The pursuit of happiness is a chase for a lifetime..

May 23, 2014

Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai...!





Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai

Wo milke tujhse sham ko ghar lautna
Wo raston ko yun dekhna, ki jaise mujhe muskura kar ched rahe hon
Wo raste wo safar mujhe bada yaad aata hai. Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.

 
Wo karvat tutne par tera khayal aana, wo uth kar tehlte hue tujhe sochna,
fir beith ke sirhane par tera naam likhna, jaise tu mere saath ho
Wo tooti needen wo raatein mujhe bada yaad aata hai. Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.
 
 
Wo palat ke aaine ko dekhna, wo phele kaajal ko theek karna
Aur hawa se bikhre baalon ko sambhal ke, tere aane ki rah dekhna
Wo intzaar wo khumaar mujhe bada yaad aata hai. Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.

 
Wo kareeb aa ke bethna tera , wo zamane ki har kashmakash se pare teri baatein
jaise bas baki sab be-mayene ho, wo mubahisa aur wo sawal mere,
Wo junoon wo sukoon mujhe bada yaad aata hai. Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.       

 
Fir ek din guzar jaane diya meine us kal ko. Mere haathon ki ek laqeer dhul si gayi thi jaise.
Nishan the ab bhi baki kuch. Kismat na bana sakne wale…bas nishan.
Lekin wo guzra pal mujhe bada yaad aata hai. Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.
 
Wo kal mujhe bada yaad aata hai.
 

[Be-mayne - Meaningless, Mubahisa - Points, Discussion]
 
posted by Rashi at 4:07 AM 3 comments

May 9, 2014

 
 
 
 
It’s not a wound, no, it’s not! It does not pain anymore; neither do the nerves ache…Nerves that run beneath that skin. The skin has creased somewhat from there, yeah. And then, thinking of it does not give tears, it gives a smile. No, it’s not a wound…Anymore
It has been some time now, a few years… sometimes it weeps, though… when it rains, or may be seeing the sun set…perhaps. It has no words left to be said to anyone, it pretends to be content.
Such pretentiousness, that lies so loudly!
But wounds are so open, self exhibiting. So…no it’s not a wound.
 
It doesn’t like the touch of a flower, now. And the dew drop stays there for a while before slipping. The creasy skin was smooth once… though, it doesn’t bleed now. No, it’s not a wound.
Velvet clothes cover it and it breathes under them… sighs, mourns and smiles under there…it doesn’t breathe the air.  But the perfume on them is good… So, no, it’s not a wound!
And then, on those rare times, when she uncovers it, she softly kisses it, caresses it and covers it back quickly…is it precious like some memory!? She should let it heal then and time shall take care of the rest…but she says it’s not a wound… ‘Cause it does not pain; neither do the nerves ache.
So! No, it’s not a wound…!
It shall never pain.
                                                                                                             
posted by Rashi at 1:34 PM 1 comments