Zindagi Kya Rang Dikhati Hai...

Dil ke kone me bichhi khaali jagah, 

reng reng kar badhti jaati hai,

Haste hue chehre ke peechhe,

dard ki lakeer nazar aati hai

Chup sa lagaata hua mann,

aahaton se baukhla uthta hai,

Bechain aankhon se bewajah,

aansu ki dhara behti jaati hai,

E Zindagi tu kya rang dikhati hai!

Karva Chauth: The truth and lies of it

Of decked up brides, Overenthusiastic husbands,
Of sweaty sweetmeat sellers, tired beauticians,
Of busy henna artists, curious bangle sellers,
Of fasting till evening, feasting in the moonlight,
Of vows remembered again, blessings sought and given,
Of abuses forgotten, injuries gotten numb,
Of rituals and the belief in their sanctity,
Of hollowness surrounding the whole ceremony,
Oh yes! the decked up brides and the promising husbands...

Bottled Existence

My heart is elated beyond expectations, 

My feet refuse to touch the ground, 

Mind has assumed wings and is bound to cross the boundaries of permitted happiness,

Ah, the fleeting moments of heightened emotions and joy,

Oh Ecstasy, Why thou do not last for ever, 

Clouds of despair make their moves to blacken the mood when it was high in spirit,

and suddenly the heart sinks to its lowest possible depth, 

When all seems dark, essence is doubtful, I think of existence as futile,

From nowhere comes a ray of hope, showing me the yet not trodden path,

Teaching me to believe in self, it showers optimism around,

giving me the strength of faith, it makes me venture out on a new journey of life.

When we search for happiness in life, we forget there is happiness after pain too,

we celebrate the outcome, the process is always forgotten,

In seeking pleasure, we overlook the harmony between pain and leisure,

Stored in the heart, each emotion provide a distinct smell and taste to life

thus drunk with emotions in varied proportions, 

we all have a bottled existence,

 

Emptiness

Clutching the bag tightly closer to her heart,
She imagines herself to be standing naked in the yellow light of the street lamps.
The river shimmers with the necklace that surrounds it,
Body shivers with the cold creeping in.

Silently admiring the newness of the newly built flyovers,
Her heart searches for the old cobwebs hidden in the corners of the mind.

She tries to concentrate on the questions of the auto driver,
But behold! Has she gone deaf? Has she gone dumb? Why doesn't she respond to the queries of the driver?

Tonight can she write the saddest lines?
Tonight has she made up her mind? 
Tonight her eyes have turned stony.
Tonight she looks over the iron fence to understand the river.

In her hollow anger, in her loud dumbness, she instructs the driver.
In her silent protestations, she tells her mind to go numb.

Gently moving her fluttering hair behind her ears,
She preens out of the auto to check her destination,
and tells herself, "Oh Heart! Heart! Cry not thou! There is a better place for this emptiness!"
She needs to move on! No! No! She needs to move out!

Checking the yellow glowing street lamp again,
She knows all is well. Hence reassured.
Moving swiftly, she gets lost with the chaos. Again.

Realistic Diary of an Ordinary Girl.

On a warm Sunday morning, Mahua wakes up lazily, her hair still messy, as her mother calls out to her. Not that she was obedient or used to responding to her parents immediately, but that particular morning, Mahua could sense a sense of urgency in her mother's voice. She runs downstairs with hazy eyes, anticipating what might have befallen. Oh no! its the same concern again. She is required to change her time of birth once again so that her astronomical fate runs in sync with the boy's whom her parents are considering as an alliance for their daughter. And Why not! Computer can do anything, make two completely incompatible persons appear to be made for each other! She makes the changes in her biodata as directed by her parents as quickly and with as much disinterest as possible. Come on! its Sunday morning. Full of promises and pleasures. She needs to get her eyebrows trimmed, she needs to arrange the bookshelves, she needs to evaluate answer sheets of her students. and there is that bundle of leisure lying there...Sunday's newspaper. She must prepare her tea and sit down to read it, before anybody else grabs it.
While making her to do list, Mahua thinks of recording her experiences in a diary. Where does she get the idea from? Well, she has just read a cover story on Candace Bushnell, the author of the column Sex and the City and she has read an interview of Moni Mohsin, what an inspiration indeed! While she tries to work it out in her mind as to how to go about writing it, she switches on her laptop and starts typing on her blog. In the middle of the writing, she hears another urgent call from mother. As she rushes downstairs, she meets with an unexpected news. The housemaid is not coming today! A dash of disappointment on a warm Sunday morning! Now, she needs to rewrite her to-do list. Enough of writing, she says, and picks up the duster to dust the doors to turn herself into a Dusterella soon!