Sunday, December 12, 2010


See who is opposite the opponent...

You cannot take your eyes off this.The battle royale gets everybody`s heart to throb.The aura of the confrontation begins as soon as the umpire calls on the two players for the opening toss.One of them in his ususal bustling style,hopping on his side legs while the other just calmly swinging his racket as the umpire tosses the coin and make them shake their hands.

Then after the warmup the action begins...

Let...first serve...

I have watched many rivalries in the past.Becker-Edberg,Agassi-Sampras et al but none matches the energy and tension of this one.Federer-Nadal!!!.The one match that the world watches..the match that the world awaits for.I personally get the fever of expectations one day before.Primarily owing to the playing style of the two players,watching the contrasting style of play resulting in a dazzling strokeplay is a delight.Secondly due to the battle of the two personalities,rafa emerging as a great of the game,and federer a proven bot in the gentlemen`s tennis.And most importantly for the head to head record.Many people take the record of 14-8 in favour of nadal as something that dilutes this rivalry.But to me that is the most important ingredient of it all.The history!!the difference in numbers aren`t reflected in the play on court,its just an indication to the federer fans that rafael has the edge and in equal measure a silent memo to the rafa fans that roger is keen to erase the equation.
We all take sides,and almost all of us are biased in watching there matches.All of us root for either federer of nadal.Its like the voldemort-harry potter prophecy.None can live while the other survives.I haven`t met anyone who supports both.In short this rivalry is far from being neutral.So when you are in front of a TV( or in stadium if you are a lucky soul) you are either in the fedex corner giving him the gracious applause or in the rafa corner shouting vamos!vamos! in sync with the AV with rafa himself.
I have stopped analysing the graph of the two players purely because they are sitting at the pinnacle.They are at the summit in terms of the game that they possess.Numbers no longer matter.whether federer ends up with 20-22 grand slams or nadal eclispsing the grand slam record is meaningless,maybe to historians this number would matter.But just imagine!after one of them retires,what can you deduct out of it?Just the fact that who is the GOAT?Well I say bigger things are on line.The sweet taste of that victory over your prime opponent when you have given your heart,body and soul to every serve,every volley,every retreive,every forehand/backhand and every tweener.No one of the two will cry when the GOAT results are finally out,but they certainly shed a tear or two when they prevail a tough match in which if one was david then the other was certainly not goliath.

Let.... second serve...

The battles these two have had over the years are something to be cherished,the rivalry far from over is already ensured a golden mention in the great annuls of historian`s work.Somehow when these two enter the stage the court looks a tad short,the linesmen are under pressure(as both take the paint of the sidelines so very often),and the crowd numb and expectant.when I look at the sets these men play,I somehow get the wiff of the way a game is going.It is very difficult to discern who is the heavier of the two opponents but,just that extra,just that magic defines that differnce on the day.Indeed!!! both of them are magical to the core.Both of them make the arena unnecessary,the game is played invariably between the two only,in their minds,in their instincts and in their disposition,the few thousands in the stadium and the millions watching need not be for the occassion.
Many people have said it and I concur that both roger and rafa are completely different players when they play against each other.Rafael might bamboozle many with his top spin but he cannot outfox federer with that.Also roger might run away with the game against others if he is a break up,but certainly you cannot take it easy against the spanish matador himself.
But if you see through many things are common in their lives.I am not a paparazzi that I will peep into their personal life,but except their playing style both don`t say much expect when on court and those are the 3-5 hours I love to sit and stare.The balance of their rivalry is hanging on the very thread of how many times in near future will they meet.Last year of 2010 saw them meet 2 times only.So lets hope we see a dash of federer going against the spice of rafa more often in the season of 2011.


"The past"

Lucky me,I was born when pete sampras and roger federer played that wimbledon match.In more ways than one,it was the passing of the baton that took place that day.Federer tapped the ball once-twice and lo!there he was,in two-three years from his first GrandSlam win ,he was already threatening pistol pete`s record.Everyone was going Ga-Ga about his talent and his future.Those who were born in a time after pete left,it was a delight to watch another champion exhibit the game that made the legends.Of all I watched of federer,the thing that I look for most are the unbelievable shots or the 'aliens' as I prefer to call them.The supple movement that this 'once a ponytail boy' has makes it so much delightful to look at the ball just caressing the net of the racquet and bouncing on the other end of the net just to find nobody home.Just as the game of tennis has been elevated by this man,in equal measure with each success of his,he continued to widen the gap between him and other players to a yawning and inevitable level.
But as I got lucky the second time that nadal came around and brought that very much required spice in men`s tennis,we got to see
what lamborghinni had to offer while ferrari was running amok.The bull rafa very much brought out the human in roger as roger`s already dominant strature brought out the god in rafa.Past between them has been very famous if in any means less entertaining.Though federer and rafa were both categorised as surface players initially,they were quick to adapt.Federer winning the French open 09 and nadal winning the US open 10 meant that now both are above that par line.And in the past as their meetings have been majorly in semis or finals of events,they traded titles between them with exceptions like nole in aus open and del potro in us open.Though sports pundits like to call the past between them as tilted in favour of nadal,the really competitive matches have never been a watershed.But one can`t discount the bruises nadal has inflicted on the psyche of federer.So all in all,the past has been a lopsided bagel with more duff on the nadal side of pie.
"The present"

The present times are the most interesting ones in their rivalry(atleast I think so!).Not only they have to face each other eventually,but also have to go past the "already arrived and emerging" lot of murray,nole and soderling.Roger is according to many has past his prime,but to me he has been in his prime since his first wimbledon win in 03.The present form of roger can be best described as exploratory.He is exploring the possibility of improving his skills,many a matches I have watched him that he has tried different things and lost,even genius can be boring sometimes.As for rafael,his serve has really taken a big kick and his hard court play also has come leaps and bounds(literally!).There aren`t many players who can threaten the pedigree of nadal at this point of time.Federer and murray come close to eclipsing his ongoing rampage.
So at present sits a genius at number 2 spot,now above the numbers trying to immortalise himself with every game he plays and every shot that he makes,and at the other end is the numero uno who is making short work of historian`s ink and work.

"The records"

Nadal at 9 slams and fed at 16,a difference of 7.Throw in a olympic singles gold and the balance is almost on the keel.I am sure records matter to these guys but afterall its the years you have played tennis at the top level is what matters,longevity matters.
The day murray stops thinking about winning his maiden GrandSlam,he would win one.Sure,nadal has a decent chance of surpassing federer`s almost all records(23 straight SF is bit too much to repeat!),but then again federer would leave him a legacy that is marked by his almost amaranthine longevity,his almost divine fitness and his angelic demeanour.Its interesting to watch nadal behave in a federer match,he is all pumped up and fiery.He ought to be,there is cold ice at the other end,those players who just play without aggression(remember Del potro in US open?) tend to sink that much faster as they cut thru the ice of this fedex icerberg.
Maybe we can give rest to the record writing for few years and watch the action as when these two meet again.

"The game"

I feel that the game has been inordinately benifited from the presence of these two deities,well all of us know that.But imagine a game of tennis after sampras and agassi and no federer and no nadal.Woof!So much talent is there in these two that even the game looks smaller to them.I pity those federer fans who implicate and villify nadal and also I detest those nadal fans who pray for roger`s downfall.But that doesn`t mean I don`t take sides.I have my favourite and I root for him.But I love the game.And I positively feel like a child who is given his favourite toy when this mouthwatering clash takes place.

"The others"

Murray: I feel his time will come,he needs that luck in form of an injury to either nadal/federer or a easy draw or early exit of the two.But he is surely the star of the future.I can envision him taking the place of nadal in the current nadal-federer match and challenging nadal as nadal challenges federer.
Djokovic:The laugh riot serbian is a cool customer and a good shotmaker but needs to get his confidence back by winning another GS,best chances at the Aus open.
Soderling:The swede after running both federer and nadal close at french open in successive years needs to make it big now.He is the eternal dark horse and can take out any player on any day.
Del potro:To me the future champion of the others lot.The very young argentine is immensly talented and has the credentials and the hunger to make it big.He can very well end being the best of his era.
Roddick:Can spring few surprises in th years to come.I personally back him to win a wimbledon and another US open before he hangs up the racquet.

"the future"

I think we all have about 5-6 years of federer-nadal rivalry to savour.With about 20-24 potential GS Finals/Semis to go in this duration,I wish that we have these two making to the top two positions in every tournament(with due respect to the others contingent)
 Its early to call who will take home the GOAT crown,and its still undecided who is better of the two..Lets leave that discussion open and lets revel in their galaxy of strokeplay and root for these two geniuses.



Thursday, December 9, 2010


Jab Jab tere chehre ko apni aankhon me utara,
Salakhon aur zanzeron main apne dil ko jakda paya,
Chhod de ye zid,azaad kar is quaid se mujhe,
Bol de aye bala,kyun is zakhm ko sheeshe ke dhaage se tune silwaya.

Dekh le apne maathe par bichi silwaton ki shikan,
sun kar dekh tere ruh ki awaaz,uski sihran,
pher na lena apne gunahon se tu nazar,
apne rukhsaar par aane de tu sharm ki thodi fikar.

Chhod diya hai ab paimane ko humne,
teri aankhon se ab piya karte hain,
khol diya hai is mehkhane ko sabhi ke liye kabse,
akele to ab jaam bhi ruswa kiya karte hain.

Phirdous me aapke aane se hi khile hai ye gul,
aapki udan ke hi kayaal hai ye panchi,apni udaan gaye hai bhool,
kahi chale na jaana is jannat se,aap se hi hai yahaan ka har sool,
kirdaar hi hai hum sab is duniya main,pyar to baanta  hai sirf wo rasool.

Tashreef jo laye aap is aashiq ke janaze pe,
Do katre mitti jo dal gaye aap meri kabra ke muhane pe,
mil gayi is ruh ko jannat,karzdar ho gaye hum aap ke is nazrane se,
zindagi to pesh kar hi chuka hoon aapke hozoor main,jannat bhi mil jaaye tujhe ye aah nikalti hai dil se is diwane ke.

Har darakht par teri mehandi ke nishan hai,
Har kalrav me teri hi muskaan,
har shokh ada ki ho aap begum,
har mehfil ki ho aap jaan.

Falak par kuch chamakta jo hai,
Ye sitaare nahi,aapke hasi ke sharare hain,
is mardood dil me kuch dhadakta jo hai,
wo dhadkan nahi,aapke hi kiye ishare hai.

Sambhal ja aye namuraad,kehta hai wo peer,
muhabbat na kar,pachtayega,ro padegi taqdeer,
Par ye kambakhat dil kahan mane hai,phisalta hai ye balbeer,
Ishq to hum karenge hi,chahe khud sanam bhi utha le shamsheer.

Afsana-e-muhabbat bayaan karne ka de zajba sabhi ko aye khuda,
na katl kar tu majnu,na kar kisi heer-raanjhe ko juda,
ata kar apni roshni ke noor tu sabhi aashiqon ko sada,
muhabbat hi dastoor hai zamane ka,ibarat me ishq lafz hi hai khuda.

Taraane hum gungunate hai aaj teri yaad me,
Salaam karte hain beshaq, teri wafa ko apni fariyaad me,
Kahi bhi raho tum magar,ye zehan me rakhna ya rakh lo zubaan pe,
Har lafz tere hi aankhon se milta hai is zubaan ko,har jumla tere intezaar se.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

3 poems ..

Riding in the wilderness!!!

Further from the light
I said,move away,
Sell me your dreams in sight
reality don`t hold sway,
There is no recourse in might,
small is now at mind`s bay.

Tommorrow I might run,
You keep your hands on the sill,
Subtle is my surprise pun,
Better be hand`s on for the thrill,
Again I caution you O pretty sun,
Never let me descend your charring hill.

Youth of the old,the energy behold,
Mould the wily one,who is the fearless,the bold,
Serenade`s the way the dreams are sold,
In lush green grass lawns I played,I rolled.

I travelled across the hedges,across the valleys 'O' deep,
I sauntered thru the tracks that were murky,I escaped the public peep,
But I missed the permanance,the hot tea sip,
I felt my eyes water at the thoughts of my garden,of that budding nip.

Straddled across the horse`s mane,I rode,
Were the handprints and the smell of those who were perched showed.

Lo and behold,There I am,
Without the pretense,sans the sham,
I bring with me the years gone by,
Never you worry now,never you cry.

The well now empty,stood in wilderness,
The thirst also subsided,even elixir fails to impress,
I miss that care,I remember that caress,
I live life like a vagabond,my sanity in duress.

Dollops of fog and mist ahead,
I look blind!
Casting my back eyes instead,
I stay behind!!

Figuring still,don`t figure,eyes red,
I take the grind!!!
Make the flour as henceforth said,
I hope you don`t mind!!!!

Puttin the reins on my steed,
I knock the ground,without the red mead,
The claps of the hands sound in distance,like a creed,
Welcome me again!!the tree is back to the seed.


Breaking the dawn for me,creaking the neghbour window at six,
there stood my friend,cricket!!! he called,C`mon!! he risk,
I tiptoed across the room across to the door,an angry dad and cricket is not an shrewd mix,
Picking up the shoes from the rack,I jumped from the ledge,return time not fix.

Cracking the first four felt good,ouch!! the next ball found its way to my modesty,
My friends all were on fire today,I on the other hand a little rusty,
Blame the cold cold wind I said to the sniggering devils,blame on the morning so misty,
Next ball on my pads and I obliged,a flick to square leg,so elegent,so wristy.

The field set on leg side for the off break bowler the next over,
I hit a square cut right through legs of a fielder busy with putting his pullover,
I heared a scream,It seemed the ball had hit wicket keeper,he was bending over,
I danced down the track and hit the bowler for a towering six,much to his furore.

Roles reversed I had the red seamed cherry in my hand,
I puckered my nose,I rolled up my sleeves,arms ready to bend,
Batsman in front was trepid I knew,was ready to cover and fend,
I also gave him an ribs-full,leaving him writhing and clutching to mend.

The sun was out now and we started to sweat and swear,
With my 5 th wicket of the innings I knew the end was near,
Being welcomed to home by a beating and censure was my only fear,
Train of thoughts caught me offguard and I developed a muscle tear.

I limped off the field,
neither could bowl,nor could wield,
Agonised by the turn of events I decided to yield,
Atleast I won`t be reprimanded by dad now,my fate and leg both sealed.

Cricket field!!

Missed Call...

Hello !! Hello!! Hello!!

The call was not something ususal,something fishy was there in that call for carousal;
The number I earmarked for perusal,as the calls came well-nigh into the fading visual;

A rustling sound was the only thing I heard from the earpiece butted in the wax-hole;
The person couldn`t possibly was playing pun,more words come out even from the mouth of a mole;
Tell me the name I shouted!,I started to play nervously with my beared,tapped my boot sole;
The quiet increased,I disconnected the call for the tenth time,I thought now police has to play a role;

Measuring the sweat smell in my palms,I recounted the horror to my pals;
They conciled me,said my fear is unfounded,I am reacting like gals;

Though the caller never said a thing,I heared the unsaid loathe,
My head was already in a flux,mouth full of froth,
I vomited the anxiety,and asked him who are you,a tiger or a moth?,
He said,turn back!! I am standing right behind you,you sloth!!

And there he was,my own brother,turning me in,
A cackle escaped from my mouth,No one was the culprit,my fear was my only sin.

Friday, November 19, 2010

Mindless Meanderings ...(2)


Serenade fountain,lush green garden,all elements were in order,
I slouched through the room of requirement,of cannon and fodder,
Blood stains all over me,axe in one hand,mind hell bent on murder,
I creaked open the door,the vision left me in a shudder.

The place had a foreboding of a disaster,apparent from the deserted common-room,
The residents probably heared my footsteps,or heared my voice`s boom,
Anger surfaced all over my face,hands shaking,thrashing;making room,
I cried revenge!!the punishment motor was starting..vroom vroom.

It is the same place that I was killed one year ago,
And today I will seek revenge no matter where they go,
Blood drooling from my deformed face,eyes gorged out,earlier were not so,
The curse of the sin bites back,whether you are john or joe.

The intestines that were now in the open,tasting air for first time,
are now infested by maggots and are the coiling evidence of the crime,
Having your head and feet turned backwards is not a nice feeling,stutter and mime,
The only thing intact was the thread of the soul that dragged the dilapidated body through muck and slime.

There they are,shadows of the hiding culprits,
I wont spare them for sure,even if they climb upon the highest pulpits,
I have also sharpen the family axe,it would slash their guts,would reduce them to bits,
The anger surges through my head turned back,the wretched souls demand pardon,sans any wits.

The axe comes down with great force and venom,blood thirsty,it glutted,
The end for the devil-kins came,there face now was a history,it suited,
Final insult was due though,so I came close, bent over them and spitted,
The revenge done,I headed back to my grave,rest beckoned me,hell ya! I mooted.

City ...

The concrete jungle,the wide-wide street,
The city so huge,the city so full of cars and fleet,
It had me in awe,it had me looking up to the buildings of glass,so neat,
The city looked beautiful till it started to rain,in hail and in sleet.

I waded through the unfamiliar minds and the cold facade,
The people here in the city are constricted and bound by the old retard,
Nature doesn`t come here,flowers don`t flower,there is no reward,
Its only humans without heart,much like a sword without scabbard.

Huge is the ambition here,huge is the ego of mind,the parlance a crass,
Fake identities rule here,fake is the vegetable,fake is the statue`s brass,
Rat race is what rules here,everyone is travelling cattle class,
Don`t tell me what do here,I am not willing to submit my soul,don`t tresspass.

One thing is there in these stony woods though,
Fun and frolics and booze and buzz,lo,
U won`t feel the time,as the race is same, to and fro,
Further there is no factor,to not to give upon the show.

I dread at living in this golden cage,
Lest my peace be thwarted with sorrow and rage,
I don`t like the chapter,please turn the ruddy page,
Better I go to a mountain,in the tutelage of a sage.


I closed my eyes in anticipation,
The sleep never came,I rolled in frustation,
The dream was only the waking type,no peace in seeing this projection,
I tried to count the goats in the fresco,even maths failed me after a certain selection.

Never I had been denied the luxury of the company of this blissful ancestor ,
This is the first time,I suspect it has something to do with the rising stupor,
Tell me oh lord,why my eyes refuse to shut shop,why they gaze longily at their cellar,
I beg you,never make me a somnoholic,I love to sleep,I love to be at heaven as a visitor.

Taking one pose of sleep after other,I grumbled,
Muttering incoherently to myself,I doubled,
Eyes stinging,my heart became restless and troubled,
This lack of sleep is killing me,my thoughts muddled.

Suddenly I remembered triaca pill,oh I can take that as cure,
I went to the medical store,to purchase it,my feet aching and sore,
The boy gave me a strip of tablets,five rows,in each row they were four,
I didn`t hesitate,I took them all,never counted the score,
Next thing I remembererd was that I fainted on the medic`s floor,
But hey,whats that,that pricking sensation on my shoulder?,pain galore,

I woke up from my dream,never had the pills and the problem I swore,
My wife sleeping peacefully alongside,unperturbed by my dream and my snore.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Eid Mubarak...

Eid ka hai ye mubarak sama,
Muqaddas hai aaj ki ye bayar,ye aabohawa,
Ibadat main guzar aaj waqt tu,dastoor milega kahaan,
Kar de pesh khuda ko apna naseeb,wo de dega tujhe sara jahaan.

Idi main de-de to aaj tu sabko teri ye muskaan,
Gale laga aam-o-khaas ko aaj tu,fark na kar aye insaan,
Bhula de gam apne,rashq ka mita de tu naamonishaan,
Kehta hai aaj ye manzar tujhe,pak kar le aaj tu apna imaan.

Sehme hue ka ban sahara,mushkilo me dabe hue ka ban tu rehguzar,
Kewal is mubarak din par hi nahi,harek pal hi tu rakh khuddar-nazar,
Karm karta ja too shaan-e-khuda ke,robaroo ho to sach se har pehar,
Badal de apni fitrat,na kar tu kisi se berukhi,na faila tu kehar.

Hoobahoo teri hi shakal ka hai wo allahtala,
Har darakht main hai uska guzara,har panchi ko deta hai wo niwala,
Shaan main uski koi nazm nahi hai kaafi,are wohi to hai shayar ko uski mausikhi ata karne wala,
Kayanaat main jo bhi dikhta hai tujhe benoor,sabra rakh,khuda phatthar ko bhi dega ekdin ujala.

Khushiyan baat,mehmano ko nosh karwa tu aaj,
sajne de gali-chaubare,bajne de saaz,
Ki aaj Eid hai,Gurbat nahi hai aaj ka riwaaz,
Khol dil keh sabhi ko Eid Mubarak tu,kar buland apni ye aawaz.

Monday, November 15, 2010

The MBA Story ...

The MBA poem...

Negotiating the contract of my MBA life,
Marketing the discontent in me now so very rife,
Accounting for the losses,pales me like a knife,
Still going strong though,strategising life for a future beautiful wife.

Celebrating the birthdays on the lawns,is very much ingrained in our organisational behaviour,
Sleeping in the classes which redefine boredom limits,was our new principles of management and our only saviour,
Rising apathy to grades or classes,became our new consumer behaviour,
Our demented psychology was dented further,no issues! more the merrier.

Issues that we had in the access of markets known as placements,
Even WTO couldn`t restrict subsidies to us that we expect from our lacks of investments,
We are global,economics national or international,won`t deter us from our dating committments,
Statistics helped in getting a correlation between love and future,to draft futher life agreements.

Racking our brains on how to trade the agri commodities,
We stumbled upon how to evaluate a project,its main nitty-gritties,
The information technology & the ERP pounded some more atrocities,
Atleast we studied Business Research Methods well,which I hope `ll save us from impeding calamities.

The Framework of the sectors got slowly diluted by the UWL scoring structure,
Attending Working Capital Management was unfortunately never a stricture,
International trade operations course to our dismay,came out to be a croppper,
IETP atleast taught us the economics which has substance and matter.

Some lucky souls went with student exchange,waded through snow and fun,
Albeit going to Singapore for port visit has no equal,nodded everyone without any pun.

Retail banking taught me difference between a cheque and bill of exchange,
Business ethics taught me nothing,can`t figure out the change,
Rural marketing targets marketing inclusion,covering its full range,
The numerous formats in retail marketing left my mind to derange.

We merrily set asail the ITL learning ship,
Oh no! another POM!stars in the class!!let me take a kip,
Business strategy talked the universe,except strategy,over which we took a skip,
Comprehensive Viva came and gone in a jiffy,get up!,I said!! bud in the nip!!

Came third trimester and we started learning on exotic parlance,
Spanish remained a mystery,we all looked at each other in stealy askance,
Mandarin!! thank god I never took upon,the noodle language must be a nuisance,
French is a language elite,so many test!phew!! salute to those who took this stance.

Business law crosshaired us to become business barristers,
In ARM we entertained with movies and games,were reduced to being mutual jestors,
Operations Research theorems mercilessly took away the crow of the roosters,
Dissertation we`ll give in last trimester,more of a burden really,a hole in the joy-holster.

Supply chain we applied for the booze,exam answers and other sins,
Trade finance catered to our "trade of finance" and profit wins,
CCM tried to take us unwillingly to other cultures`s underpinns,
GEEP creeped upon our senses,seeped in our psyches,dazed we looked! like ugly mannequinns.

Made a small talk of the busines communication course,never learned how to animadvert,
The hullabaloo of the Mergers and Acuisitions often had pupil`s ambitions subvert,
The Transparencies were not very transparent afterall in GSBD,fundae remained covert,
Personal touch in ITAM did very little to pursuade the non-class goers to convert.

I never took the risk associated with taking DRM as a subject,
Although CTPRM and ITCPM sound alike,they never made sense to me,hence the reject,
SAPM I don`t know much about,in ignorance I genuflect,
APM left me high and dry,ads my marketing ignorance I suspect.

Now here we are,at the threshold of the two year MBA journey that promised us the stars,
Live projects,CV points,competitions all fine,just give me my friends,everything else is a farce,
I think they are my resume,they are my dream profile,they are the Iphones,they are the fancy cars,
Looking back at the two years,I definitely can say that IIFTians are a different breed,and we definitely are from mars!!

Saturday, November 13, 2010



Aapse mulkat ki hai ye shaam hasin;aye naazneen,
le chal,chale hum us dhalte hue sooraj ki kirno ke aagosh main;aye zarranasheen,
tera husn to hai khudagawah ek sharara;aafreen,
didar tera ho bas is nacheez ko nasib;aameen.


Teri aankhon ke ujle ye paimane bol rahe hai ek anokha waqya,
tamim hai teri ruh,benazir hai tera ishq;mera shukriya,
tamaam jahaan main aisa manzar aur kahaan,sargoshi karta hai tera saaya,
muskan bikher rahi hai teri ye nazar,wo khushi bhi to hai tera hi sarmaya.


Aatif hai teri peshi,har zikra me teri hai ek ruhani khamoshi,
aatish hai tera noor,har zarre par tere hi shabab ki hai tajposhi.


Zeeshan-e-muhabbat ka rutba tujhe nawajta hoon aaj,
ki is zindagi ka tu hai humnawa,tu hi is gazal ka saaz,
pairo me teri jannat bakshu gar meri hukumat ho,pad gaye hai kam teri taarif main alfaz,
gairiyat hai itni mujhme ki,fanoos saja doon teri rah main nikle jab tu pahne hijab.


Ye lafz aapke zubaan se jo aaye is aabohawa main udkar,
ye tohfe hai aapke hamare liye,sangmarmari shaukat bhari aapki aawaz pirokar,
shamiyana aaj hai banwaya ye teri khatir,roshni kar de tu ab isme aakar,
jo paigam-e-nigah me dastakhat hai tere,wo dohra de ab mere dil par apne gulzar ki syahi lekar.


Mukhtalif lagti hai ab ye jahaan ki baatein mujhe,
koi surooor sa chhaya hai,kuch bhi na ab sujhe,
lakeer hai ye ekdum seedhi,phir bhi kyun the kadam ladkhade,ye ab na bujhe,
sehar hone ko hai lagti kya ab,sannata mujhse ye bar-baar puche.


Mustakbil ban gaye ho tum mere,ye koi ittefaq nahi,
sehra me pyase ko paani mil jaaye,ye koi aam baat nahi,
gosh-e-duniya main paya hai tumhe humne,hamara naseeb to itna ala nahi,
mehsoos hui ab jaakar humein allah ki nazar,ye manzar koi jhala to nahi.


Ruth kar na jao tum tamam mehfil se aye nadan mezbaan,
paimana chhod denge sab,lanat hai aisi sharab par,phaink denge ye martabaan,
zarre-zarre ko hai tumhari darkar aye dost,waapas aa zara shamiyane main,kar apne aana ko kurbaan.
sabhi yahaan aashiq hai tere,jaam se nahi dolta hai aashiqon ka iman.


Sarfira hai wo kaafir jo chala hai is jahaan ko mitane,
betuka hai wo mandir jo khada hai insaan ko bharmane,
sab saaye hai humsaaye khuda ke,alag kyun lage phir tum humein karwane,
bair nahi hai ram-rahim main,yahi sabak khuda khud aaya hai aaj mujhe likhwane.


Thak gaya hoon ab,thoda sa aman chata hoon,
kat gaya hoon yahaan wahaan se,thoda marham chahta hoon,
hoon main tumhara hi watan aye doston,thoda sukoon chahta hoon,
chhod do ab ye khaufnak khel,thoda reham chahta hoon.


Zindagi ke pher main,harek rah par hain patthar,
chun le unhe tu,rakh apne daman main unhe sametkar,
khushi ki khoj main reh na jaaye tu bhatakkar,
kam se kam aansoon to rakh apni aakhon main ki ro paaye tu ji bharkar.


Salika hai isliye tujhe pukara hai nighahon se,
khalifa hai,isliye dekha hai tujhe minaroon se,
awara hai ye dil,isliye dhoondha hai tujhe chaubaron se,
dekhne is aashiq ko jhaankti hai ab har nigaah un diwaron se.


Dastoor hai yahi,ki rashq hota hai sabhi ko aashiqon se,
feharist banate hain nayi,ki sabhi zulm purane ho gaye hai in deewano pe,
manzil to kewal dard ka hi sabab hai,ye dard hi bas meharban hai is parwano pe,
na tu kar sajda in badnasibon ki mazaron pe,ki khuda khud rota hai in shahbaazon ke nishano pe.


Nosh pharmaye,ye keh paros diya usne mujhe mishri ki roti,
zeher bhara tha us niwale main,maangi bhi nahi usne koi phirouti,
nahi maanga humne bhi paani,zindagi bhi manzoor nahi gar mile khairati,
zakhm bhi nahi siya tere khanjar ka,mar-mar ke jeene ki nahi thi hamrai niyati.


Kadradaan the aapke,isliye kar di nazar apni jaan,
meharbaan the aap bhi thode,isliye maanga nahi hamara imaan,
bagh main to phool bhi khilte hai kaanton ke saath,ye nahi tha hume gumaan,
hum to chal diye the pyar ki rah par,man ke tujhe apne noor-e-jahaan.

Mindless Meanderings ...

The girl on the porch...

Looking out of the window that shone azure,
My eyes found a girl on the porch,silent & demure,
she looked to me a lass of earth,unsoiled and pure,
a perfect woman for me,my beating heart told me for sure.

Repressing the urge to go and accost her was not easy,
because the prospect of loosing her made me queasy,
so,I took out my feet in direction of the porch,mind no longer dizzy,
she looked an angel,dress all white,her skin all silken and lizzy.

Battling her eyelids,she questioned my presence;all surprised,
I called out to her,to allay her fears;but instead had her mesmerised,
her silken voice was savoured by my eardrums;now I was petrified,
she blushed slightly,my heart jumped;it seemed she sympathised.

The conversation flourished,we seemed to have struck a chord,
the beautiful girl on the porch was now my friend,the skeptic in me now  was hanging by the sword,
true to my instincts,the evening took a beautiful hue,the stars twinkled,the lover within me roared,
there were pigs flying in the sky,in their ominous presence my feelings soared.

The droplets of rain ...

Parched in heat,drenched in sweat,I pleaded for reprieve from this bane,
all too well,god said,and he dropped from the heavens few droplets of rain,
the moist cool water when hit my body from the top,I forgot my complaint,my pain,
they accomodated my thirst,even gave me a shower,thought I was back to be sane.

These droplets of rain,full of divine promise and blessing,
now were pouring on in a jiffy,as if the black clouds were receiving a cleaning,
every creature now was in the open,celebrating this event with a jig and some dancing,
life protuded from earth,rain nurtured the growing,the droplets were even let pass by the awning.

Something clicked in this rain today,I found a reason to cheer and smile,
god knows that our tears need cleansing,his solution very apt and facile,
celebrate o sinner,celebrate o saint,let this rain make merry let it reconcile,
a single raindroplet is important ,preserve it ,nothing in this world is small,nothing is juvenile.

Fill the ponds,satiate the rivers o rainlord,
let the water cool the earth,let it rejoin its umbilical cord,
for the drops when produce that tip-tip sound,the music reaches even the horde,
let the festivities rain,let the songs of rain be sung by the baron and the bard.

Handcuffs and cufflings ...

Cutting edges of the four square walls,
binds me,pins my pinions,tabs my falls,
the sea I can`t see,the mountain I can`t scale,calls,
I fight against the jail,I slam my fists amidst catcalls.

Time also conspires against me,flies fast,
My limbs can`t catch the ticking hands,burdened past,
no evidence of my presence ,no vision of my life mast,
I am dissolved in the sands of time,the blood now frigid and frost.

When the history would be written again,
my mention would be there,in prominence,in main,
the dirty house is talked about,more famous is the dusty lane,
my crimes would come to fore,my infamy would link to its chain.

The heaven stairs would be rolled down for me;make no mistake,
the gates of hell would also compete,would love to partake,
fair enough I say,both are like my home,both I`d be happy to take,
for bear in mind,in life there is no repayment no retake.

Saturday, November 6, 2010

Sher-o-Shayari ...(2)


Dastoor hai is zamane ka yahi,
benoor hai gali khudarah ki,
sehar hoti hai wahin,jahaan nahi ho koi fikri,
taimoor hai wohi,jisne na ki ho apne ruh ki bikri.

Chinta na kar,na rakh koi shaq-o-shuba,
allah ki nehmat barsegi,dar na khatkhata koi dooja,
apne karam ko rakh tu pak-e-saaf,tara koi chamak ke bina nahi dooba,
mohabbat ko bana le apna rehguzar,reham ko apna suba.

Dikkaton ke age na jhuka apna sir,
jama kar apni himmat,utha shamshir,
madad karega na koi adam,na koi peer,
dum bhar,mehnat karta ja,ban jayega tu mirza ya mir.

Rahi-sahi izzat ko na bech sarebazaar,
na kar tu danga,na utha nafrat ki diwar,
madad ki guhar na kar,na macha cheekhopukar,
sabhi insaan nahi hote hai akbar,sabhi farishtey nahi hote hai parvardigar.


Kya sabab hai is gunah ka,
kya hisaab hai is misbah ka,
kya hai woh ishara,kaun hai wah khalil,
kya hai ye aabohawa,kahaan hai wo sabeel.

Gustakh hai nazar teri,baagi hai teri ada,
alag hai ye manzar,firdous tu hai kahaan?
fiza badal gayi hai,na kar moorakh intezar,
sambhaal le ab bhi bhatakte kadam,wapas aa ab o gunehgar.

Kar tasleem,kar le gunahon ko ab tu kabool,
jannat ke khwaab na dekh,bas aa ja tu is dar-e-rasool,
chhod de sab jahaan ke karobar,chad ja tu jaanib is pak-e-sool,
nahi aaya ab bhi is dar par ban fariyadi to sun le,azeem-o-gunah ban jaayegi teri ye chhoti si bhool.

Madmast hai aaj kafir bhi khuda ki qawwali main,
aa,tu bhi aaja,na kar der,pukar le khuda ko tu bhi is khumari main,
chand aur sitare gawah hai ki ab aur dayra nahi hai darmiyan,
dekh o benazar,aaj rehmat hai tujh par,lene khud aaye hai allahmiyan.

Bhichhada Hua...

Manzar wo ajeeb tha,dil hamara garib tha,
apko na de sake thodi bhi mohlat,parda tha hamrai aankhon par,wo andhera ajeeb tha,
mushkelaat aa gayi us gulistan main ab,jo ki kabhi aapse gulbag tha,
wo phool hi na raha ab, keh gaya mali ki mera bhi ab kya kaam tha.

Rukhsaar par jo jasn ki roshni labrez thi,
ab nasoor ban kar khatakti hai,kambakhat khoob thi,
paimana bhara hi reh gaya aap ka intezar karte-karte,
Jashn matam ban gaya aapke bagair aahein bharte-bharte.

Kya khoob kahi hai kisi dilwale ne,nazar unke bina nahi leti hai chamak,
gunjaish nahi hai is hasrat ki koi,ki aa jaaye unki bhi aankhon main hamare aansoon ke poorak,
jaa chale ja ,kar na tu ab apne dil ke huqm ki taamil,
wo rutha hai tujhse,peshi na hogi teri aye mere muwaqqil.

Ye shaan-e-shoukat,ye hasin darakhton aur asharfiyon ka karwan,
na khila sakte hai dil,na mita sakte hai dooriyan,
haale dil kya unka ja kar le talab,mita ye fasle jo hai darmiyan,
nikaal phenk ab jo tere tabassum main lage hai kaante,kar ja ikraar ki tu gustakhiyan.


Ek haseen waqya hai aaj mujhe yaad aaya,
Pehli baar dost keh jab maine kisiko bulaya,
ek ajeeb sihran si thi us rishte main,ye main apne dil ko farmaya,
dosti hoti hi hai aisi cheez,ye apne dil par apni hi khoon se likhwaya.

Ye koi mamooli naseeb nahi,ki dost mile koi aapko aapki tareef karne wala,
par jo dost kare aapki sahi parakh,wohi nikalega aapke andhere main chhupa ujiyara,
tohfe main di hai dosti khudavan ne insaan ko,dost hi fanoos ke jaal nikalne wala,
dosti main jo bande rakhte hai us allah ki marzi,nazar unke hi ye jahaan hai hone wala.

Kashmakash hai ajeeb,dost raees ho ya garib,
par chahe har koi ,ki wo ho uske karib,
nazarein dhoondti hai us ruh ko,jo samjhe hamari sari baatein ajeeb,
shaukat ho ya ram,peter ho ya salman,sare dost hi hai mere,achha hai mera naseeb.

Koi shukriya ada nahi hota,koi saleeka ka choga nahi odhna hota,
dost aksar nazaron main hi keh jaate hai baatein,zabaan ka koi bharosa nahi hota,
rakhna apne doston sambhaal,ye rishta to farishton ko bhi naseeb nahi hota,
kehne ko to dost hai hazar,par dosti ka dayra kewal ek adad ginti se bayaan nahi hota.

Jaam par jaam ...

Ye bandish meri nahi hai aye saaki,ye tu muflisi ka kamaal hai tu bhar de ye martaban baaki,
sharaab aur mausikhi ek hi haseena ke hi do chehre hai aye humdum,dono kabiliyat rakhte aisi ki hosh-o-hawas ho jaaye nakaafi,
shayari gunguna lene se nahi ban jata koi bhi shayar,ye dard to us dil se aata hai zubaan par jo toota ho har dafa hi,
aakhiri nazm yadi rah jaye tujhe yaad,jaam pi lena is shayar ki bandish  se hi aaj tu zara si.

Shauk hai isliye gata hoon aye nargisi aankhon wali,
majboor hoon isliye pi leta hoon jaam,sharab-e-aks main gar dikh jaaye wo dil todne wali,
tere hi shahar ki thi wo haseen ulfat,ja bula la use is maquam par,akele to wo bhi nahi rone wali,
nazar aata hai ab sab mujhe pak-e-saaf,neeyat ab nahi meri bigadne wali.

Tabiyat nasaaz hi sahi,pila ji bhar tu aaj jaam pe jaam,
nasihat to sara jahaan hi dega tujhe,aaj kar mere dil ke dard ko hi salaam,
naqsha is dil-o-minar ka hai ghum hua,kahaan pahuchau main ab unka ye paigam,
bata bhi nahi sakta main sabko uska naam,badnaam na ho jaaye wo sareaam.

Lat hai buri is ishq ki kasam se,bebas ho gaya hoon apne sanam ke sitam se,
ek halak se utarne de jaam,sajda karne de unhe parde se hi ,bhale thodi sharam se,
nakaafi hai ab to ye didar-e-salook,chaand ko bula la zameen par,albatta raham se,
gaflat na ho jaaye aaj bhi humse aye saaki,dhyaan tu rakhna hamara aaj is nashe main chhupe marham se.

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Sher-o-Shayari ...(1)

Disclaimer:::This is the my first swipe at the ornate language of urdu ,so pardon any mistakes and serious misunderstandings as far as the language knowledge is concerned...


Rasookh hai mere zehen mein,
khuloos hai tere youvan mein,
parwana hoon,koi patanga nahi,
Ye dayra kyon?,koi paimana to nahi?

Mohabbat ki is jahaan mein,
kadra ki hai fakir-o-shaan ne,
mai to is takalluf ka taakid nahi,
Ye mohabbat meri,teri mulakaat ki mohtaaj nahi.

Ye sher likhta hoon main,bhula ke sara jahaan,
hamare dil ki dhadkano ko abhi aapne suna kahaan,
reh jaaoge dil ko thaam,gar sunoge is aashik ki guhar,
ye guzarish hai tumse,kar lo hamari khamoshi main chhupe pyar ka intezar.

Khumaar hai ab, din raat ka ab gumaan nahi,
jawaab ka intezar hai,bakhuda abhi hum fanaa nahi,
manzoor nahin hai to bas teri berukhi,
taye hai hamara milna,khuda ki yehi hai khudi.

Khuda ki khwaiish

Aalam ye hai ki sab kuch surkh hai,
Khuda ke nagar main yeh banda kurk hai,
khidmat-e-shaitan hai insaan hua,
marz ye hai bada,isne sabko chhua.

Kamzarf bhatakta kyun hai pak ki chah main?
apne dil ko tatol,kya band hai us mazar main?
nakliyat ko paas rakh kar kya haasil hoga bande?
asli sukoon to allah ki janib main hi payega sunle.

Khali poshak pehankar,aur sar par sajde ki shaan lekar,
yeh yakin na kar lena ki tu parvardigar ko paa jayega,
apne haath khol,apna dil udel,tab jaakar kahin,
tere khoon main jo khalish hai,use mita paayega.

Azan kar,khuda ko yaad kar,to sabhi kehte hain,
par tu tabhi ibadat kar,jab sab us rehnuma ko bhoolte hain,
yaad rakh,rukhsar par sharifiyat ka to sabhi odh lete hai choga,
tu apni kaifiyat main qaid kar le fazihat,khuda tera hi hoga.

Dua Hai ..

Ya khuda,aye parvardigar,mere walden ka rakha khayal,
Main abhi door sahi unse,par unka noor hi hai mere zehen main har bar,
itna shaoor chhod dena mujhme,ki na meri vajah se tapke unke aansoon,
har ek nazm ko meri,har ek saans ko meri,hai unke hi shaan-e-darbaar ke didar ki darkar.

Itna mubarak hoon main,ki hosh paya apni ammi ke aagosh mein,
kitna sukoon hai,kitna josh hai,apne abba ke saath ki gayi mauj mein,
ye pal yadgaar hai meri zindagi ke,sanjo rakhna tu inhe apne nigah-e-soz main,
rapta hai bas inhi se mera,inhi se mera mukaddas hai,inhi se hai mera jahaan.

Eid,diwali ya lohdi,main nahi bhoola karna inka istekbal,
lanat bhejoon inke naam-e-pak par,aisa koi bhi kaam to bas hai haraam,
khafa na karna in farishton ko mujhse kabhi,kahan se laaonga main teri roshni ke ye do sitare dobara,
ata kar de meri umr bhi unhe,aane de apne jahaaz par mujhe,chhoone de kinara.

Harek marz,harek tees,har nasoor ka kadha hai meri walda,
apne walid se sikha hai maine salika,sharifiyat ka wo kayda,
namaz jo maine padhi makka ki jaanib,yahi do chehre zarranashin hue mere chashme-baddoor par,
khuddari bakshi hai tune mujhe,wada karta hoon ek shikan bhi na aane doonga hozoor apne walden ke rangonoor par.


badmizaz hai tere bina ye aalam,
viraan hai sab kuch,syahi nahi hai,kaise utaoon main kalam,
ek nazrana lekar aaya hoon,karta hoon tujhe salaam,
aadab baja lata hoon sar jhuka,kar na dena tu ise kalam.

khair,ranjish nahi hai aapke didar-e-sharif se,
par main ibadat kaise karoon ab us rafeeq se,
aapki hi hai ye inayat,ki ab mehwash hai mere salib pe,
rakhi hui hai aapki amanat,jaan bhi mang lena ab is garib se.

Sarfira nahi main,na hi hoon main banjaara,
khuda ki nehmat hai,abhi tak hoon kunwara,
aap ka hi tha dil ko intezar,keh gaya hai mujhe chamakta ek sitara,
sehra aur doli,yahi ek hasrat hai ab,aankhe kar chaar baitha hoon main bechara.

jaan nisar teri har ada par aye sanam,
ek aashiq ke dil se pooch,kya dhaaye hai us par tune sitam,
mehfil main jab aap aaye aaj,kiya is naacheez par jo karam,
us karz ko karoonga ata,nahi rakhna koi aur bharam.

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Random Rants..(2)

Organised Flutter of Random Mishaps..
Partly a motley,partly a union,crowd gather.You can very well tell that they were conscious.The hum of a thousand and more heartbeats beating out of sync,yet in some resonance,was creating an atmosphere of uniformity.I dread being part.
          Randomness is where my choices lay.To have a formula is to die.There is no such thing as organised crime.If there is ,it is not a crime.Even in the seemingly flawless tick of a second hand,there exists chances that might cause it to miss its beat.
                   Lest I fall into the miasma of serene mistakes that often have a pattern of repeating themselves,I choose the faraway mask of celebrating uniqueness.
  But the saplings have seeds in their guts,that I forgot.Slyly,I remnisce!Coyly I regret!Shamly I apologise.Rarely I go back on my mishaps because they leave no imprints,beacause they are random.No option of greater success can befuddle my addled brain to choose wisely.
             Simply taking a backflip into the enchanting mist can be immensly rewarding,as there is no randomness,neither there is impossibility of an organised result.You submit.You move over and above the results.You transcend.
       One direction,you look at hellish fires,other at the sight of greens of heaven.Don`t count the steps!!You are in bliss.

Lets Look Left...

Playing With Fire..Hell n Back.
Bribe me!Please!! Let me corrupt.Don`t worry about me going to hell! I want to go there myself.

Money!thats what drives me.It frees my insolence.Don`t indulge me too much though.But just give me enough to worry about.Getting on the wrong end of the stick doesn`t worry me any more.Actually I feel that all this while,education,morals,rules..they were there to make sure that there is a smooth transition from morals to more-'Ale's.Once you bite the golddust,you cannot go back.A monk can ofcourse sell his ferrari but he can`t past with tryst with luxury.Achieving salvation is also a luxury.Its a sin.But to escape the wordly sins to make the altar of the unworldly is itself a sin.One always is envious of himself first and then of others.You can`t escape the feeling,so drown yourself in it.Year by year you escape the inevitable.Getting waylaid by some goon or get some goon waylay someone for you is a fool`s choice.
                  Don`t be mistaken.Love is another form of many a peril one sidewalks straight into.Addiction is bad.Atleast when you are amongst the addicted,you feel part of,you don`t deel addicted.'Being high' means going high enough to pardon those souls who lie low and who envy your vertigo,albeit hidden in the veil of non-conformance.The parlance is getting mixed now.The filthy rich are nowhere filthy,the brawn is getting more brown as years pass by.Pure breed are a thing of the past now.Everyone is everyone now.We all are a family.A family which corrupts together,which wins together,which raps the knuckles of the wrongdooers together and which revels in the misery together.
                          On a tangential note,archery requires a bow,arrows and a target.What else?..hmmm a vision perhaps? it is the most important and the most frequently forgotten ingredient.But where to get all these in one place?There,there..don`t worry,its all in your head,flirting with fire,skirting around your lower drawers is considered fashionable anyways.Thieves act their thievery as if it`s a show that they are bringing out fot all of us.I feel that there is a mass driving emotion aka force in every generation.Thievery is certainly the emotion which is ruling the roost at this time.
                      Generations by generations,now are being enlightened to the succour in asking for more.More is no longer the cuss word to aspire,its no longer the wicketkeeper batsman we all loved to hate,but it is the emanicipation of that satanic theif that now has been euphemised as hunger drive.Wanting something,aiming for it and conspiring for it is the way of things now,we no longer wait ,we no longer believe in the world to conspire for us to make something happen,for the world is itself caught in the cycle akin to a dog chasing its tail.
           Nothing inspires us ingenuity ,nothing depresses as drudgery.Being smart is inchoated in the psycho of psychos.Psychos are now smart too.They are no longer the wide-eyed,toothy and slimy goons.They would loot you,yes! and in a way you would choose to be looted by them.
              Yesterday I met an old friend of mine.He was looking very drawn out.Very pale and sufferring his countenance seemed.I asked him for the reason.To my shock he pointed his scrubby hand at me.His hand lines were nowhere to be seen now.And I gasped.In one sudden realisation,I knew the reason for his plight.Because I left him behind,I neglected him all these years.
He was my conscience.   

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

Luck Denies...Deny Luck The Luxury..

Luck Culls : Curse the Spare

Running out of luck?Feeling undone?mistreated?Unjustly persecuted?
You`ve every right to be agrieved!!
But look no further.Your luck is standing just besides you.Cull him,because he`ll leave you anyway.Before your charm takes liking to someone else`s fortunes,you drop the returning ladder.
But everyone I meet seems at edge,seems unlucky.So who is the lucky guy then?Where all the lucks are exodussing?The saying goes opposite poles attract,but it seems lucks are more like honey bees or part of some ant family.They all seem to be struck at few ebony heads born with silver spoons and paddy unblemished feet.These exceptions in the now general law of misery are never pushed to think about whether they are lucky or his distant relative.But they aren`t.They leech lucks,they are like the breeding grounds for enslaving and ensnaring other`s luck charms.
       The definition of the white halo ring  round one`s head rests on the heady levers that conveniently push/pull the same to their whims and fancies.So being lucky isn`t even close to being good.Its a flickering phenomenon.The halo brought you luck and respect,so did the red horns and spiked tail but it brought luck garnished and marinated in the salt of being smart and snazzy.The pot of gold however is not a certainity to hower around even if the magical concoction prepared by the druid galbatorix himself is running amok in your veins.
       It seems the shiny metal has a mind of its own.But there`s a caveat.The luck when left alone & praised leaves and when it is cursed and catcalled,bounds back to home.LUCK as it is nowadays stands for Low Utilization of Certain Kryptonic kretinity.We can have several reasons for our prowesses being unheared,unheralded and unthroned,but the catalyst in setting off that spark which in turn ignites the frigid fire is just a result of coincidences that forgot their homing coordinates.
  The carrot is dangling in front of your eyes and your feet are leaded to the ground.The story of sour grapes is all but a part if our everyday lives.The externalities are the cynosure of our lives,phrases like 'why me always' is nothing but 'why can`t he'.The internal strength,the ephemeral 'Ball of fire',the roiled guts,the bull headedness is often rolled in the sweet jelly of expectations and is then buried deep in the frigid environs of our self obsessed
inertia,never to be kindled again.
            So,as expeditiously possible,kill the unlucky luck by your lucky sword of willpower and spare the unnecessary call for heads of the already headless dreams.Dreams,Ambitions,Hope and Luck shouldn`t be just a Dahl`s fiction,make it a real blockbuster.
            Here`s wishing you luck!  

Monday, October 25, 2010

Dont Wait For Love...Feel It...

"Seldom I felt you" ,"Often I waited"

Are you within me or it is just that air that shivers past in your lacuna? I can`t answer this.My lips quiver but they fail to meet.Your absence is one big truth but your presence is an even bigger truism.
   Laggard as I`ve been,I still beat those who feel that life`s a race ..I know better.I know its not about who finishes atop but about who finishes.My patience waivers,yet I wait.Irritated,I often chuck the threadball of romance out of the window,but I found much to my chagrin and in equal measure delight that its one end is always tied to my heart sleeve.Impossible to seperate,I coil back the inhibitions.
        Every other face I cast my steely eyes on,I see you,I expect you.I anticipate that surprise thump on my back from the alley corners I frequent.A face,unblemished,full of sunny disposition beams at me with all its strength.I feel that radiance,that power which helps me define you for you.You are everywhere,yet you are uncommon, a unique expression of my heart.

Easy to give upon you I say,but don`t listen to me I insist.Talk to me or else let me enjoy the bliss.Your presence is not evading,it is just fleeting.A non person description won`t suit upon you,neither it`ll fit your presence.You deserve much more,much more than my heart filled with anguish,much more beautiful than the half baked-half setting sun,much lighter than the lightest hair of my eyebrows that fall on my request to fill my deepest wishes.I define you as much as you define me.I say the wait kills me,but it also makes me immortal to your antics.Neither I accept the loneliness nor I give upon my right to protest your absence.
              In dreams you are there.You come as if it is you who are seeking me.Comforting as your presence is,I treat myself to your absence sans dreams.
Reality is absolved and silence is left alone when you take over my conscience.You never were any problem however.The problem was never your absence ,its only your promise of absence that creates a minor quake in my left aorta.Sprouts like promises and passion accompany the nurturing of our sacred love tree.The threads of your unremebered memories and untraveled heart lengths weave around the web of our union.Semblence of your heart ramblings echo in my feet-ebbs,as I trample down my misgivings.
                 Now I believe.Not that I ever questioned my belief.Yet it takes more than your constant absence to make me loose my saints.Sanity was never bequeathed to those who choose to remain in love abyss.I gave upon mine to match yours.Special sweetness awaits one who meets the hell raisers.
            They say I am not bothered.Well they don`t know me.I am just not aware.Elusive to my own mind,I catapult my vision to your incoming.sliding the door,I let you enter.All whitened,all embossed,you show me my face.I see see me.We both see only one person.How enchanting!How ingenous!!God`s ruse to save effort on multiple identities.Your union with me was never a question.The only mystery remains is who would shatter the self focussing mirrors of the glass chambers,who would wake the dream,who will be the first one to drive the hammer to the nail head?
          Pain awaits me,yet I excitedly look forward to it,disappointment lures in shadow,yet I am ready to welcome my long lost brother.your absence lingers,yet I draw upon reserves to fight off meeting blues.Nerves wreck havoc,heartbeat dance to the death tune,mind wanders hither thither,cajoling me,goading me to give in,to submit!,to turn witness to the crime.
                       But I am loyal.I won`t.I will wait.          

Friday, September 10, 2010

Baffling Technology...

technology unemployed!!!,Inept hands@ underfed technocrats

The button clumsy,the push failing to send signals,the display just about meeting the eyelenses,the communication competent but wayward.
Welcome to the utopia!!Welcome to the world without technology.

The time it takes for the signals from the radio waves to reach my handset,in the same time the technology is making the very thing it created obsolete.Technology sans settling time is like having a wine testing feast with your nose puckered and all botched up.Mind freaks out at the technique these technicians adopt for making the santa dance in 3-D and say ahoy! in HD.But When I reminisce about the days when the monster that is now the technology was just a toddler and we used to all happily wait for that postman to deliver us the breaking news instead of now slamming down the TV whenever we see these two farce words.Its like technology has overgrown within us.The shoots which we sowed outside now has its blight and canker within our now binded senses and is proliferating at freightning pace.
                          The slave master relationship now is in a brumous state and the effect of this dilution is slowly taking its toll on the thought process that seperates the bytes from the thoughts.We are already borrowing our thoughts from the techological marvels.TV gives us the language to speak,the glitterati to aim for and the morals to kill for.

              When the technology once employed to solve our problems becomes the recruiter itself and pours cold waters over our inquisitive fire,the need is to short circuit the connection we have with it.Outpacing technology can be boon to our underpaced and languid lifstyles which constantly demand gratification but is a agent of destruction for people like me who fail to keep pace.The distribution of knowledge of how to use technology across several hundred minds disallows the birth of a genius.Today what is seen a phlegmatic choice is a commoner choice.Today the technology rules the decision making,so very unlike the yonder years wherein the suspicion and gamesmanship was rife.Actually I kinda liked the virgin thought process I had in the absence of technology.Now its like the information is not only power,its powerless.Every tom,dick and harry knows how to make a bomb.I enjoyed the effort of going through the piles of books to extract that information.Now its easy to know and easy to forget.Its like generation Z is missing on so much fun.
                            We humans also have a xenophobia that aliens with superior technology might come and rule over us,and we would be left with the leftovers.But the aliens maybe are hiding in the ineptness that has crept in our senses.The inept hands that know only three letters on the keyboard(CCP) and the anathema that is google are harbingers of the tough times ahead.Many a minds have been left tending to marshes by this omniscient raconteur who would mesmerise one with sea of information that shuts down your neutral and natural thought process and instead becomes the amalgamation of several rotten shefs who have already spoiled many broths.
                Look at the world around us.Everybody is going nuts at the latest gadgets and features technology is throwing at us.Why?Whatever these dot matrix`ed labs throw at us ,we are ready to swoon after that like a dog scurries wagging his tail aft his master.The features of the new age generation is the inertness of protest they have in their minds,blindly calling the encore by the tech-gurus.
Look at the state of apathy technology has taken us to.We hardly care about the lacuna that exists in the hearts,we dont inflict punitive actions against our most severest of crimes,we sit on the couch...waiting...for the AC to blow and cool our hog heads..But we forget the biggest technology that there is ...humanity and nature.
Preserve the good and the evil shall catch the next bus to hell... 

Wednesday, September 8, 2010

My Hand At Poetry(2)...

1.Forest In The Backyard...

In the backyard of my home,
A forest lingered,its density unknown.
I wanted to visit it,my curiosity prone,
The attraction was too much,as in the morning light it shone.

In the backyard of my home,
A horse cart was lying,stooped like an inverted cone,
The horse somewhere in jungle,free from the tethered groan,
The hinning voice I heared,reflecting from the stock and stone.

In the backyard of my home,
A dark world of animals,an alien abode,
The strange sounds to the outsider are all a code,
The place where the angels fear to tread,is nothing but a natural dome.

In the backyard of my home,
There exists a world unknown,a forest of thorn,
Where I went one day,my bravest move since I was born,
A terrifying place I must say,not a place for children to roam.

In the backyard of my home,
I experienced a whole new world,beastly yes,
But atleast pure and unsoiled,free from the human mess,
I came back shaken but got a new home

2.Going Back...nostalgia.

Some Of Those Days.....

I used to go to play,
Soaking wet,the night nigh,
My beat soaring,my spirits high,
never I used to say nay....

Some Of Those Days.....

I was an innocent bystander,
The world to me was full of chocolates,
Sweet sweet,yummy fun,never worried about the count of my platelates,
Never I went asking the fill to the bartender....

Some Of Those Days.....

I used to go to school,
Dressed all white,a little angel,
Bag too heavy,knowledge was hard to untangle,
Never I worried about being a fool.

Some Of Those Days.....

I used to laugh alot,
Joy no bounds,playful instincts galored,
Teeth bared,I dilligently said Oh! lord!!
Never I backbited & said what!!!?

Some Of Those Days.....

I used to run along unabated,
Time was never a factor,wasted alot!
Never know what`s going on,lost the plot!
Legs hurt,arms paining,spirit not jaded.

Some Of Those Days.....

I used to dream of god,
My eyelids closed,sleep overcame me.
Always I woke up to the rustling tree,
To right and righteousness,I always gave a nod.

But Now.............

Several years gone! My thoughts barely a reverberation.
I am proud of my life.
It calls for a celebration.


A lacuna lingers,
A symbiotic festers,
All relevance shimmers,
Yet the mirage never appears.

A lacuna lingers,
My thoughts banters,
A fire cinders,
Not all thomases though are doubters.

A lacuna lingers,
geography splinters,
Psyche murders,
I allay my fears.

A lacuna lingers,
My heart sings prayers,
Not a light,all nighters,
Seldom I caress some hairs.

A lacuna lingers,
A commong thread hangers,
Surmise the usurpers,
Never the evidence loiters.

A lacuna lingers,
Border lights twinkers,
The freedom  blinkers,
The white horse tethers.

A lacuna lingers,
Hang atop the bearers,
The truth now in jitters,
Right to the left of the jesters.

A lacuna lingers..........


Shining thru the cavern of ignorance,
My conscience gave me a cognizance,
Of the world that seemed void of clairvoyance.
The engines running along,fine but jaded with impugnance.

I know it all now,Yes sir! in all its resplendence,
Not severed! Not shunned, I am in acceptance.
Of the inert world order,but in abeyance.
How do I resist it,you ask,very well!, hear out the story of my patience.

The first hour I screamed ,second I cried,Third I stamped my feet in resonance,
Fourth I wiped my tears off sleeves,Fifth I pasted a smile of crocodile on my countenance.
What was left for me to do was to laugh which I did,albeit jest was never in it, not even in semblence.

I looked at my visage,made up,patched up,
now looking well fed & nurtured ,I conformed in a quick askance.

Now I imploded a world ,entirely different from the one I am bound in,all in ignorance!
In this world of mine,I choose to be a pauper,as no one is there to ridicule my despondence.
Never again I had to scour for a utopia,For I created one in me ,sheer oblivience.

Static I was ,Mobile I became,
Stagnant I was,fluid I became,
The silver lining? without any influence.


5. Seven Days of Nightmare.....

Come MONDAY & I wake up to work!
This is the day I resent and sulk!
The face of my boss,filled with smirk!
His expectation self evident,silently calling me a dork!

Come TUESDAY ,I get my spirit back!
When I look at the accolades prized in my rack!
Precisely then my luck runs out,& gets in my face with a smack!
Thought the end was bad,its afterall a two legged stork!

Come WEDNESDAY & my engines are revving & on track!
I see light at the tunnel-end,though it is still still and dark!
I work like a horse,not like a dog with no bite just a bark!
Third day of week,I completed with a hoot that was meek!

Come THURSDAY & I shout mayday! I need a spark!
Its all dull,Its all pointless,the ignominy stark!
The monotony`s all devouring,like a great white shark!
Last day of the formals,last day of the bottle with a cork!

Come FRIDAY & I was deep ino muck!
MY boss was after me ,running with a pointed fork!
I decided enough was enough,I let my papers honk!
Finally out of the captivity,the pig was spared the pork!

Come SATURDAY & I was happy as a lark!
Finally I never have to worry about any more or no perk!
Free bird I was now ,I sauntered in the park!
With autumn coming nigh,I sat by the tree`s bark!

Come SUNDAY & I reveled in the uncontrolled torque!
I no longer was called an ubiquitous jerk!
I didn`t worry about the girl,I gave upon the merck!
Salvation beackoned me,light finally won over the dark!!!

From the visage of my helmet,I saw....

From the Visage of my helmet....

Donning the biker`s gloves I purchased yesterday was the the last thing I did before yanking my thumb on the electric start button of my monster of a bike.
The engine cheerfully roared to life and soon I was feeling the hum,drum and the throb of the 2 pistons working extra hard to catch that escaping droplet of "oil from the rocks".But I was more excited by the input I received from the 2 roving sensory organs placed in the 2 hollow sockets lying on the either side of the bridge of my nose.Soon as I was scootering across the asphalt smeared roads,I saw many things.some of them made me jump from the reclined seat of my cruiser bike.Difficult to account,but here`s what I must have seen....

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"A school bus"

Yellow coloured bus,pasted with warning signs.with toddlers aboard,it was merrily going along a vector.All children in grey and green school uniforms were looking like a jewish group in nazi trucks about to be gassed at aushwitz.Understandably so,as it was only 7 am in the morning.They must have been up since 5.30 am.So much so for learning few letters.Phew!I felt pity for these little younglings & felt elated on being free from study.Although in a corner of my heart,I rue not being on the bus myself and trudging that last mile to school with an all hunched back as the schoolbag took its weigh-toll on me.Sigh!I zoomed ahead leaving the childern to their share of bliss.

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"A family"

Sleeping under an under construction flyover.
I just had a glance.I raced past the construction site.But that one look made me search my soul.The family of five was still in their dreams.Their faces were worn out by their travails of yesterday and they were completely streched out as if the body was bereft of the soul.Not a single muscle moved.The pose of the sleeping persons as if freezed in time and space.The 3 children,cuddled up in their mother`s embrace,maybe still hungry,father and mother looked battered,they looked like nursing their muscles and sleeping sans the worry of a hard day ahead.They were drawing peace and exuding serenity.In the unlikeliest of conditions.
God bless them...I carried on ...

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

" A policeman"

Sleeping in his van.
In complete constrast to the work strewn worker family,the police 24*7 assistance van was aboard 3 police personnel,all slumbering and snoring in their lazy sleep.The emergency beeper turned off,the policemen it seems were on a important manhunt albeit in their dreams.The head inspector was donning his cap if anyone comes to inquire about the laxity on display,atleast their head is covered from the ignominy leave aside protecting the headless common man anyway.The readiness of our forces left me appalled.Protesting silently as we all do,I moved away from the forgetful scene.Just questioning myself,Had I been a cop, would I even be wearing that cap ? Maybe Not !..
....I motored on ...

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

" A cartpusher"

Dragging on the cart full..

Our speed differential was tantamount to the concord-chopper speed difference.His flexing muscles,matted hair,grime smeared shirt and a seemingly war battered chappals,the force of friction that the four tyres of the cart offer against the ground forcing him to arch his back to push the overladen cart.
 The unnamed cart puller was barely looking askance.The round trips would earn him more.This world,I thought naturally blocks all other external sounds ,all other ambitions,thoughts,glutton,events from his brain which pales in comparison to the effort his body puts in.Just one brain wave..push the damn thing ahead.Unfathomably,our world where emotions are abundant,it still caters to these hercules of old.But I thought as I was going past him,When he`ll reach his destiny? Maybe never,For he is trapped in an infinite loop.But in hindsight...Aren`t we all ?


From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

" A signal begger children"

Dragging on ...

It was that kind of morning.Depressing!! Not a single happy person I saw on road.And the next person I saw was even worse,someone straight from the devil`s nation himself.But he was a child.On a crutch!! Amputed!!! Naturally of forcefully, I don`t know.Only thing I could sense was that he was begging.For salvation maybe,for deliverance maybe..but he was begging.A steel bowl in one hand.On the signal,scores of them,are always there.An eyesore! a burden on my eyes I can`t explain.Sleeping in threadbare clothes,selling ringlets,newspapers,rugs,balloons,begging in lieu of their disabled plight,they are like an incubus.
when it comes to unfortunate children & my inabliliy( at present) to make their fortunes touch the golddust( except for few pennies spared for them),I choose to run away..escape the pain...flee....

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

" A political Logjam"

It was now 9 am in the morning.Not too early neither too late.The traffic was now in its full bloom.Office time,work time! Time crunch! Rat race begins for the day.The biggest rat of them all was now out of its hole,sqeaking,rattling its teeth,conniving,jostling for that cheesy treasure,smelling the spoils.But he is not alone.Other small rats are now doing the bidding for him,scourging for the next gunny bag to sink its teeth in.
       With this thought on having the first sight of the cavalcade of the open air jeeps that just shot past me ,I was still having blurry visuals in my eyes as flashes.The flags,the blaring notes of the loudspeaker,the fist pumping ,the flag waving ,the illegible slogan shouting..amidst all the din !!!
     It was a political logjam.The supporters of the local candidate were all boarded up in the open air jeep,trying to imbue the minds of the commoners with the insignia of their ingnominy.Nothing wrong in that !But somehow their conspicuous presence makes me puke.
Holding my crap inside,I moved ahead....

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"pertol pumpman"


But it won`t go.The bike & the biker stood standstill in the middle of the S curve.Some autopsy & the indicator panel showed me that we have run out of gas.Believe me,Cartwheeling a 100 kg bike is no boy`s task.
            The sun was out now in its full as if it was waiting to char me whenever I became most vulnerable.Gas station which I reached after panting my way for about 2-3 Km was looking deserted.I was aghast!Still cluthing at my side-stitches,I fervently prayed for a humanoid.And here he was,all dressed in blue and red.I looked at him as I was removing the last drop of sweat that had found its way in my eye.He looked happy,almost chuckling at some thought.I smiled back,which he gracefully returned.I didn`t ask him,but he started telling me as an eager pupil answers the unquestioned to the teacher for brownie points. He told me about the petrol pumps strike from tomorrow,the decision just came and presumably according to him I should be proud of receiving this news from the horse`s mouth.This meant,he told me that it would be possible for him to go to home.
Whoaa!!! his chirpish happiness would make several people cry tomorrow onwards,I thought.Neways ,hiding my grimace in a grin,I told him blankly "100 Rs".The nozzle throbbed from the speeding fuel as the indicator went back to his green rest,leaving the pump man to his utopia.I started to kick my bike and I suddenly thought shouldnt I fill more petrol and as I took a start to go back,I realised that I was groping for cash both in wallet and in my card.
Bad Luck!!

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"A teacher"

She looked like one.I think she was a teacher.The lady at the bus stop reminded me of my school teachers.The serene attire that was a saree,the disciplined look in the eyes,the glasses perched atop the nose bridge,a bag with school papers in them,she looked every bit of those good old madams.And I involuntarily greeted her.She kindled into a warm smile.Maybe she saw the child in me.
That made my day.

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"A milkman"

I always wondered how the heavy milk cans were managed by the milkman atop a bicycle.These days such sights are such a luxury in metros and big cities where the milkmen have given way to packed milk.But I got hold of a rarity.A burly milkman with bushes for a moustache was floating atop his curvaceous seat in a oscillating fashion,and as my eyes recall,two big steel cans full of milk( or maybe water+milk or maybe just water !!)lolling by the side.As the Clunk of the chain hitting the cycle saddle became a rythem,I realised that he was singing along with the sound.Trying to listen to his deep grunted cockcrow song,I almost overbalanced myself.The man looked at me and tried to disapprovingly told me to ride safe.
I thought I should leave the balancing act to him and took a right turn.

From the visage of my helmet,I saw- 

" two lovers"

A park raced past and there were two lovers sitting on the bench.Hands wound as if it were a handcuff,they looked lost.And I got lost too.Remniscing love is like a slow poison.I replaced the boy`s face  with mine as I inadvertantly and rudely stared at the couple.Not noticing me,they kept to themselves.
My heart warm from the fumes of love-soup,I started my own preparations to disembark.
Home was near...

From the visage of my helmet,I saw-

"A hero"

Suddenly the most vivid image,the most moving picture was played in my 6/6 clear vision.The hero! The one who gave something very dear to him to someone else.I watched in awe as a dog,pale as a dog (fitting proverb) eating a bread like thing saw a dying sparrow on the road.The dog`s natural instict was to race to the dying little thing and devour it.But it didn`t.It went to the sparrow,smelled it,and just as I was turning my face away thinking that he is going to eat it,he ran back and brought the bread like thing to the dying bird.
Nothing mattered afterwards.Not if the bird ate the thing or not,not if the bird lived after that or not,what mattered was the energy that was in the air.
The energy of being good.....

And at the end of my journey,I was not alone.I brought wings to my life.

Random Musings...