Tareef

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क्या  लिखूँ,

क्या  लिखूँ  मैं  तेरे  हुश्न  की  तारीफ  में । 

पंछियों  की  चहचहाहट  हो ,

बहते  पानी  की  गरगराहट  हो ,

खुदा  की  तालीम  कोई  कलमाह  हो ,

मोहब्बत  नाम  का  एक  इलज़ाम  हो । 

क्या  लिखूँ,

क्या  लिखूँ  मैं  तेरे  हुश्न  की  तारीफ  में । 

बच्चे  की  हँसी  सी  पाक  हो ,

शबनम  में  भीगी  हुई  रात  हो,

आइना  हो  कुदरत  के  ख़ज़ाने  का ,

इल्म  हो , रब  की  इबादत  का । 

मीठे  झरनों  का  तुम  संगम  हो ,

बांसुरी  से  निकलती  हुई  सरगम  हो ,

पत्तों  की  नरम  सी  छाँव  हो ,

सर्दी  की  पहली  सुनहरी  धूप  हो । 

क्या  लिखूँ,

क्या  लिखूँ  मैं  तेरे  हुश्न  की  तारीफ  में । 

शायर  की  सोच  उसकी  कलम  हो ,

फूलों   पे  बैठी  नादान  सी  तितली  हो ,

तेज़  से  जिसके  सूरज  भी  पिघला  हो ,

बादलों  में  जैसे  इंद्रधनुष  निकला  हो । 

बरसात  में  नाचता  मोर  हो ,

ख़ामोशी  में  डूबी  हुई  शोर  हो ,

खोये  हुए  मुसाफिर  की  तलाश  हो ,

शायद  किसी  काफिर  की  नमाज़  हो । 

क्या  लिखूँ,

क्या  लिखूँ मैं तेरे हुश्न कि तारीफ में । 

रेतीले  सागर  की  प्यास  हो  तुम ,

आँखों  से  बहता  ज़ज़बात  हो  तुम ,

एक  आशिक़  की  तड़पती  बेक़रारी  हो  तुम ,

नज़ाकत  से  रुबरु  एक  दुल्हन  हो  तुम । 

अण्डों  को  तोड़ती  हुई  ज़िन्दगी  हो ,

एक  माँ  की  अपने  बच्चे  से  नाराज़गी  हो ,

ईमान  साथ  नहीं  देता  मेरा  कहने  को ,

कोई  और  नहीं  तुम  ही  मेरे  खुदा  हो । 

तू  ही  बता ,

क्या  लिखूँ  मैं  तेरे  हुश्न  की  तारीफ  में । 

Unveiled

There are very few people in this world that you care about not because they are your good friend but because you are a fan of their personality. They are not perfect in any sense yet a complete individual. They are manipulative, selfish, yet they give you moments which you cherish much more than any other. This is dedicated to one of those. A story of a very powerful girl.

I am a girl. Now you would expect me to shout my problems on you. The problems I am too scared to say in public so I prefer to scribble and outcast my anger with it. No, I will not keep calm and stay quiet. I have self respect and I will fight for it. If you don’t let me live with honour I will gift you your rules and make my own.

I am not scared of the so-called society. The society is nothing but 1% of those who thinks it is manly to suppress girls and 98% of those who are too scared of those 1%. I love to be unpopular and called names and things than to live with fear and scarcity. This scarcity is not of love or money but freedom. The freedom of flying like an eagle, irrespective of any boundaries or boundations.

I party out with guys, and have a night out with them. I drink, booze and smoke. I wear short pants, show off my legs and try hard to steal the attention of my crushes. I have got friends. A lot to say and very few to count. Some say they are my friends and would spend a lot of time with me. Every occasion they would be the first ones to wish and would even bring gifts. But I know they are only with me because I am a pretty girl and also because I am of the weird types. They can boast about in their circle to have booze and night out with me. They love to upload pics on facebook with a hand on my shoulder which would make them look like a dude. Some of those had even higher expectations. Some days it’s really tough to find a real shoulder for a drop of tear.

But I never cared. I am a strong girl, a brave one. If girls are below men then they can also take the benefits of these so-called men. I have used people and I am not ashamed of it. I try my way out of the rules and the boundaries. The names and negative fame works in my favour. I might not be the happiest person on this planet but I am one of those to have really lived it. I have walked alone at night on the streets of the rape prone city. I have hit boys straight on the face when they harassed me. I have got only male friends as girls can’t take a rebellion like me. I have been the inspiration of many girls who still don’t dare to take my path.

I was me until few days back. I lost the smile from my face. I was never very happy but atleast I had a genuine smile of living my life on my terms. It was Monday evening. The sun was still bright on the sky. I was there walking alone on the corner of a market place. It was not very crowded but still had a lot of people. A car stopped by my side and an unknown guy grabbed my hand. I shouted and people looked at me. The guy left me and the car rushed away. I didn’t know if they were trying to kidnap me or were just eve-teasing. I was not even able to have a good look at that guy with the sudden events. It left me scared. I had dealt situation with boys but no one tried to abduct me before. The people who stayed stunned now came running to me when the car was out of the sight. It went even more humiliating when one of the consolers tried to feel me rubbing my back.

I cried. I didn’t remember the last time if I had ever cried in public. It broke me. I couldn’t come out of my hostel for 4 days. I know it was my ego of being strong that I found it hard to share it with others. My friends gave a lot of strength and accompanied me everywhere. I needed faith but all I was getting was pity. I would have gathered my courage back but lost when you asked me to behave like a girl. I loved you primarily because you are smart but mainly because you understood me. Atleast I felt it till now. May be you even did, but you lost the fight with the society. You gave up on me and even stole my spirit. It was the last day when I had felt the fire in me. It has been some time and you must know that I love you even more than me. I would change myself to be with you. I thought for a long time and I think I should say it to you.

Being a girl is too tough in this society and life would be too boring without it. I know you can’t always be there to protect me and I don’t expect you to. All I needed was a belief on me. If you can’t give it to me that’s all right. We can break-up and I will take all the credits. It will even help me forget you sooner.

I am a girl and I know how it feels like to be one. If you can’t try to feel my pain just don’t give me your goddamn suggestions. I am not here to leave quotes or tell people how to live their life but I am sure of how I wanna have mine.

A photographer in love

Priya was an exceptional photographer. She had an amazing talent of capturing moments. She didn’t captured just faces but feelings. Every photograph of her clearly shouted the state of mind of the person. The silence of the painful and the joy of the laughter. She had many admirers but one was her personal favourite.

Raj was his name. A tall, dark guy with broad features and a double chin. He was not just a fan, a friend but her love. She felt immense pleasure clicking him. He would make faces and do weird stuff to let her experiment with him. He had a lot of friends still managed to spend time with her.

The only thing she hated was if she had to click him with a girl. Everytime a girl used to get closer to him it would burn her from inside. Every moment he placed his hand on a girl’s shoulder she had to face the agony of hitting the girl right on the face. She would let them take as little time possible and click the pictures within seconds. When he would praise the pictures her mood would brighten up. He had a weird sense of praising her. He would pour his feelings and grammar while praising her.  It would even make the writers steal his way of praising a skill. His almost every picture contained her name as the picture credits.

She had often thought of proposing him but never dared. He was always surrounded by the bunch of pretty girls trying hard to lure his attention to them. She knew she was beautiful but lacked attitude to compete with those dumb Barbie dolls.

Like every other night she was going through his photographs. She cried. She cried her heart out. It was just her pillow who felt the pain and got wet shedding the tears.  The moon was shining bright but was unable to erode the darkness.

Every picture of his had her name written in bold letters but none contained her in the frame.

1st Interaction

When I entered in my college life, like every other guy I also had two dreams.  Get some good friends and impress some beautiful girls. This story is about my 1^st interaction with a very beautiful girl of my college.

A class of 30 students, each trying to make his first impression the best one. Girls with prefect make-up seemed like they just came out of the shehnaz beauty parlour. Guys dressed like gentlemen, naah they did come the way they dressed everyday (why are we boys like this? :P ). Guys finding places to sit near beautiful girls and girls secretly looking at the well built guy from the corner of their eyes. They however managed to take a seat behind him to get a better look at him (girls are much more clever).

I was a little shy or maybe I didn’t get a seat vacant except at the 1^st bench so I moved to the very last bench. The teacher was such a lady and what a pleasant voice she had. But who pays attention to her on the very first day. The mind was all around surrounded for searching the playground, sports room, gym and the swimming pool (especially the girl’s one).

I soon made a friend and was playing Angry Birds on his costly smartphone, he had been showing off from some time when a voice made me raise my head. With bowed head she walked to a seat on the empty 1^st row. A pretty girl had entered and I waited for the violins and guitars to be played. Instead my heart did beat like a drum. She was sitting there clam and idle. Her eyes unlike others were not busy judging her colleagues. She didn’t care if someone noticed her or not. She was very beautiful but lame to utilize this talent to impress others.

“Now pay attention here everybody.” The teacher shouted and took my attention. The loudness and the firm look in her eyes stopped me from all distractions. “We will break in group of five, 3 guys and 2 girls. Then each group will sit in a circle and being the 1^st class you have to know as much you can about the person sitting to the left of you.”

Ohh, did I waste time, not at all. I clearly remember of pushing few guys, arranging the chairs swiftly just to get a seat to the right of her. The heart and breath, both were pacing hard but the 1^st step to victory had been taken. I gave a gentle smile to everyone in the group and turned towards her. I was a little conscious and out of breath.

“Hi, I am Raj. Tell me something about yourself.” I was dying to hear the most pleasant voice. Every second was ticking in my mind.

She calmly replied. “Basically I hate boys.”

PS: That was her only reply. We became good friends later and forever.

This post has been written as a part of the competition #ConditionSeriousHai! by the Cadbury 5star.

Phone-call

Richa had been moving around the house. She was tensed and worried. But more than that, she was angry on him. Couldn’t he spare few minutes to make a call? Why wouldn’t he just call her and say that he is alright. That would bring peace to her and she will sleep calmly. May be she should not call tonight. He will feel this odd and will call her tomorrow morning to apologize.

She was firm for her decision but her impatient heart was still struggling. Finally the brain lost the war and her hand reached the telephone. She picked the receiver and pressed the buttons.

Her 10 year old son, Amrit was watching her mother and knew the usual routine. He knew that she would go on speaking and shouting and complaining. She would only stop after she would have cursed him for marrying her and spoiling her life. Complaining about Amrit and his lack in studies. She would then complain about neighbours and the inflation. At last she would again scold him for not calling her and making her worry about his well-being.

This had been going on for almost three years now, everyday without fail. She would wait for his call and then call him and fight with him.

He went to the kitchen and brought a glass of water for her. He knew she would soon keep the receiver and will feel thirsty.

Today again there will be no reply from the other end.

Friendship and Love

Richa had been calmly reading in the library. The exams were still far away so she was the only one to give company to the librarian. Soon, even he left her to go for a tea break.

Raj came in and sat in the bench beside her. “I knew I would find you here only. You are becoming a better book worm with every passing day.”

“What happened?” asked richa, still reading from the books.

“Why can’t be a guy and a girl just be friends?” The librarian would have thrown him out for the high decibel sound he had made, had he been there.

“Ankita proposed me. You know that I am concentrating on my career and don’t want to get in a commitment and distract my attention. I explained her that and asked her to be my friend. How hard is that to understand?”

Richa blankly turned the next page of the book without paying much attention.

“She said that either she will be my girlfriend or else we would never talk again in life. Is she proposing me or threatening me? Why didn’t she bring a gun along with her then? I asked her to wait for some time till I achieve my goals.”

He looked at her, she was still deep in her books.

“We both have been friends for last 12 years but never fell in love. We remained friends and the best ones. Why can’t she or everyone be like that? Why is it necessary to get into a commitment? If you really love the person then just wait for that person to achieve his goals. He will surely come back for such a kind of love.”

A short pause, she was not responding.

“You tell me. Is it really that hard to understand?”

Richa lifted her head and looked straight in his eyes.

“Well, I understood that.” She smiled and left.

White Rose

Raj was in a good mood today. There was nothing special but he was feeling happy. He went for the morning walk and met almost all of the people he liked. The nature was being gentle and a calm humid breeze was blowing. When you feel good, it seems everything around works in your favour.

He stayed in the park for some while. It was not his regular schedule. He had lived his life with full discipline. Everything was done in a proper sequence and except Sundays you would not be able to discriminate others days in his daily life. Kids used to be at home and the office used to be closed which made all the difference. He never had big dreams and was satisfied with whatever he had. A small house, a beautiful caring wife and three lovely children. What else could someone dream of?

Just then a football hit his head. Ahh, it was a plastic ball not a real one. A four year kid was playing along with her mother. He was mesmerized by his innocence and the excitement the kid showed for the ball. He for the first time was regretting that his children grew up so fast. He stayed there for some time watching kids and other elders. Life seemed different today.

He stood and started walking to way back home. Just then he saw white roses. A road-side vendor had just taken out a bunch of full grown white roses and displayed it on the front. It was not his favourite, he liked red much more than any other color. But white rose had a much special meaning in his life. Memories flashed and he was there in his twenties. It was Valentine day and they were taking a stroll after the coaching classes. Today she was looking very pretty in her light blue suit with white dupatta. She stopped to pay her regards in the lord krishna’s temple. He ran to the nearby florist and asked for a red rose. It was shear bad luck that the number of romeos had grown so much that they bought out even the yellow roses. He knew that he would never get courage again so proposed her with the white rose.

It has been long since he gifted her one. He had been busy with his job and she with the kids. He didn’t remember the last time he said the magical three words to her. He bought the rose and rushed home.

On the way back he tried a lot to come up with some romantic words but a common person can only steal the ideas from the movies. He just went to her, gave the rose and said “you still look so beautiful.”

The woman in her eighties took the rose with trembling hands. Her wrinkled face lit up and blushed like a newly married girl. “White roses, they have been my favourite.” She paused.

“But who are you?”

Interview

The room was silent and calm and the only sound being produced was by the ticking of the small alarm clock. Raj laid on the bed all depressed and dejected. It was his 7^th interview rejection. Being one of the best programmers of the college, everyone had great expectations from him. Yet he was lying there without a job when 80% of the college had got placed. He never thought that all his hard-work would fail just because he was shy and lacked in communication skills. Making out till the last round of all the companies, he was rejected by the HR team. He had been trying very hard, conversing all the time in English but it was not yet sufficient. Every dream job had already rejected him and this was almost his last on-campus opportunity to get a job of his capability. He had been preparing all for the HR round from past few weeks.

The coordinator came to announce the result and his name was not there for the HR round. This time he missed to qualify the technical one.

Shouts and hustle coming from outside the room were signaling that the results were out. Few more can now relax and enjoy the rest of their college life. He hated everyone who had the placement for he knew, he deserved more than any of them. The door swung open and in came Ishant. He tried but faked a smile for him as he knew the reason for his shining face. He had not opened the mail to see the total number of people selected but he didn't even care nor did he ask. Ishant kept in-front of him the packet of sweets. He wished to throw them away. He was so jealous of him and cursed him to bring sweets in the flick of time just after the announcement of results. He tore a small bit of sweets and stretched his lips even more.

“Take more. Finally, the bro got placed.”

“Yeah, congratulations to you.”

“Oye! Idiot. I am already placed, it’s you who got the placement.”

He rushed to the laptop screen and clicked on the new mail flashing on the screen. There was his name on the top.

Kagaz pe kalam

कह  तो  नहीं  सकूंगा , तुझसे  दिल  की  बात  मैं ,

चलो  कागज़  पे  कलम  चला  देता  हूँ ,

चिठ्ठी  नहीं , धड़कनें  उधार  भेजीं  हैं  तुझको ,

जवाब  भी   दे  दे , कब  से  इंतज़ार  में  बैठा  हूँ ।

A girl

Merry, cheerful and the naughty me,

I love playing in the sun,

As the night approaches by,

I am left along with none.

A girl is what my identity says,

Its just appearance I would add,

The heart beats the similar way,

It’s not the brain they can brag.

I like having tea at roadside,

Accompanying me is a friend,

Can’t roam around alone at night,

They say I cannot defend.

Indecency is not my clothes you see,

I just want some peace of mind,

I don’t accuse you of crime but,

How long will you remain blind?

If I tell how it’s like to be a girl,

There is a lot to say but,

The sorrow may weaken your heart,

I prefer to keep my mouth shut.

I didn’t shout till now because,

I was just the next door girl,

The things are going to change now,

My world has been on a swirl.

A walk along the home one evening,

Some groceries and a lot of leers,

I hurried to the path ahead,

To save something that was dear.

The four of them got hold of me,

Wolves were having the foal,

They looted as long they wished,

They only spared my soul.

I cried but in vain it went,

The news spread like a dictum,

The society is behaving as such,

I am the culprit not the victim.

They prayed for me, cried for me,

It was just starting of the doom,

Everyone said to kill the child,

I had in my womb.

Can’t protect our pride or honour,

It’s for all of them not some,

Don’t worry girls my son will be,

The man we desire them to become.