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In the eyes of the beholder

They are strange droplets of water, or could I say magical? They are like mirage in the dry desert of life. Well, they might not necessarily quench your thirst but they give you hope and the strength to carry on. But they are magical also because they appear at other times too, when you do not necessarily expect them to be there. Any overwhelming emotion, happiness, surprise, delight, fear, love…absolutely anything in excess could ring an alarm and call for them. They are always at your disposal. Believe me, they are! You just have to knock your forehead, check the exact location of this inexhaustible well and there you go! Women are believed to have an easier access to them than men. Some even go to the extent of saying that they are a woman’s best weapon. Well, I really do not know how far it is true, but I really do not mind if it is! It is indeed a good feeling to go to bed with your head resting on a wet pillow. That makes me think about 2 things: they are a great sedative and have several advantages: they do not need a prescription, they come for free and it is an absolutely discreet and personal affair. Second thing, if they were specifically a woman’s property, thank God there is no menopause for them! Wow!! Tears are so many things and we thought they were just another salty excretion of the body?


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The 20 lakh package

In the corner of a room Clustered only with a
rusty stove And an old bed, A tattered book he read to his sister Trying to put her to bed.
The day had been long He had to cook with Baba And clean and dust, The woman of the house Had lads she could trust
At night Baba watched over the neighborhood And him, over their humble abode For his earnest parents This was his gentle ode
Finally came home Mommy Who was playing nanny To another little angel Whose parents took turns too Earning their hefty packages


कविता लिखना किसी इंसान के बस की बात नहीं है
कविता ख़ुद ही अपने आप को लिखती है
इक ज़रिया है बस हम तो
कविता ख़ुद ही ख़ुद को आईना में दिखती है

यह ख़ुद अपनी ज़ुबां चुनती है
लफ्ज़ अपने ख़ुद ही ढूँढ़ती है
कोशिश कर लेना तुम कभी
झूठ लिखते ही ये टूटती है

देर रात यह सपने में आती
मन के दरवाज़े पर दस्तक देती
लिफ़ाफ़े में बंद चिट्ठी में
अपने आप को तुम्हें दे जाती
लिखावट काग़ज़ पर तुम्हारी है बेशक़
पर कलम में सियाही तो वो ही भर जाती

कभी यूँ ही शाम को मिलने आती
खिड़की के पास बैठ चाय की चुस्कियाँ लगाती
रोम रोम में इक महक सी भर जाती है
दिल की धड़कनें कानों तक गूँज जाती है
बाहर की खिड़की खोलते खोलते
यह रूह के दरवाज़े खोल जाती है

एक बार कविता हर किसी को छूने आती है
जब टुटा हो दिल प्यार में, तो यह कुछ ज़्यादा जी लुभाती है
जब हाथ बढ़ाए तुम्हारी ओर, झट से थाम लेना, साहीर
यह बार बार गले नहीं लगती है।

Silly Me!

Be proud
Of what you are Weird, you may be Even funny, so it be But that's what you are!
Be proud Of the whacky gest That makes you YOU Because even under layers of makeup It will still find you.
Be proud Of that habit of yours that bugs others But that defines you as YOU Others' opinion is not your problem Unless you let it confine you.
Be proud Of the stupid poems you write That give you a high Celebrate YOU, for models, Take Luna Lovegood and Rosesh Sarabhai.