on something, keeping myself occupied, if not entirely on my own.

And then, here is something for the one who has recently started looking towards me with amused and restless eyes.

I do notice the subtle remarks in the not so subtle talks. I am weak these days and may trip my steps, but will try to retain my balance. . Do not try to find solace in me. I have nothing much left on that front that can be useful. Whatever I had, has been put to a wasteful use. Tomorrow, you would too come up and tell me the same. So, better mind your heart and don't put that effort on me. You will find nothing here and you shall lose what you would regret later. The time. You are young and brave; and have a long way to go.

Just understand, do not put away the future for a sweeter day today. Though this is not my original philosophy of life, but this will suit you better. So before you let me use you as a support system, which I think I have started to, already; try to keep your personal life away and secure, and do not stop your efforts to move ahead. I have grown old and because I have lived in moments, does not mean you should also do so. So, stop fluttering those eyes and carry on. Do not soften your voice to me, as I do get affected, but the ill effect will be more on your future. Live on.

Hey I do sound like a confused lot. Don't I? Or Do I make sense?

यही तो कहा था

जाएँगे कहॉ , सूझता नहीं
चल पडे मगर रास्ता नहीं,

क्या तलाश है, कुछ पता नहीं,

बुन रहें हें दिल, ख़्वाब दम ब दम

वक़्त ने किया क्या हसीं सितम

तुम रहे ना तुम, हम रहे ना हम्.

The Paradise of the Princess

The three way tug of was between 'the future restructuring of mind', 'the present state of destructive settlement' and 'the intoxicating thaumaturge of the past' is ripping my nerves apart. The speed of events is so high that the difference between the fact and the fiction seems to be blurred to the extent of blindness. Everything seems to go inside the big black hole of yesterday, and I am unsuccessfully trying to pull out the rabbit called happiness, from the hat of the past.


Nothing makes me happy for long anymore, except those small moments of sitting in the shade of the tree I had sown years ago. I collect these moments each time and take them with me, and play with them all day long. I know my tree is in its full bloom and ready to blossom anytime I want to be alive to see the flowers and fruits of the tree spread all over the garden on life, spreading smiles.

That is when the paradise of the princess will glow in the magical aura of lifelong happiness. Stars would sprinkle the light from the sky, and the winds would sing the songs of joy. I would be busy attending the guests from the heaven, all the Gods, who will come to bless the blooming tree of eternal happiness.

It feels nice

Today, Listening to the classic by mehdi hassan, felt like saying so ..

फूल ही फूल खिल उठे मेरे पैमाने में
तुम क्या आये, आ गयी बहार मैखाने में।

Ye Shaam Ki Tanhaiyan

---

yeh shaam ki tanhaiyan, aise main tera gham
patte kahin khadke hawa, aayi to chaunke ham
yeh shaam ki tanhaiyan, aise main tera gham

jis raah se tum aane ko the
uske nishaan bhi mitne lage
aaye na tum sau sau dafa, aaye gaye mausam
yeh shaam ki tanhaiyan, aise main tera gham

seene se laga teri yaad ko
roti rahi main raat ko
haalat pe meri chaand taare ro gaye shabnam
yeh shaam ki tanhaiyan, aise main tera gham

Walk Man ... Walk ..... चले जा चले जा

चले जा चले जा चले जा, जहाँ प्यार मिले।

Walk man Walk ... :)

इतने बडे जहाँ में कोई तो मीत होगा,
इस गम कि बांसुरी में, कोई तौ गीत होगा

चले जा चले जा चले जा, जहाँ प्यार मिले।

Its a huge world, there would be someone .....

चलना ही जिन्दगी है, रुकना है मौत तेरी,
ए जिन्दगी के राही, किस बात कि है देरी।

चले जा चले जा चले जा, जहाँ प्यार मिले।

The Sweetest Songs

Remembering an old song by Tatat Mehmood, and making the life look much better today।

हें सबसे मधुर वो गीत जिन्हें, हम दर्द के सुर में गाते हैं
जब हद से गुज़र जाती है खुशी, आँसू भी छलकते आते।

“Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought।” - Percy Bysshe Shelley

काँटों में खिले हैं फूल हमारे, रंग भरे अरमानों के,
नादान हैं, जो इन काँटों से दामन को बचाये जाते हें

जब ग़म का अन्धेरा घिर आये, समझो के सवेरा दूर नहीं
हर रात का हैं पैगाम यहीं, तारे भी यहीं दोहराते हें

पहलू में पराये दर्द बसाके, तू हँसना हँसाना सीख ज़रा
तूफ़ान से कह दे घिर के उठे, हम प्यार के दीप जलाते हैं

Strange is this challange of life - तूफ़ान से कह दे घिर के उठे, हम प्यार के दीप जलाते हैं

The song was penned by none other than Shailendra, the master at creating the most touching , yet realistic lyrics। Songs like ' Sach hai duniya waalo, ke hum hain anaari ' and many more, still reflect the pain of the real worldly men

Another song that comes to my mind, by Shailendra was an out and out romantic song. Though it did not become very popular, those you have heard it, know it well. It was sung by Mohd. Rafi, for film - Akhiri Khat.

आज कि रात, ये कैसी रात, के हमको नींद नहीं आती,
मेरी जान आओ, बैठो पास, के हमको नींद नहीं आती।

The most love filled stanza that makes my senses wake to the magic of midnight love ...

अँधेरा है , तौ रहने दो,
मुज्जसिम चांदनी हो तुम,
लाज्जाये रौशनी जिस से,
इक ऐसे रौशनी हो तुम,

Let the darkness remain my dear, as you are the bright moonlight tonight, so bright that every light around would feel shy in front of your light ( of youthful passionate presense )

ज़रा बैठो,
करो कोई बात,
के हमको नींद नही आती,

मेरी जान आओ,
बैठो पास,
के हमको नींद नही आती।

Woila..... Time to get ready for work.... tired, yet a little refreshed..

Good Morning

Life is a cakewalk .....

A week is like a cake these days..

A lovely round cake, cut into unequal seven slices of yummy delight, filled with raisins and nuts, covered with the most delicious toppings। But just felt so, that each day has a different topping, a different sauce on it।

The Monday's slice start with a plain vanilla sauce, like clean white bedsheets, without a single wrinkle; ironed to perfection, but as hard as flawless frozen ice cover, It looks as if it is covering something beneath i cannot eat। Like a protection shield. I just cant dig my teeth of possessiveness into it, and even if I try to take a bite, my teeth break with all my ego, and get shattered.

Tuesdays and Wednesdays, as the ice melts, are for lemon and strawberry flavor toppings, often sweet and sour, often reversed, and mixed। I love the mild and magical taste of it, it makes me forget the stiff ice, and yet, try not to overindulge, remembering what had happened my ego-tooth।

Thursdays and Fridays are like the one filled with rum and raisins, with a splash of chocolate sauce, served with soda and ice cream, perfection unlimited, sometimes with a cherry on the top। It feels like the cake itself would love to be consumed। I often forget my teeth and try to dig in the maximum, as it there was no tomorrow.

Maybe, there is no tomorrow this week too।

Yes, I remember, my teeth would get yuckier, smellier, sticky and bad by tomorrow - the Saturday। Saturdays, i prefer eying the cake though the glass , standing outside the show window। My teeth ache and I my tongue of desire slurps between by teeth of ego, often biting to bleed. I stick like hungry beggar kid outside the heavily exciting display of the show window., while my lips pucker in desire full of despair. The exciting red sauce looks too tempting, but lately I have stopped enjoying my cake on weekends.

Though the cake looks brightest and red hot on weekends, I try to let it pass, but my over indulgence only makes me dream of the forbidden pleasure। Then, I tell my mind, about how and why the cake got so good looking today। Maybe the weekend cake is not for me. I have had it all week, but the weekend cake, well, is not my slice. Sometimes, I remind myself of the incidents when I stole into the weekend's slice with red strawberry sauce, only to yell with reality. The red for sauce was actually Hawaiian chili sauce, and not strawberry as i thought, that day.

The shutters of the show window get pulled down and i keep banging my head to the shutter, silently. I do see some spots of red where I bang my head, and lick the same to satisfy my ego, waiting for the Monday's clean white vanilla slice. Sometimes I do try to enjoy a Sunday slice to an extent, but with a fear of breaking my teeth again. Who knows I get a hard nut in my cake that would again break my decaying teeth.

I try to look at other wonderful pastries around, and even those exciting servings of deliciously sinful delights, where my craving could be satisfied, but I guess, like a child, I love my cake, no matter if it is not mine anymore. My possessiveness and overindulgence about eating the whole cake is obviously the killer. My teeth are rotting, giving away with each week passing by. The cake has started eating me instead of vice versa. One day, the cake of time with eat me up, and teeth of ego with lie in the ashes with my other calcium structures of what I still call – myself.

Life is a cakewalk. isn't it?

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P.S. : We all have our own ways to calm ourselves. I think, writing is one way that does the minimum harm. So i prefer to write to keep myself calm. I do not intend to hurt, harm or put down anyone.

Bird on a cactus

Why would a bird sit on a cactus?

I have no answers that suit my mind. But, in deserts, birds have no better trees to sit on. When summer heat gets hotter and there is less water, they take the water even from the thorny cactus. But, only for some time. Then, as the summer gets hotter, they migrate to a water land across seven seas.

Maybe the reason is the same as when tired people sit under the shade of a huge green tree, even near a lake.

Guess, be it a cactus or a huge green tree, are there for similar purpose.

A bird on a cactus is a fairly accpeted concept in dry areas, just as sitting under a shaded tree, and relaxing., till rejuvenate to fly ahead.

Illusive Mirages ... needs or whatever.....

We all need something or the other.

I know someone who needs stability, and I know someone who wants to retain stability.
I also know someone who needs love. and he doesnt seem to get it .. lol. nevermind.

And then there are people like me who seemingly have E V E R Y T H I N G. And .... greed and drool over everything. :)

Seems like I am standing in a green colored desert.

I open my mouth to the sky when it rains the nector of love all over. And lately, each drop misses my lips and tounge by a micron. Man.. its raining love all around. or am i blind.

What an illusive mirage this life is....

.. something i wrote about 15 years ago, or so ..

Yoon tau raaste mein kai ghar mile;
Uska ghar aaya na lekin raat bhar.

Rafta rafta zakhm saare bhar gaye;
Dard badhta hee raha bas raat bhar.

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Feels like it is time to forget some restrictions on myself. Atlest for the time being. .. so that i crawl forward.

Unless I fire up my desires again, and go and look for some nector, atlest for a little while ... whatever...

Sorry if I overstepped my blogging limits.