Today's mood

सानू सौदा नहीं पुखदा, सानू सौदा नहीं पुखदा...

रवि तो चेनाब पुछदा,

"की हाल है सतलुज दा?"

Saturday, August 13, 2011


Here I am caged by the iron bars of my window pane
The unfathomable bars with a tortured mind
Living in a world concealed in oblivion and gloom
Gazing the outside world with my startled eyes…

The turmoil outside making scary noises
The trees mocking at my solitude
The roof tops echoing in unison the void in my life
Yet my consciousness is oblivious to it…

Here I lay enslaved by my own misery
Afraid to be found out
Anticipating to be laughed at my weak heart
Having no disguise to hide my tears…

There comes the rain splattering down
Tip- toeing its way to meet its soul mate
Roaring its way, surpassing all the obstacles
Declaring it to be the master and not a slave…

I want to bathe in the very essence of its spirit
I want to feel its unruffled drops
To revive my freedom in its wake
All I want is a chance to live…

Friday, June 10, 2011

The sea beneath the island...

She shivers in the wind like a last leaf on the tree. The wind raises electric. She’s sweet, warm and looks exquisitely stunning in her crimson gown with her curves exposed slyly. He lets her hear his footsteps; he saunters forward and wraps his arms around her. His warm breath brushes past her curly locks to send shivers deep down her body. The air has awe in itself. He grabs her shoulder to a firm grip and suddenly shakes them violently. His mid night blue eyes flare with so much rage. His jaw clenches tight, he raises his fists and hits her so hard to knock her down to the ground. She could taste blood in her mouth. A perfect countenance was smeared by nasty bruises.
When life offers you a dream so far beyond any of your expectations; it’s not reasonable to regret when it comes to an end.
Abhay was a guy you could not but fall for. His mid night blue eyes set deep above the high planes of his cheekbones, russet coloured skin, jet black tousled disarray of spiky hair and tall-masculine physique made him stand out like an archangel amidst the vile human clan. Half the college population craved for him (the fairer sex) while the other half despised him out of envy. He didn’t have many friends in the college owing to his high profile repute except one who had accepted him with all his flaws; Shravani. Shravani, a teenage girl with brown curls marked by golden highlights, topaz coloured eyes and enticing curves; a stimuli to arouse the ogler in you. Abhay and Shravani were like two poles of magnet, never apart. Both of them seemed to cherish there out of the world friendship. They had created their own world; a world so perfect with no boundaries, no responsibilities and no one to be answerable to.
Everything seemed to fall in pieces until their life was jolted by a tornado named Priya. She joined the college in mid semester. She seemed like a beautiful angel descended from above with the innocence of a neonate in her obsidian eyes. She entered the college draped in a white salwar kameez. Her aura seemed to cast a spell on anyone and everyone. Even Abhay seemed to have fallen for this beautiful angel. He wanted to change himself for her, desired to make her a part of his yet so solitary life. He craved for spending more and more time with her. Time started rolling and the spark of love between Abhay and Priya started growing into a flare. Their closeness created a wedge between the friendship of Abhay and Shravani. Abhay still cared for their friendship but Shravani’s heart was jolted by a hurricane of emotions which were beyond her comprehension. Her friendship had taken the form of obsession and irrational craving. She held Priya responsible for stealing Abhay from her (as if he was her monopoly). Shravani did see the concern of Abhay for her but that seemed to not suffice her craving. There was a conflict between her irrational emotions and her valued friendship. Now the very same Abhay’s touch made her heart thud erratically. She had fallen in love with him and there was nothing she could do to deny it. Her love made her reason to let him have his happiness yet whenever she saw Abhay and Priya together her heart was overwhelmed with an unbearable ache. She had to do make a decision.
25 December; it was the prom night, the last day of the college. Abhay was still unaware of the feelings which Shravani had for him though Priya could sense the turmoil. She sympathized with Shravani and trusted her reasoning. But the vicious night had a plan of its own. The sight of Priya cuddled in the arms of her beloved aroused the flare of rage and envy in her. Seeing Abhay out of sight, overwhelmed by wrath, she started accusing Priya of having stolen her love from her. She referred her as a ‘perpetual parasite in their relationship’; a girl no more worth than a whore who enticed Abhay by her nasty yet alluring tactics. Priya could not contain such an insult in front of the huge gathering and she fled with tears streaming her eyes. On returning Abhay heard what had underwent in his absence. His jaws clenched tight and he went out to look for Shravani and make her repent for what she had done.
There she was standing still in her crimson gown contrasted by the sylvan surroundings and engrossing darkness. She shivered like a last leaf on the tree…
The only gift Shravani got from her futile love was nasty bruises smearing her face. Though she regretted insulting Priya in a fit of anger, she could not regret falling in love with Abhay. In the time being Priya too had come to stand besides Abhay in his most distressing moment of life. A distressing and piercing calm spread all over. The tranquil was disrupted by a gun shot. Pools of blood spilled over.
What could have happened in that iota of time? Who lost his life in the pangs of vicious, dark love? Could it be Priya who paid the price of having stolen Shravani’s most prized possession? Or would Shravani have killed Abhay so that if he couldn’t be hers, he could also not be someone else’s? Maybe Shravani thought of killing herself only to become insensitive to all the pain to lie in the womb of never lasting slumber and give her love the only thing she had- her life.
Can jealousy out rule a person’s rationalism to the extent of making him commit a murder? Or is it the ‘sublime love’ which reigns supreme?
I leave the answer to the readers to decide what that crucial moment might have brought with itself…

Friday, May 6, 2011

the chronicles of the Singh's on lane 42 (iii)

I think dad is going into depression. He has stopped going out and usually keeps himself alone. He spends late nights in office. His appetite has dropped to an alarmingly low level, dark eye bags and crow's feet have become more prominent; and the worst of all he has gone back to smoking.

I and my sister on the other hand have started to move forward. We won't deny the chasm left by her departure, but words of Strider on Gandalf's death, "we must do without hope" provides a lot of solace.

It has been two months since she died. Fight between me and my sister have restarted over the handling of the remote. My dad not so actively involved in the tiff has started to re-mingle with people. I and him had a fight a few days ago regarding the self-immolation path he was treading. after an exchange of a few heavy words all three of us were down on the floor crying. Since then, dad makes it a point not to stay late alone in the office. Most of these days he has dinner with us. Though i am sure he wont quit smoking again.

Me: "Dad, stop this smoking. It has caused the whole room to suffocate."

Enya, who has her hazel eyes similar to my mom's, would get up from her couch and in one swift motion would snatch the cigarette from his hands quite like the way my mom used to do.

Dad: "thanks."

Enya and dad both would smile at each other. Dad humming away would go to his room to sleep.

Thursday, May 5, 2011

the chronicles of the Singh's on lane 42 (ii)

My mom died last week and my father is devastated. He is not showing it, but i have seen him crying in his room. He doesn't wish me to see him broken down. His trials of brave front are as hollow as this house without her.

I miss her in lot many ways. Inadvertently after coming out of the bath a few days ago I shouted, "Mom, where are my clothes." Suddenly I recalled she wasn't there. My sister, Enya, came out running from her room, and both of us cried like 3 year old kids.

After a gap of fortnight dad went to work today. I went to drop him till his workplace. Suddenly old memories flashed back. There were days when mom and dad used to drop me to work and go for long drives. at times they used to go up to 300-400 kms and I had to hire a taxi back home.

God plays games, and few of them are brutal ones.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011

the chronicles of the Singh's on lane 42 (i)

Mr. Virender Singh fell in love with Geeta when he was in college. He used to bunk classes to smoke cigarettes, and she used to ignore him taking him to be a local goon. On the contrary Virender was mad and crazy and undoubtedly in love with her. They two later on became imprisoned in a social rite called marriage; and i am their son.

On one fine day, during their college days, when the sun was a bit lazy and decided to doze off when on duty, my dad went up to my mom and asked her out, "Would you go out with me?"

My mom had a charm around herself which at times attracted eve-teasers. She had made it a point to learn karate ever since her kindergarten days. If my dad had moved an inch forward, I am sure his balls would have been giant footballs and my birth an aborted mission.

She replied, "aren't you the smoker across the gate?"

"a question for a question? yes, I smoke and the future of the pack in my pocket depends upon your answer."

"You are either going to smoke it indifferent of my answer. Take a breath; go finish your pack."

That is how they met; and how they fell in love is a mystery to me. No matter how much i coax them they refuse to bat an eyelid. They say, "we are saving it for our grandchildren. ask us no questions, we will tell you no lies."

(i hereby promise to make an effort to be regular. :P)

Tuesday, April 12, 2011


The tenebrous night descends
Along with its encroaching darkness,
Hanging out like a canopy.
Mystery and death silence are its two escorts...

It glares into my eyes with all its awe and might,
Beckoning me to embrace it…
It intends on stealing away my only soulmate
I feel like condemning it of being so callous,
I feel like despising it of being a mugger,
Yet again I fail; yet again I’m helpless…

Undulating between the desire to be possessed and the fear to be enslaved,
Scared by the vicious veil of night,
Robbed off my better half,
There I lay yet again, all alone…

The yearn to be embraced by my only admirer,
The desire to feel its touch,
These unstrung melodies yet again harp my senses.
But there I see the triumphant night,
The ache of being abandoned strikes yet again…

Meekly I decide to surrender to the master
But there I see my savior
Adorned in a blend of cerise and azure,
Approaching me with a gleam of hope
Rejuvenating the promise of reuniting me with my soulmate…