Friday, 3 November 2017

The Truth

Dragging oneself ahead, only because dragging backwards would be difficult and funny, doesn’t complete you.

Following an invisible lazy path in a directionless haste, refusing to change also won’t complete you.

With a quintal of clarity in mind and a certain blind belief when you finally try to pull the rusty chains of action they break. However mild, an action will lead to a reaction and so the wheel will turn.

Kill the illusion of faraway future that you nurture daily, tear that plastic hexagonal dream, burn that paper palace lying crumpled in a drawer and stand up to face the truth that you were born with. It’s nothing but you. You’re the truth.

Friday, 27 October 2017


After my failed attempt to balance, I realised I am missing an ingredient. It’s forgotten, it’s forbidden, it’s evil. Closed in a trunk and locked and chained, thrown down in a deep dark hole. Maybe that’s why it screeches and hurts when it reaches the surface.

Do I also need to be blindfolded before I balance? Not seeing means not feeling? Are both the forces ruthless in essence? Should we maintain silence to listen?

Probably yes.

My means aren’t in fashion, but are prudent. The act has begun, I can see the missing ingredient now. So I attempt again to balance.

Tuesday, 24 October 2017


“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” – Simone Weil

Stone steps lead up to a place I am yet to see. Dealing with the quietness interrupted intermittently by sweet songs of the birds, I continue ahead. My mind usher some unwanted thoughts and force me to dwell on and on and on, until I refuse, pause and take a deep breath. Don’t inquire for I don’t know why I am smiling, but I am and it has opened the collection of happy memories. Beaming face feels like being in an ocean of flowers. I start knitting happy thoughts with the golden thread of dreams and everything seems possible, the world is mine. A castle is constructed, my reign flourishes in seconds and in seconds I see my downfall. When I gather the broken pieces and stand up, I see the stone steps staring at me. No dialogues are exchanged, and I continue ahead.

When I wake up, I don’t think much of this dream. I am already late to rush into my monotonous routine. The running time never bargains while I always find a reason to bargain, but I haven’t cracked a deal even once.

The whole day I critique myself, like a ritual, except when the dream hushes me-the-perfect and me-the-kind takes over.

Wednesday, 11 October 2017

Crane on Turtle Candlestick Holder

Our blacksmith picked up the mould and studied it. His expressions were not discernible, but the sweat on his forehead highlighted his precision as he poured the molten metal into the mould. Whilst he worked, many frames, metal shapes – some contorted, some flamboyant – stared at him, acknowledging and appreciating in utter silence.

Our blacksmith, on his way back home, saw a little kid who was standing against a wall with his friend, wasting time, living. That little kid whispered something to his friend and they both started following our blacksmith, copying his gait. A silly game, a random thought, a reason to smile.

Dear reader what does time say? Time says it is next day.

Every frame, every metal shape was eagerly waiting for our blacksmith. Roller shutter made its habitual noise and our blacksmith entered his workshop, and along with him came his two buddies, those two kids we saw earlier. Quickly they went and stood next to his grand table, jumping with excitement.

Our blacksmith finally showed them what was now ready in the mould – it was a crane on turtle candlestick holder. The two kids laughed and so did our blacksmith. He said the crane and the turtle were friends and the kids inquired if he had seen something like that in real. Our blacksmith nodded and said that when he was their age he went with his father to a lake side and saw a crane standing on a turtle’s back. Childhood memories, captured time that never fades.

 Picture Courtesy - Google 

Saturday, 7 October 2017

The Journey

Amongst the clouds… yes, this is how the journey began. Mushy clouds, mushy dreamy clouds all around her. Whether she walked or the white dreams floated around her isn’t something the music ever revealed. The music was busy playing and she was busy colouring. The sky and earth colours participated and turned rich.

Meanwhile, in a parallel universe, someone took a flight, landed, took a cab, halted for a coffee break, laughed with her friend and continued the road trip.

Warm waves of velvety starry blanket covered the existence and hushed those who listened into happy silence. She stayed awake for a while just to witness it all. A simple melodious note filled her ears and she swam to sleep.

That someone talked to her friend, they ate pastries and called it a day. That someone, with ‘oh’ look, got up to brush her teeth and then went to bed. Phew!

She opened her eyes, awakened the self and stepped out to see the end of a long search. Birds and buds, earth’s aroma and touch, giant trees’ humble smiles, the sun’s vocals and the wind’s compositions, other human beings, all dancing, and of course, the bicycles… everything she laid her eyes on glanced back at her, welcomed and sang to her. Tring, tring… tring, tring, she replied to them. Crossed leg sitting inside an apple she relished it, sweet, sour, juicy and fresh. When she jumped outside, she gave the left-over bit to a dog. Questioning her about nothing the dog finished the apple. Tring, tring… she went ahead and met a mathematician’s spirit, who gave her the map that took her to the grand golden lotus with twelve petals. Its beauty struck her hard and she kept standing there for ages in admiration. Primary and secondary colours, in circles, pyramids and cylindrical shapes all passed by her. She blinked and found herself inside the grand golden lotus. Earth, Fire, Wind and Water were there, she saw it, just a glimpse, but they were there in absoluteness. She blinked and she was back outside. Oh! The joy! She danced all her way, lal-lal-lal-laaa, rotated and laughed, climbed the musical rainbow and listened to what the colours were playing and then surprised herself with her quiet self, quiet but not low, because her eyes were beaming and her soul still dancing.

By the hourglass the journey continued for that someone and her friend, click-click-click, pictures taken, tring-tring-tring on the cycle path, resting, eating and laughing. That someone’s friend like a darling blue bird sang and danced… unable to resist that someone also joined her. Together they collected memories and both filled their hourglass with it. Smart! Now time reminds them of those memories all the time.

O journey, when did you start and when will you end?
O journey, can I stop and meet my friend?
The beginning is hazy, but true and the end will be a new beginning for you.
Don’t stop if you want to meet your friend, for she is on a journey too.

Monday, 2 October 2017


ठहर कर कहने की जल्दी मे,
मुझे ज़रा देर हो गई।

बात याद भी रह गई,
और भूल भी गई। 

दरअसल मामला सुलझ कर और भी पेचीदा हो गया है,
ख़ुद को जानने की पहल जो कर बैठी हूँ।

उस दिन जाने की जल्दी न मची होती तो,
सब जान ही गई थी, सब पहचान ही गई थी मैं।

अनगिनत अफ़सानो मे एक और अफसाना सही,
बस कलम ढूंढ लूँ, फिर और कोई बहाना नहीं। 

Translation -

The Excuse

In a hurry to share it later on,
I delayed it further.

I still remember what it was.
And I also think I have forgotten it.

Indeed the matter has become very simple and thus, very complex,
Maybe because I have decided to know myself.

Only if I was not in a rush to leave,
I would have understood everything.

Amongst all the tales, one more tale will be added
If only I can find my pen, I won’t delay it any longer.

Sunday, 10 September 2017

A Grey Building

In sickness I lay staring out from the window. All I could see was a few small trees and one big grey building. Shades of black, pataches of dirt and the peeled paint made it look more like a sketch of a building...

A sketch of an old building that has seen eras pass by. An era that changes almost nothing, but still does. Change that life awaits. Life that holds colours. Colours combine to form black, if it's light they combine to form white. Remember the prism experiment? Black and white...and grey. Grey characters say a lot. A grey building says a lot.

The Truth

Dragging oneself ahead, only because dragging backwards would be difficult and funny, doesn’t complete you. Following an invisible laz...