siine me.n jalan aa.Nkho.n me.n tuufaan saa kyuu.N hai

usual 'festival time' packed trains... the difference between usually packed and 'festival time' packed is in its commuter crowd, during ganpati, ramzaan, navratri, rakhi, diwali, mountmary fair, people travel in families (don't they get tired of long queues, not working coupon machines, delayed trains, jewellery, kids, tantrums, sweat, etc etc? anyway. i salute people's enthu) with bags, kids, costumes, giggly crabby loud noises et al. (yes yes looks like am getting old as well...) anyway... so one of those days...

time is around 10 pm, place - 2nd class women's compartment in a badlapur train... crowded, no place to sit except an occasional fourth seat... kids standing in most of the windows looking straight poking out for fun and "reverse in" for all the reassuring glances from their mommies... it is already late ALL the women...

one woman gets in with her kid (heads for window like a good boy) and she tries to squeeze on the fourth seat... there are two women standing having aconversation with the other seated three... till this point they are all the same, always-slightly-irritated-but-trying-to-look-at-the-brighter-side working middle class women managing their families, festivals, jobs with great difficulty and greater courage...

in a flash, the usual "aap thoda sarko na" "aap thik se baitho na" "eisahi chalna padna hai" sort of squabble becomes a religious, swear words laden full fledged war of words... the three properly seated and two standing muslim women pounce on the latest very hindu looking entrant saying horrible horrible things to her... as retaliation to something she mumbled under her breath as a part of her fourth seat angst... clearly a casteist racist sort of remark which comes so naturally to anyone these days... "we will show you what we are" "get down at mumbra" "what do YOU think you are bitch" were among the milder ones...

they discussed everyones lineage, legitimate and otherwise, while they were shouting, she was mumbling, not in a scared vulnerable way but reproachful, disapproving, trying-to-garner-suport from other travellers sort of way... as the fight became not-easy-on-anyone, especially kids, the hindu woman got up and moved over to another door and left the group... the muslim women got off at mumbra and train stopped longer than usual so that everyone could watch them narrate the incident to their male counterparts... the hindu woman got back to same (!) seat and started one of those "these-women-i-tell-you" talks... of course followed by supporting "i-know-i-tell-you" type of discussions...

a simple fourth seat quarrel had so many prejudices surface and with such venom and vengeance on both sides... where do we get this misdirected hatred from? how many of those had actually interacted with members of any other community let alone religion... how long can we go on discussing the socio-politico-economic-religious reasons for such a scary chasm...

the confused scared kid in his "reverse in" position staring at the elderly expletives flying around comes to my mind more often than not these days...

siine me.n jalan aa.Nkho.n me.n tuufaan saa kyuu.N hai

shahryar

siine me.n jalan aa.Nkho.n me.n tuufaan saa kyuu.N hai

is shahar me.n har shaKhs pareshaan saa kyuu.N hai

dil hai to dha.Dakane kaa bahaanaa ko_ii Dhuu.NDhe

patthar kii tarah behis-o-bejaan saa kyuu.N hai

tanhaa_ii kii ye kaun sii manzil hai rafiiqo

taa-hadd-e-nazar ek bayaabaan saa kyuu.N hai

ham ne to ko_ii baat nikaalii nahii.n Gam kiivo zuud-e-pashemaan

pashemaan saa kyuu.N hai

kyaa ko_ii na_ii baat nazar aatii hai ham me.n

aa_iinaa hame.n dekh ke hairaan saa kyuu.N hai

woh samundar ho jati hai...

people say one should always preserve oneself in any life situation. it's a noble thought. but i have my doubts and metaphors. here's my first one.

loving someone with adequate self preservation and without really wholeheartedly plunging is like walking in the rain with windcheaters and raincoats on. the happiness you get out of both situations is of having protected yourself against a potential possible hurt or cold or fever. not of getting drenched, soaked and absorbed. i know it is stupid romantic, but as drishtidyumna dhumketu barishkar says in thoda sa rumani ho jaye,

do ghato ke beech ek nadi hai jo samundar se milti hai,
ghat ghat rehte hain,
wo samundar ho jati hai...

ai Khudaa ret ke saharaa ko sama.ndar kar de

Shahid Meer

ai Khudaa ret ke saharaa ko sama.ndar kar de

yaa chhalakatii aa.Nkho.n ko bhii patthar kar de
tujhako dekhaa nahii.n mahasuus kiyaa hai mai.n ne

aa kisii din mere ehasaas ko paikar kar de
aur kuchh bhii mujhe darakaar nahii.n hai lekin

merii chaadar mere pairo.n ke baraabar kar de

the in between time

Twilight

The time is in between. It has always been the time that links day and night, bright and dark, white and black. The in between time... Twilight time…

when people and sparrows begin their journey home… they are in between too… not at work… not home yet… coz everyone here lives 'far far' away… transition time… to put it clinically...

and to not to put it clinically, this sepia yellow light that just takes over everything, roads, skies, sea, traffic, people, trees... it has strange qualities… that it is romantic is established from scores of poems that talk about this time… but why do these moments make one restless… I can't sit at home around this time… can't sleep, can't read, can't be alone, can't be together, can't be this and can't be that…

but sometimes am on marine drive watching the sky play with sunrays and shadows and watching the sea taking it all in… and there are many taking a slice of this with them… many don't (there is many for everything here, na?)... in buses, in trains, on the roads as they restlessly take the journey home… soon it becomes dark…

the street lights start lighting up when it is only half dark…like a punctual, rather, just-before-time-this-is-my-first-job employee… they come on one by one… carefully, like a well mannered queue at a bus stop…
gracefully - allowing each one to light well, see the ocean and take a bow, so that the next one in line doesn't hog the attention the previous one would have got, like when aspiring-but- not-aggressive junior artists introduce themselves at an audition...

and then the sky lets the street light become the centre of attention, it becomes dark, the sea tries to become invisible letting “the queen's necklace” perform, except for it's mild waves which are lost in the traffic honks…only an occasional bird with my kind of sense of direction is circling around, sometimes worried, sometimes not…

the moment is over in no time… before you know it is night… before you know you have ended the day… before you know you have missed the moment... before you know you forgot…that the journey, the twilight, the in-between was beautiful too…

skies were vying for your attention while you ran for the train, bus, coz there were people, children, unclean rooms, half-cooked meals, last-minute-touches presentations, demanding the same you far more aggressively…

will we hurriedly sleep-walk though life and miss the play of colours? will we enjoy the journey and not just “yo-i-did-it” joy (or the “phew” of thank-god-i-made-it) of reaching the destination?

the bright blue skies now slowly turn into twilight colours, and that beautiful restless quivery moment slides onto the city, the waves, the trains, the crowds…there is going to be a huge traffic jam and I’ll watch a mad bird circling around as day becomes night…

dil bhii bujhaa ho shaam kii parachhaa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n

ahmed faraz

dil bhii bujhaa ho shaam kii parachhaa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n
mar jaa_iye jo aise me.n tanhaa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n
aa.Nkho.n kii surKh lahar hai mauj-e-suparadagii
ye kyaa zaruur hai ke ab anga.Daa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n
har husn-e-saadaa lau na dil me.n utar sakaa
kuchh to mizaaj-e-yaar me.n geharaa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n
duniyaa ke tazakire to tabiyat hii le bujhe
baat us kii ho to phir suKhan aaraa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n
pahale pahal kaa ishq abhii yaad hai 'Faraz'
dil Khud ye chaahataa hai ke rusvaa_iyaa.N bhii ho.n

hum kaale hai to kya hua...

doves, totaa-maina, cuckoos, bulbuls, nightingales (is that fictitious?) love birds, and such lovely looking happy singing pretty things are the romeo juillets of the winged world! however, one of these potholed days (this is my protest, whenever i have my bones rattled in any auto rides, i call it a pothole-d day), high up on one of the biggish spread out huge trees, i saw a crow couple coochicoooing. and it was very very kyooooot!

crows are smart, crows are noisy, crows fly away with food packets, watches, plastic, face towels, crows inspire poets (ted hughes and the crow series), crows demand food at few kitchen windows, crows bully sparrows, crows survive in the city, crows help dead people reach heaven as per hindu rites, crows warn people if guests are planning to gate crash (ah! the lovely indian myths!), jooth bole kauwa kaate, crows this crows that.

but crows as lovers, hmmm... not to my knowledge...

yet these two black, shivery-wet-in-the-rain, spots on the branch seemed like a breath of fresh air on the boring rainbow coloured love bird scene...

though brought up on melodramatic bollywood, that image didn't bring any classic romantic sequences in my head... no endless tulips, waterfalls, flying dupattas... instead... it coincided with umpteen couples exchanging a hurried hug at a busy busy marine drive or the ones saying a reluctant bye at churchgate station... or an old grand dad getting a gajra for his old old wife...

common man's love, tera mera pyaar, is so beautiful na?

Taaj Mahal

Sahir Ludhianvi

aaj tere liye ik mazahar-e-ulfat hii sahii

tum ko is vaadii-e-ra.ngii.n se aqiidat hii sahii

[mazahar-e-ulfat = symbol of love; vaadii-e-ra.ngii.n = beautiful spot;

aqiidat = respect/preference?]

mere mahabuub kahii.n aur milaa kar mujh se!

bazm-e-shaahii me.n Gariibo.n kaa guzar kyaa maanii

sabt jis raah pe ho.n satavat-e-shaahii ke nishaa.N

us pe ulfat bharii ruuho.n kaa safar kyaa maanii

[bazm-e-shaahii = royal court; sabt = etched]

[satavat-e-shaahii = royal grandeur; ulfat bharii ruuh = lovers]

merii mahabuub pas-e-pardaa-e-tashhiir-e-vafaa

tuu ne satavat ke nishaano.n ko to dekhaa hotaa

murdaa shaaho.n ke maqaabir se bahalevaaliia

pane taariik makaano.n ko to dekhaa hotaa

[pas-e-pardaa-e-tashhiir-e-vafaa = behind the veil of this advertisement of faith/love]

[satavat = wealth/grandeur; maqaabir(maqabaraa) = tomb; taariik = dark]

anaginat logo.n ne duniyaa me.n muhabbat kii hai

kaun kahataa hai ki saadiq na the jazbe un ke

lekin un ke liye tashhiir kaa saamaan nahii.n

kyuu.N ke vo log bhii apanii hii tarah mufalis the

[saadiq = true; tashhiir = advertisement; mufalis = poor]

ye imaaraat-o-maqaabir ye fasiile.n, ye hisaar

mutal-qulhukm shahanashaaho.n kii azamat ke sutuu.N

daaman-e-dahar pe us ra.ng kii gulakaarii haijis me.n shaamil hai

tere aur mere ajadaad kaa Khuu.N

[hisaar = forts; mutal-qulhukm = unthinking/arrogant; azamat = greatness;

sutuu.N = symbol][daaman-e-dahar = on the face of this world; gulakaarii = flowers

and vines][ajadaad = ancestors]

merii mahabuub! u.nhe.n bhii to muhabbat hogii

jinakii sannaa_ii ne baKhshii hai ise shakl-e-jamiil

un ke pyaaro.n ke maqaabir rahe benaam-o-namuud

aaj tak un pe jalaa_ii na kisii ne qa.ndiil

[sannaa_ii = artistry; shakl-e-jamiil = beautiful form]

[benaam-o-namuud = without name or even a trace; qa.ndiil = candle]

ye chamanazaar ye jamunaa kaa kinaaraa ye mahal

ye munaqqash dar-o-diivaar, ye maharaab ye taaq

ik shahanashaah ne daulat kaa sahaaraa le kar

ham Gariibo.n kii muhabbat kaa u.Daayaa hai mazaak

mere mahabuub kahii.n aur milaa kar mujhase!

mujhse pehli si mohabbat mere mehboob na mang..

sanjay dutt got sentenced to six years. as opposed to 12 got death sentences, 20 lifers, and several more 14 years, 12 years et al. since september 12 last year. last one week was the culmination of 14 years ofcourse. the memons, sanjay dutt, end of trial, supposed justice to victims and what not. add to that july blasts, lack of rain or such pot boilers...

in the meanwhile, my cousin passed his m com. another one celebrated her birthday. my dad fell ill to be hospitalised. my sister in far away in the UK might be pregnant. "ashadhi ekadashi" went by when my family members celebrated with delicious "fast" food.. my grand parents spent another day thinking about their lives and waiting for their grand children to call them.. mom called once again to check on food, health, general wellbeing and gently (and firmly) reminding me of my duties in the family...

in the meanwhile, friends came over, had conversations, expressed concern over sanjay dutt, cricket, traffic, pakistan and pot holes... we drank some, ate some, talked some more and planned to meet again... some long lost friends came and went without managing to meet and were lost again...

then i meet a distant family member, about 35 years older, who i meet as a part of must-do duties... and voila... she has similar experiences, similar questions and slightly more baked answers than what i have... we leave it at that... we connected but we leave it at that... perhaps i have more doubts now...

the rains have started again.. but i don't call my school friend with whom i celebrated every single day of the monsoon... i instead spend my time arguing with people about existence of death sentence in our law... fasting with grand parents and feasting with friends was great fun... but now i curse myself for forgetting to book the gas and end up eating alone at cafes as i jot down some random thoughts... it was so easy to feel happy for my achievements and to sob over my failures... or lets extend it to family and friends... but spending sleepless nights for something i can't see, touch or explain seems just as effortless... and i have managed to rope in the rain and the sea in this confusing business...

those days of simple joys were beautiful.. but these days of complex sorrows are infinitely more beautiful.. and more real perhaps...

pahalii sii muhabbat

faiz ahmed faiz

mujh se pahalii sii mohabbat merii mahabuub na maa.Ng

mai.n ne samajhaa thaa ki tuu hai to daraKhshaa.N hai hayaat
teraa Gam hai to Gam-e-dahar kaa jhaga.Daa kyaa hai
terii suurat se hai aalam me.n bahaaro.n ko sabaat
terii aa.Nkho.n ke sivaa duniyaa me.n rakkhaa kyaa hai (*)
tuu jo mil jaaye to taqadiir niguu.N ho jaaye
yuu.N na thaa mai.n ne faqat chaahaa thaa yuu.N ho jaaye
aur bhii dukh hai.n zamaane me.n mohabbat ke sivaa
raahate.n aur bhii hai.n vasl kii raahat ke sivaa

mujh se pahalii sii mohabbat merii mahabuub na maa.Ng

anaginat sadiyo.n ke taariik bahimaanaa talism
resham-o-atalas-o-kam_Khvaab me.n bunavaaye huye
jaa-ba-jaa bikate huye kuuchaa-o-baazaar me.n jism
Khaak me.n litha.De huye Khuun me.n nahalaaye huye
jism nikale huye amaraaz ke tannuuro.n se
piip bahatii hu_ii galate huye naasuuro.n se
lauT jaatii hai udhar ko bhii nazar kyaa kiije
ab bhii dil_kash hai teraa husn maGar kyaa kiije
aur bhii dukh hai.n zamaane me.n mohabbat ke sivaa
raahate.n aur bhii hai.n vasl kii raahat ke sivaa

mujh se pahalii sii mohabbat merii mahabuub na maa.Ng


[daraKhshaa.N : shining; hayaat = life]
[Gam-e-dahar = sorrows of the world; aalam = world]
[sabaat = permanence; niguu.N = bow/subservient]
[faqat = merely; vasl = union/meeting; taariik = dark]
[bahiimaanaa = dreadful; talism = magic]
[resham = silk; atalas = satin; kam_Khvaab = brocade]
[jaa-ba-jaa = hither-thither; litha.De = covered/soaked in]
[amaraaz = diseases; tannuuro.n = ovens; piip = pus]
[naasuur = ulcer/a wound that won't heal; dil_kash = heart-warming]

rahen na rahen hum...mehka karenge...

veena, someone who signs her name with a prominent towering V, a practising psychologist who worked for a suicide helpline, someone who seems to have gathered her thoughts very early in life.. someone i have never met, will never meet, someone who has touched the lives of some of the most genuine people i know, someone who died like many many thousands in a mishap ten years ago...

for veena, her friends have started Vee foundation, which will try to make a difference in its own way... a thought which has crystalised over two years to do something, which would have made veena proud... Vee foundation has collected rs.50 from some people... the total will add up to a moderate amount.. the idea is to fund a child's education, to start with...

there are no strategies, agendas, promises... but everyone will try in their own way to make this into a creative, sensitive, productive endeavour... kyunki koshish hi kamyaab hoti hai.. vaade aksar toot jate hain.. koshish hi kaamyaab hoti hai... as diaphanous would quote from some gulzar, i suppose..

i have only interacted with some of her friends and heard about her once in a while... i dont know her but sometimes i feel i do know her... and many times i feel i don't really need to know her... coz i have seen how she is thought of, remembered, missed... like memory of that beautiful shower in july as u turn your old diaries and see those dried drops... it's not the dried drops u see, its the gush that fills up your heart.. it's not the absence we painfully live with, it's the presence we celebrate...

rahen na rahen hum...
mehka karenge...
banke kali, banke sama
baag-e-wafa mein...

jab hum na honge aur hamari khaak pe tum rukoge
chalte chalte...
ashkonse bhigi chandni mein..
ek sadasi sunoge...
chalte chalte...
wahin pe kahin, wahin pe kahin...
tumse milenge...
banke kali... banke sama, baag-e-wafa mein...

kyuu.N hame.n maut ke paiGaam diye jaate hai.n

been covering the 1993 blasts judgment. since yesterday there have been six death sentences. the moment judge announced first death sentence, television reporters ran, rushed, scurried to "break the news." anyway. death sentence. for some people who planted vehicle bombs which killed 257 and injured 700 on march 12 1993. it has been 14 years. then there were interviews of victims families saying whether justice has been done now or not. justice? really?

if my dad is killed in a blast should i wait for somebody else's father to be killed? will it be as simple as that? then do i wish death for every reckless driver who mows down people. every careless person who sells contaminated milk from which little children die? every country liquor maker who is responsible for several hooch tragedies? death for every irresponsible, insensitive, angry action or reaction. death sentence. really?

hindu muslim divide. animosity of over 60 years. politically driven riots, attacks, demolitions, combing operations, shri krishna commission, interrogations, innocent deaths, not so innocent deaths,divide, hindu muslim, dalit brahmin, marathi non marathi, poverty, reaction, action, mob psychology, minority, majority, left leaning, right wingers, socialists, human rights, pending love stories, patient wait, impatient outbursts, 14 years, seven more blasts, hundreds more killed, many more trials, interrogations, acquittals, custodial death, national security, encounters, press conferences, chargesheets, probation applications, mercy petitions, exposes, scoops, defamation, allah, bhagwan, god, daughters, jobs, smuggling, changing times, not so changing times, fresh blood, stale tears, friendly cops, not so friendly cops, pakistan, ISI, LeT, Al Qaida, VHP, Sena, RSS, Bajrang Dal, prime conspirators, masterminds, petitioners, convicted, accused, suspects, people, human beings, all of them, victims and convicted and spectators, all of them, citizens of free india, really?

endless interactions with the these guys over several years makes everything more confusing. can a system forgive someone who commits a "heinous crime" but will not in future? can someone in power ensure that such circumstances do not arise that easily - be it security, intelligence or pure harmony?

in the world of grey and more grey, a stark, sure, confident, finite, death sentence. really?

kyuu.N hame.n maut ke paiGaam diye jaate hai.n
shamim jaipuri

kyuu.N hame.n maut ke paiGaam diye jaate hai.n
ye sazaa kam hai ke jiye jaate hai.n

nashaa dono.n me.n hai saaqii mujhe Gam de yaa sharaab
mai bhii pii jaatii hai aa.Nsuu bhii piye jaate hai.n

ek tuu hai ke hamaarii nahii.n tujh ko parvaa
ek ham hai.n ke teraa naam liye jaate hai.n

zindagii apanii kashaakash me.n guzaratii hai "Shamim"
jii nahii.n chaahataa jiine ko jiye jaate hai.n

[kashaakash = struggle]

shaayad abhii hai raakh me.n ko_ii sharaar bhii

one of those absolutely ordinary days... usual "to-do" on agenda, usual delays, usual dash of rain while getting into an auto, usual musings and more dozings (that's my latest contribution to this lovely phirang language!), usual honking and usual actually-looking-at-nothing-wait at the station road in bandra... until a flash of purple from a "nothing-new-about-it"grey and brown, a purple coffin in the making...

i have never really noticed this little undertakes shop which sits between hardware, eateries, electricians, this and that.. i still dont know what the other shops are... i don't know if this shop makes coffins regularly and in the colours that i saw... or was it this death, this coffin, this moment...

against a drip drip of bored rain, against a khit khit of weary crowd, against a grey and brown of hectic helpless dragging of time, some death seemed so purple-pink-violet, so colourful, so hopeful and yes, so full of life...

as my auto zoomed past that turn and as the adventurous pothole dash brought me back to the bored rain, weary crowd and dreary brown, the guys were busy getting the purple coffin ready... i quizzed a watery tear and a half choke if heaven is supposed to be starry pure bleach whie or purple-pink-violet... may this soul rest in peace...

shaayad abhii hai raakh me.n ko_ii sharaar bhii

ada jafri

shaayad abhii hai raakh me.n ko_ii sharaar bhii
kyo.n varnaa intazaar bhii hai iztiraar bhii
[sharaar = spark; iztiraar = restlessness]
dhyaan aa gayaa hai marg-e-dil-e-naamuraad kaa
milane ko mil gayaa hai sukuu.N bhii qaraar bhii
[marg-e-dil-e-naamuraad = death of an unsuccessful/unlucky heart]
ab Dhuu.NDhane chale ho musaafir ko dosto
hadd-e-nigaah tak na rahaa jab Gubaar bhii
[hadd-e-nigaah = (to the) limits of one's vision]
har aastaa.N pe naasiyaa_farsaa hai.n aaj vo
jo kal na kar sake the teraa intazaar bhii
[aastaa.N = threshold; naasiyaa_farsaa = one who rubs his forehead]
[ik raah ruk ga_ii to ThiThak kyo.n ga_ii 'Ada'
aabaad bastiyaa.N hai.n pahaa.Do.n ke paar bhii

thandi hawa kali ghata...

its dark and it is only 4 pm in this part of the world... until last week the sun refused to budge till it was well past 6 and reminded us that the summer was very very much in action... add couple of degrees grace a global waming!

but now it is dark, wet breeze is going a bit mad alongwith the mad cuckoo i have been listening to amidst this mad honking, tiny reddish new pipal leaves are looking excited, and the sea looks like it has been waiting to jump..

and the raindrops are here... it's time for poetry... something seems beautifully right with the world!

kali ghata chaaye mora jiya ghabraye...
eise mein kahin koi mil jaye... haye...

thandi hawa kali ghata ...
aa hi gayi jhoomke..
pyar liye dole hansi nache jiya ghoomke...

rukti hai thamti hai... kabhi barasti hai
badal pe paaw rakhe baarish machalti hai...
na jane kyun dil bhar gaya..na jane kyun aankh bhar gayi...
chotisi kahani se, barishonke panise...

aaj aur kal...

april 19th - memorial service for minal panchal who died on april 16th in the crazy virginia tech shooting - candles, flowers, marigold - yellow and orange, memories, speeches, thesis, dreams, grades, ambitions, memories, smiles, fun times, orkut messages, sensitive, questions, memories, teachers, patient, cousins, friends, journalists, no curious onlookers, fun loving, promises, suggestions, gold medals, caring, awards, plans, dreams, dead father, concerned about poor children, photos, garlands, sad mother, sad sister, sad family, laidback but out of the box, empty halls, some chai, some more flowers, marigold - yellow and orange, , half bent broken burning candles burning a few flowers, marigold - yelow and orange... memories...


april 20th - abhishek and aishwarya are married - three months of drama, three days of melodrama, three hours of mayhem, chaos, shouting, dancing, fighting, singing, craning, squatting, hitting, getting hit...
decorated horse or mare who was feeling stuffy and hot, the decorations on the back that doubled up as its fan (as in pankha), decorated guests, not decorated fans, not decorated 700 security people, not decorated rather sweating like piggies journalists, food packets for media, also security personnel shooing them, gently putting them in the cage called media barricade, like u treat a mad kitten, feed her and push her into her place, gently, firmly...
cars, more cars, nice cars, volvos, big big, one after the other, bhangra, local band, tya tya pyan pyan, aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai, baraat, celebrities, fights, scrambles, gaalis, choicest of them, people, people, people, on the trees, on the barricades, on the hoardings and on the boards, on your head and mine, under your camera and mine, under police's lathi and in autos, people, people, people, for glimpses, wishes, blessings, people, police, people, journalists, people, fake shah rukh, fake salman, fake amitabh, people, media, lives, chats, lives, phonos, lives, exclusives, people, people...
and yes, haya alias naina alias janhavi kapoor attempting to suiciding arresting blabbering, more lives, more phonos, more exclusives, lucknow, jammu, mumbai, ma, dad, beta, foofi, dost... she was this and she was that... astrologers, pcychiatrists, pandits, counsellors, aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai...
more guests, more celebrities, more food packets, more fans, more blessings, more designer dresses, more fun, more happiness, more lights, more flowers marigold - yellow and orange, not burning this time...

but seriously, happy wedded life guys...

and now shall we start looking for something new to go crazy and hysterical about? let the flowers, marigold - yellow and orange, be?

kal aur aaj
Aale Ahmed Saroor

vo bhii kyaa log the aasaan thii raahe.n jin kii
band aa.Nkhe.n kiye ik simt chale jaate the
aql-o-dil Khvaab-o-haqiiqat kii na uljhan na Khalish
muKhtalif jalve nigaaho.n ko na bahalaate the
[Khalish=pain/prick; muKhtalif=different types]

ishq saadaa bhii thaa beKhud bhii junuu.N_peshaa bhii
husn ko apanii adaao.n pe hijaab aataa thaa
phuul khilate the to phuulo.n me.n nashaa hotaa thaa
raat Dhalatii thii to shiisho.n pe shabaab aataa thaa
[hijaab=coyness]

chaa.Ndanii kaif_asar ruuh_afzaa hotii thii
abr aataa thaa to bad_mast bhii ho jaate the din me.n
shorish bhii huaa karatii thii hangaame bhii
raat kii god me.n muu.Nh Dhaa.Np ke so jaate the
[kaif_asar=inducing intoxication; ruuh_afzaa=soul refreshing]
[abr=cloud; bad_mast=intoxicated; shorish=tumult]

ham ke tuufaano.n ke paale bhii sataaye bhii hai.n
barq-o-baaraa.N me.n vo hii shame.n jalaaye.n kaise
ye jo aatish_kadaa duniyaa me.n bha.Dak uTThaa hai
aa.Nsuo.n se use har baar bujhaaye.n kaise
[barq=lightning; baaraa.N=storm; aatish_kadaa=conflagration]

safar aasaan thaa to manzil bhii ba.Dii raushan thii
aaj kis darjaa pur_asaraar hai.n raahe.n apanii
kitanii parachhaa_iyaa.N aatii hai.n tajallii ban kar
kitane jalvo.n se ulajhatii hai.n nigaahe.n apanii
[darjaa=grade/level; pur_asaraar=full of secrets/intricate/complex]
[tajallii=bright light]

duaa - aaiiye haath uThaaye.n ham bhii

a week since 2007... lets see what we have got...

some psychopath killing, stuffing, hiding... children's skeletons, bones... parents greif, anguish, tears, howls...

some protests on SEZs... some more killings... some more challenges, appeals, reworkings, promises, debates...

some more disasters on cricket field and off it... some more dropped, alongwith many more trophies...

some more killed this very minute in iraq and some more appeals to stop the violence... somehow...

some more unlikely drops and gains in temperatures, welcome to a globally warmed world... some more drops and gains in share markets all over... welcome to globally "hot and cool" economies...

everything has happened before... and nothing is new... whatever happens to you and me, this way or that... would have already happened to a million before and will happen to a million later...

but i guess, we still got to make this time feel new and fresh like the nip in the air, like the christmas star and like this wave coming to kiss your toes...

happy new year, i guess...

Duaa aaiiye haath uThaaye.n ham bhii
Faiz Ahmed Faiz

aaiiye haath uThaaye.n ham bhii
ham jinhe.n rasm-e-dua yaad nahii.n
ham ji.nhe.n soz-e-mohabbat ke siwaa
koii but, koii Khudaa yaad nahii.n

aaiiye arz guzare.n ki nigaar-e-hastii
zahar-e-imaroz me.n shiiriinii-e-fardaa.N bhar de
wo ji.nhe.n tabe garaa.Nbaarii-e-ayyaam nahii.n
unakii palako.n pe shab-o-roz ko halkaa kar de

jinakii aa.Nkho.n ko ruKh-e-subh kaa yaaraa bhii nahii.n
unakii raato.n me.n koii shamaa munawwar kar de
jinake qadamo.n ko kisii rah kaa sahaaraa bhii nahii.n
unakii nazaro.n pe koii raah ujaagar kar de

jinakaa dii.n pairavii-e-kazbo-riyaa hai unako
himmat-e-kufr mile, jurat-e-tahaqiiq mile
jinake sar mu.ntazir-e-teG-e-jafaa hai.n unako
dast-e-qatil ko jhaTak dene kii taufiiq mile

ishq kaa sarr-e-nihaa.N jaan-tapaa.N hai jis se
aaj iqaraar kare.n aur tapish miT jaaye
harf-e-haq dil me.n KhaTakataa hai jo ka.NTe kii tarah
aaj izahaar kare.n or Khalish miT jaaye

14 August 1967