Dil mein koi sui si chubhi aaj, meri aankh bhar aayi hain,

Karwat lekar dekha maine, meri dost sirf tanhai hain……….

Arzoo hoti nahi muqammal, meri iss jahan mein,

Der se hi sahi ye baat, mujhe aaj samjh mein aayi hain

Karwat lekar dekha maine, meri dost sirf tanhai hain……….

Milte gaye qaffile, har mod, dost bante gaye.

Fir kyu Aftaab hokar bhi, humne andhero mein jagah paayi hain.

Maana hummein reh-shumari ki khubiyaan nahi,

Humne to rooh-e-pak main saari umar gavai hain,

Karwat lekar dekha maine, meri dost sirf tanhai hain……….

Sooraj k saamne hum, kuch feeke pad gaye lekin,

Alfazo se apne humne bhi, kai baar aag lagai hain,

Dua-e-walida karti thi roshan taqdeer meri,

Apne hi haathon humne, wo jane kahan gumai hain.

Karwat lekar dekha maine, meri dost sirf tanhai hain





She is probably the best song writer of our age. Oh I love you, ADELE so much. You are as beautiful as a reverie.


Quotes by Adele:

“I don’t make music for eyes. I make music for ears.”

“The focus on my appearance has really surprised me. I’ve always been a size 14 to 16, I don’t care about clothes, I’d rather spend my money on cigarettes and booze.”

“Sometimes it lasts in love, But sometimes it hurts instead.”

“I have insecurities, of course, but I don’t hang out with anyone who points them out to me.”


GREW (2)

Sometimes I try to dart away from the ductility of time and restraining juxtapose.

How do I try?

I usually take long drives, alone through roads, mostly reticent, begetting the unifying peace and bliss. A drive that is imperative and subtle but immensely cathartic.

I had one yesterday, down a quite path with my favorite music to nurture me. For those who have this comfort, it’s like a silent exclamation in an unusual Narnia. Whenever I do it, I am moreover enveloped in silence, so profound that I’ll take the liberty of calling it sublime. It is one of those things where I can be me, where I can vacate all my inhibitions, all of my perplexity, all of my filth; ponder on almost everything and nothing.

And then I slowed down to gaze abstractly at the stars, wonder at the fortitude of the leaves on a tree, listen to the ambitions of the mighty wind, just to hold up onto something. There shall be no sound but my breath and the flirting breeze.  So that I can be there for ages, only the chirping birds are allowed to shatter this silence, everything else shall be profane. It’s a strange sort of high, not viable to everyone. It is here where I can dissipate my unwanted energy, the awful downers, and the ones I don’t really want to think. Normally it takes longer to get myself into a positive mood, as sometimes I feel like I have a bizarre, mild form of manic depression. Sometimes I’m optimistic and driven, and at other times the apathy is overwhelming. And I am aware; as I always am that I cannot always step into a physical Narnia to escape negativism. But it helps, during times like this when I find myself slowly, but surely, gravitating towards an optimistic mood. It helps me to realize

“You’ll never find a rainbow if you’re looking down”- Charlie Chaplin

…Love has no ending…



I‘ll love you, dear, I’ll love you

   Till China and Africa meet,

And the river jumps over the mountain

   And the salmon sing in the street,

‘I’ll love you till the ocean

   Is folded and hung up to dry

And the seven stars go squawking

   Like geese about the sky.

‘The years shall run like rabbits,

   For in my arms I hold

The Flower of the Ages,

   And the first love of the world.’

But all the clocks in the city

   Began to whirr and chime:

‘O let not Time deceive you,

   You cannot conquer Time.

‘In the burrows of the Nightmare

   Where Justice naked is,

Time watches from the shadow

  And coughs when you would kiss



Every time I close my eyes
It’s like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
I’m scared that you
Won’t be waiting on the other side
Every time I close my eyes
It’s like a dark paradise
No one compares to you
But there’s no you,
Except in my dreams tonight

There’s no relief,
I see you in my sleep
And everybody’s rushing me,
But I can feel you touching me
There’s no release,
I feel you in my dreams
Telling me I’m fine

P.S. excerpts from Lana del rey’s ‘darkparadise’



   I get drown in me

In the lusty breeze of sea

in dilemma of an untamed mind

whenever I seek precision

In bewilderment of my identity

lynching in the crises of life

heading nowhere but in oblivion

I get drown in me

In thrust of this unkempt world

In its lies and squabble

Recluse and babble

when people suck me dry

and I hold nothing to offer

then I lay spent under the night sky

to let the stars induce in torrential

I get drown in me

when I witness the hex of a setting sun

its yellow, its orange, its red

swallowing my hideous dark demons

and spitting out a soul unchurned

I get drown in me

when I remember those eyes

those brown celestial ones

that once confessed love, pure and proper

but mugged me and left undone

I get drown in me

When I decide to rush

to the cosmos, in its lacuna

searching a portal that

embrace me with my frothy matter

bestowing some rustic peace

somewhere I really belong!


It’s not always that I intend to be a poet or a writer or an artist or a guitarist or a sportsperson or something exceptional, I just want to do things that are categorically positive, almost everything, and that is what makes me surgical. That’s why may be I dwell between cynicism and realism all the time, quarrel in my own mind, in my own tusk, lunge between what I want to do and what I think, and that makes me critical.

I consider myself to be partly materialistic and the other part abhors the materialistic side of me coz it demands too much. I almost every day meet people who shags on materialism, the propriety of society and its flavors and almost every day don’t get them, but still have a sense of respect for them coz atleast they are not baffled personalities and know what they want from life, no matter it may eventually be redundant, but still is acceptable. They feel pleasure in discs, at parties, at museum, movies, eating etc. and I too feel the same, but then that pleasure is not absolute, coz may be that ‘absolute’ pleasure exist only in love or don’t exist at all.

And then I pause, stalk my thoughts a bit, wave the poetic and un-poetic versions of me and pray, God bless us, bless us all. May there be love for everyone and then there will be clarity.

P.s. Hopefully I had made some brains, because if I didn’t its deterrent many a times I don’t.



Aksar dil mera mujhse sawal poochta hai

Mutmayeen hone ko tu kya dhoondta hai

Peshaani par ye silwatein yuhi ubhar aati hai

Ya khaanabadosh zindagi ka tu asraar dhoondta hai

Aasaan nahi chalna yahan sard raahon par zindagi ki

Be-takalluf ye dil mera har baar bolta hai

Kuch khwaahisho ka aasma hum saath le chale hai

Umeedo se bhara saara jahaa bolta hai

Aksar dil mera mujhse sawal poochta hai

Mutmayeen hone ko tu kya dhoondta hai

Dil ki khamoshiya aankho mai bhar aati hai

Ya kuch adhure gumshuda jazbaat dhoondta hai

 Aasaan nahi yahan rasmo – riwayat mohabbat ki

Guzarta har lamba baar baar bolta hai

Kuch kafir hasratein hoton par ja baithi hai

Umeedo se bhara saara jahaa bolta hai

Aksar dil mera mujhse sawal poochta hai

Mutmayeen hone ko tu kya dhoondta hai

  Tanhai se joojhti majbooriya jo kaii hai

Yaadon mai simti muskurahat dhoondta hai

          Dhund ko odhkar jo vadiya jhaankti hai

Unhi saaye mai naya basera dhoondta hai

Fakat ab zindagi ek juda tishnagi hai

Umeedo se bhara saara jahaa bolta hai


If we listened to our intellect, we’d never have a love affair. We’d never have a friendship. We’d never go into business, because we’d be cynical. Well, that’s nonsense. You’ve got to jump off cliffs all the time and build your wings on the way down.



Since the past 15 minutes I was looking for a taxi, profusely with no success. And the weather seemed to be guiding towards a thundershower. I reckon this city has two seasons here: rainy season and non-rainy season. Yes, this is Bombay (Mumbai being its new chant, but I have always liked its primitive name Bombay) city of dreams to some and financial capital to others. It was my second jaunt to this city, and apart from its humid climate and octane traffic, this city is mesmerizing. Bombay amazes me in various facets, right from the morning jogs to the late night toddle of marine drive, the humongous buildings to the petite roadside tea stalls, from architecture to night life, from most billionaires in my country to the largest slum; this city has accommodated all. There is something this city has to offer than the others. I don’t wonder why it is hugely populated.

Anyways, I eventually succeed in the 16th minute and finally made a move. I was to reach ‘Worli’ from ‘Santa Cruz’ to meet an old friend over a movie, a friend I would be meeting after a long time. I picked up a couple of caramel chocolates for her, partially for the sake of her love towards them and partially for running behind schedule. She had always been nagging over my careless and laid back attitude, and that array of mine hasn’t changed yet.

Well, it started drizzling and the roads were getting damp as I witnessed from the panes of the cab, the city looked beautiful in rain. Suddenly my comb was hurled by a red light, and as it happens so often in Bombay I too got stuck in traffic. For a moment I thought I should have bought a couple of chocolates more. I dropped the window panes to get a view of the scenario, when a Volkswagen arrived beside my medium. I noticed a brown haired pretty young girl, with bright jovial eyes sitting in the back seat of it. She seemed happy and cheerful may be due to rain and what can get more beautiful than a happy girl, yes she was beautiful.  She was holding a pug as anyone would hold their most blessed possession. She stretched her hand out to accumulate some pouch of drops and then sprinkled it on her dog; and a smile crept across my face. I have always been a ‘dog’ man, and admired humans relating with pets.  It was then, in between my half baked reflections I remember a poor boy came up to her door, in a semi nude state and sunken ill face, it was palpable he asked for something to eat. He seemed hungry standing bare footed in front of her, drenching in rain. I was observing his gestures to beg food; suddenly he was pushed as soon as he made an effort to touch that prized possession. Yeah he totally deserved it, how can a trodden slum boy touch a ‘Volkswagen dog’? No matter what if he did it for affection or for curiosity! He just can’t, he don’t deserve to, no matter he may also be human, but dearth the value of being one. The window glass went up and once jovial eyes now conveyed only disgust. He turned towards me and looked with no point of expectation, and with void black eyes. The clogged traffic took off, and in that nick of time I could only manage to offer those caramel chocolates to him, which he accepted readily. All that was left with me was a feeling of sorry him, and even more wretch for that girl, with brown hair and bright eyes who looked pretty but didn’t stayed beautiful to me anymore.

How could one be without benevolence?