on a beach...

i trace my thought laden finger across the sands...

etching a rhyme deep within myself...

knowing that in moments,
the waves shall wash these words away...

and yet content knowing that this song shall never fade...

no offence to the mahatma..

i was an ardent believer in the doctrine of non-violence...


and then one day i traveled by a mumbai local train...

i wonder which part of waiting is the most difficult.... 

the part where you wait for 'somebody' yet to arrive.... 

or the part where 'somebody' departs after meeting you and you wait until they walk away.... 

until the last speck disappears.... 

यूँ तोह आदत ही थी...

की वोह हमारी महफिल अक्सर आधे मैं छोड़ जाते...

पर आज दर्द इस बात का हुआ के...

उन्हें रोकने का हक शायद हमारा न रहा... ।

tribute to mr karkare, mr salaskar, mr kaamte n others who died doing their duty..

i do not know what game this is...

the black pawns are killing the white knights...

never has this game been evenly poised...

the black squares seem more than the white ones...

but do not worry oh queens now not on the board...

the white pawns shall reach one day into the heart of the dark lair...

new queens shall take birth...

for each white pawn still secretly believes...

that it is the white king who must always win..

it is the white king who must always win...

the world indeed sets store by some weird rules....

it calls those who deliberate on the abstracts as wise whereas it it considers those who debate on them as fools.... 

a conversation with a wise man...

wise man: if you have the power to do good, do you feel compelled to do that good? 

me: yes; most of the times... 

wise man : then do YOU have the power or does the power have YOU...?? 

me: if you are standing in a stream of flowing water... u bend down cup your hands and take a handful water in it... 

do YOU have the water... or does the water have you...?? 

where do i hide this guilt of mine..

where do i bury this shame...

pauperized i feel in spite of my pelf...

oh, how do i quell this "otherness" of my self??

isn't it ironic that many times in life... the moment we encounter situations that are really worth talking about... we find ourselves speechless???

the dewdrops on the blades of grass in my garden are nothing but tears of the languishing night....

" sometimes you lose more in a minute than you could ever lose in a lifetime...... "

journey....

i watch my city run past me....


i know i am moving forward....


and yet i know deep within me,


i am leaving myself far behind.......

boredom

the sun rises
the sun sets
a new sunlight cradles
in the dark silent womb of the night.

days pass by....


the moon waxes
the moon wanes
a pattern observed through window panes
two fortnights is all it takes.

months pass by...


summer burns
monsoon bleeds
winter crystallizes in its own frigid self
each season gives birth to another.


and years pass by...

often, life stops to take a few breaths

to escape the suffocation of a thousand deaths...

क्या मिसाल दू मैं तुम्हे उस तूफ़ान की ,

जिसके नाम से ही बस मेरा सारा गाव बिखर जाता है.....

the river of life

The river of life seeks the ocean again
Life is but a matrix of loss and gain

Few moments of joy few moments of pain
Just like day then night then sunrise again

One knows not really how much one has lived
How much he has enjoyed how much grieved

But where the river meets the oceans shore
A question is asked of its days of yore

It matters not how long you have lived
What matters is the manner you have lived

What actually counts when it all ends
Is how true you have been to your friends

Love for truth and truthful love is what ultimately matters
When the river pours itself in the ocean's waters

its a good day to begin hunting for the moon again.....