Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Remembering you

Whenever a thought lasts 
longer than it should 
I am reminded of things that you gave me 
time , pieces , glass and a letter with a heart . 
Or maybe without a heart .

Nothing has been a stronger memory 
than the last time I saw your smiling face . 

It was a good bye smile though. 

I want you to know ,
that day good bye pained less 

only because , you smiled .

Sunday, August 28, 2011

Edible colours

A coloured appetite
In form of things worn and torn
Shoe , ink , butter , eyes
A love to which we all are blind

Edible colours made my God
Eaten by sight in every form
Be the cherry red of valentine
Or silent black of dreamy eyes

Colours incomplete , complete 
Colours that sanity needs.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Its another wish after all

It's a ritual that my blog has a post on the day of my birthday . Unlike the last year , I am now  bearable . An year makes you a better person ( I mean it should ) .
I have a lot of people to thank . A birthday right after college seemed so awkward.
Unexpectedly , my friends poured in such sweet messages for me , I miss them a lot.
Thank you so much for making my day special.
I realized that there are some qualities which make each one of us special , and like they say "18 till you die" likewise you must stay the same lovable person till you die.
Here , in my city , its raining right now. Seems like a refreshing start of the 23rd year :)
Its good to be remembered!
I wish the toils test the best of me , my spirit sticks to my intentions and my heart and mind hook on the same thing .
I wish every birthday goes like this one ! One more wish made , and God might label me super greedy ! :D

Thank you !
Saki :)

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Love Blinks

Love like a cold war
Engages people in ego
After it has gained years

Love like his eyes
Is the silence in everything
That he ceases to say, but feels

Love like the blink of an eye
Is never anticipated
Ironically, involuntary and voluntary 

Love like a stubborn perception
Fits in mind and soul both
And urges to be called only love

Even with insanity , even with sanity 

Saturday, August 20, 2011


The pain
Lurks in solitude
Tinges in happy times
Reminds you of something
You have been waiting to forget
But pain, unlike memories
never fades .
It grows stubborn 
And people get used to its presence
I no longer consider you uncalled for , my pain
I am now , comfortable in your discomforts .

Thursday, August 18, 2011

A hello is all I mean

The void ends. I wrote a poem and deleted , Then again wrote and sent it to "A" . "A" is a dear friend and reads all of them. This time though "A" did not respond. 
You wonder if "A" is a male or female ? As long as it has a heart and listens me like my mirror listens to me, I don't think it matters. In the thick of thoughts , I wanted to scribble something today but could not come up with "the thing" that would fill up the void here in heart . *Puff* to heavy a heart for a body , paper and pen only seems to help, and since we belong to the 21st century , I chose blogging . So cool so far !
The hitch was that I wanted something to take me like duck to water . Like trade of a human with a thought . Something worth the value . Then I came across a slant , thanks to Ritika Shandilya . I talk to her after so many months and she makes my day ! (as always) 

Ritika has now made it twice to my blog. Both the times she helped me get rid of the void and gave me something to write on . I feel obliged :)
S loves you :)
So "A" is not Ritika. "A" is "A". 
I ditched to wait for "A"s response. 
What filled the void was -
Quoted -
"Why can't we get all the people together in the world that we really like and then just stay together? I guess that wouldn't work. Someone would leave. Someone always leaves. Then we would have to say good-bye. I hate good-byes. I know what I need. I need more hellos!" ;)

I miss warm hellos . You do too ? A warm hello to you from me :)
So much inhibitions we have imposed upon ourselves that we seldom feel like passing a warm hello . Smiles are a formality . If only you remember , a hello could make a day. Why not tell random people that you care a little ? Oh you would say that you are oh-so-corporate and you keep professional and personal lives separate . Of all the roles that you play my dear, like corporate and professional , do you play human too  ? 

I have seen a lot of humans  say hello. I have also seen corporate people say good morning and lalalala. But it did not have the sunshine of the morning. Why such a void ?
Incredulous , we all are. Then why is shrewdness encrusted ?
Snake skinned humans ? Creepy !

I thought of a lot of people today. Sent them my hellos and apologies for disappearing for a while .

Fact is that the world is round and you can stumble upon any possible stranger  again. So why not say them a hello every time you see them.

They will remember you by - the "X" with a winsome smile.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

The newspaper

When I arrived I was panting . Drenched in sweat , the only thing on my mind was to breathe . I stopped for a while before I started another round of my jog. After a few minutes of exercising more I left for home. The next thing in a perfect morning that I wanted to have was a newspaper . A newspaper this time instead of the novel that I was reading. With riots , recession, rupee and the hope of congress getting into action , it becomes routine to arrest a hope yet another day by the reality in my newspaper . Someday the paper might inform me to bid this world goodbye and I will eventually do as it says. I will wait till it gives me hope, another day maybe. Like a parliament session delayed or talks held between my life and death . The talks might turn into a dispute and I could end up in a hospital. But then the irony is, I will still be looking for hope in my paper. Signs that are vital in life - hope , despair , love and envy . Usually decisive and provoking . My hand stretched to hold my wet newspaper. Wet of the pacifying rains. I thought its not a good idea to curse the rains in a desert land , and hence, I chose the adjective pacifying ( though I wanted to curse them for spilling water over my hopes  - my newspaper ) . 
I made tea for myself and approached the balcony of my room. Took the chair and placed the newspaper on the table . Staring it and wishing for a gush of wind to dry the water and revive my damp hopes. Hopes that now lay smudged on the table, waiting to be rinsed. The irony is that water here won't help and what will, is nothing. The tea was discomforting. Biscuits could have helped the others with their tea, but in my case , it was habitual of the rupee, recession and controversies.. I left it after a sip or two. It did not give me a fresh start . Without a worthy newspaper, it didn't feel like a morning. It was dank , I confessed to my paper. For only it could understand my agony towards rain. For the benefit of this desert , I chose to move on with my discomforts. Keeping the curses aside in the hope that the next time it pours , it leaves my paper. Hoping for no more delays in my hope the next time .

Friday, August 5, 2011

Lonely ?

I hate dogs . More than I hate eve teasers . I almost freeze when a dog approaches me. I get shivers by the thought that the dog might bite me then and there or I might have to run a mile for my life .

Around 10 am in the morning is a time for both men , women and dogs (sometimes pigs too, but I am not scared of pigs ) . The hustle-bustle of the city confuses dogs during early office hours . They might feel a part of this race to approach things not done and dreams not met (assuming they have psychological instincts like we humans) . But fear of dogs doesn't stop us from moving . Hence quoting this to myself , I pep up to risk a day with a dog chasing me.

They are not that wild though. But their presence counts. Like the presence of every creature counts. This I realized a few days ago.

The story goes like this
Our locality is haven for a beggar . I assume he likes the people of our colony . Most of them true punjabi's by instinct, give him a lot of food to manage at least two meals a day.

The place where he sits and has his food is visible from my room's window and quite often during lunch hours I notice him  sitting there and talking to himself .
I very easily assumed him to be mentally sick and asked my family to stay away.

Once , I was going somewhere by foot and saw him there at his usual place , blabbering something on his own . Just then , I saw him throwing a bit of his chapati behind . How could he even think of wasting the food thats given to him to save him from starving day and night? As I approached near , I saw he was feeding a crow . And talking to him about the lady who gave him food that day .
Stopped . Smiled . Thought .
And we say we feel lonely sometimes ?
There are times when you cannot reach through people . Take some time off from them . Its better to have people in life at least. They will come soon . Where else will they go ?
I no longer feel awkward when the dog follows me. I assume that he doesn't want me to feel lonely :P

Happy Friendship Day !

Wednesday, August 3, 2011


Something scarlet
The flower that lies in her hands
The red of his love
The playful orange of his mind
Scarlet like , he always dreams of her

Something scarlet
The blood that rushes in her veins
The red of her anger
The calm orange of her soul
Scarlet like it represents her

Something scarlet
The dupatta the indian lady
veils her head with
The red of her marriage
The orange of her purity
Scarlet like something vital in her life

Something scarlet
The flame that lights up
Multi-faced , bold or brazen
Dim in the absence of someone
The red of her agony
The orange of her smile
Scarlet , like forever , the colour of a woman .

Monday, August 1, 2011


Often while traveling with a camera we arrive just as the sun slips over the horizon of a moment, too late to expose film, only time enough to expose our hearts. ~Minor White

Its a different world
Inside and outside this wall
And whenever I sneak out
It leaves me seeking self
I am left thinking about
What I am on each side of this wall 
Same or different ?
Real or unreal ?
Myself or not ?

Living or not ?