My Balcony

Drops from heaven,
And the lush green grass,
a visual symphony.

Sitting aloof,
With eyes ajar,
Heart easing harmony.

Sweet wind,
Deep breaths,
Life’s alimony.

Your thoughts,
Saffron sky,
And my Balcony.

Deceiving Smile

As i stood waiting for light to turn green, looking to the crowd around me. Its a crowd yes, i hardly know anyone, few faces i might have seen here and there but my mind decides not to recollect. I stood among array of cars,scooters waiting to press on accelerator.


As I looked around me to see, to capture expressions of people around me, i could not help but noticing this young boy raggedly dressed, tattered, shabby. He wore a worn out blue shirt. The shirt's blue was shying behind the dirt and sweat filled black. His black shorts could barely conceal his privates, full of holes. His uncombed frayed hair, gave him a look of a month without a bath. He had utmost dismal, broken expressions on his face. His eyes carried his tormented childhood in them, and it was becoming much obvious under this bright sun. At the time when heat is next to unbearable, this boy should be honored, facilitated to show acute human endurance barefooted, instead he is neglected.

He moves from one vehicle to the other tapping on closed car windows, clinging on to the arms of people on two wheelers. He gets cursed, swore at, scorned but he goes about his job like an ordeal. Moving through the convoy of smoke emitting automobiles he is at his sweetest ease, twice denied he wont spare a second thought and move to next vehicle asking for money (let me call it help). Somehow i don't have a clue why but he stops at this man on a motor bike. He starts putting in little extra effort, like he could sense a break here. He starts to plead, grab man's shirt, the pain in his eyes has begun to pour into his voice. The mo-biker shows him his hand in an act such as to slap his face, but the kid was such a resolve. He dropped down to the man's feet and start cleaning his shoe with the his blue/black shirt. Now i can imagine where the bulk of dirt on his shirt came from. The man kicks and shrugs the kid off his feet but kid jumps back and to my amazement this time he kiss the man's feet. Is it the pain at its maximum, life is a big force after all.

I wonder what the man on the mo-bike felt but i could sense submission in his behavior. He took out his wallet from back pocket and pulled a ten rupee note for the kid. The man looked at me and smiled, i must have had a confused look on my face at that time. Was it a smile of dominance? Was it a smile of a satisfied ego? or Was it a smile of a tender heart reaching out to help a needy? i was so stunned to figure that out.

Kid took that ten rupee note and as he turned his face to the other side. I saw the dark pain of his eyes turned into gleam, he had a spring in his feet, in few moments his face went from a dismal scene to a desired picture of happiness. Was it a happiness of his plan falling in place? Was it happiness to outsmart a man to loosen his wallet? or Was it the happiness to know yes, i am getting something to eat this afternoon? Again i was so stunned to figure that out.

Now as write this the feeling is dreadful. I know no one won that day. It was a defeat, a loss. Humanity lost, our democracy lost, India lost and somewhere inside me a part myself lost. Such as above in bright shiny daylight and in the darkness of night we the people loose everyday.

I am sad and my heart hurts, something has changed in me. I have a hope something has changed for good.

A child's Pursuit

You have the world to give to me,
Your benevolence is unmatched,
And that i know.
Yet i want my candy back.

You can take me to heights of moon,
And make me feel i own this world,
I am in awe of your mightiness.
Yet i want my candy back.

A mansion on the salmon hills,
A company of most gentlewoman,
I know all that is on stake.
Yet i want my candy back.

All i want is, my candy back.

I have my moon

Stars have stars to be friends with.
They twinkle when they talk. They blink when they laugh.
And the moon ever so lonely looks for me as I walk.

Yes I will come to balcony my moon,
Every night i will come to meet you,
My beautiful friend from so far,
coz my moon you are my true star.

Snowflake


With colors in her eyes,
In company of splendid butterflies,
Radiance of fresh morning,
Gracing her magical face,
Sweetness of secret nectar on her lips,
fallen flowers, with care she picks,
Walking on the dew in her whites,
She sets thy backyard alight,
Swinging and Swaying with sounds of bells,
The one who carries Seashells.

I heard this story when i was a kid. Once there was a monster. he was big, cruel, nasty and strong. He used to fight, shout, break all the time and people were very scared of him. The monster had one weakness his life was in a Mocking bird. He would do anything to keep that bird in tact. Well Snowflake is by no means a mocking bird, she is way much pretty and i am by no means a monster i am worse.

My Snowflake does carry my life. She is an amazing person. She is at par with excellence. She is sweet, intelligent, lovable and she also loves me. Thinking about her is my most cherished past time. While doing my regular coarse of work, i keep thinking what she would be doing right at this moment. Would she be smiling, would she be serious, would she be laughing or would she be annoyed. All these thoughts have been a big part of my life in recent years. I feel happy to have learned to love.

" Love is beautiful, ours is way much beautiful ".

TLP

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" I heared that voice that day,
And i ran out to have the glimse of her,
I saw an empty street but i gathered,
The scent of her shadow,that i gathered".

Paharganj a place where i witnessed the time when i felt so touched by love.I left faridabad,I left my friends,my college and i left my angel.She is an angel for me she will always be the one.I remember the day when i first saw her in pink.I was never the same after that,I felt for the first time that i will miss my life if i miss her.
She looked immensely beautiful,every eye that laid its sight on her discovered a new color,a new definition of the word splendiferous.I was mesmerized for once and for all.It was amazing,i chased her all around.I was spell-bind.I am sure she doesn't know black-magic but her hypnotic charm is as strong as any magical trance.I was in love with her comprehensiveness but by now i became an admirer of her beauty also.I never dared to write about her because how hard i try i am always short of expressing my feelings for her.

During my days at paharganj away from her.with every passing piece of time i fell in love with her over and over again.i missed her to my depths and i dreamt.
Once we were both on the white snow bathed hills.She always told me she has never been to hills.So in that dream i decided to take her with me to the exquisite valley.So that i can see and enjoy all her colors i painted the backdrop in white.She blossomed like a tulip flower of early morning and she blossomed.She smiled and with her smiled the trees,smiled the few patches of green,smiled the smoke from the distant hill.i savoured the moment and its there with me for always.She gave me a dream and more than a dream she gave me a moment forever.
" Oh the beauty of heaven's,
The time waits for you,
You intrigue the dark,
The moon feels facinated,
Oh the beauty of heaven's,
Touch me once again."

Mystical Winter

Winter 2005 was chilling cold upto my likings.I felt like i was in my own kingdom.Kingdom full of mist,cold winds,fresh morning dew (wallah it was so much my weather,the one god created especially for me).
When i talk about cold it will be of least sense not to mention Thithurta(Shivering) Babloo(its a name).His name so much symbolizes his build. Babloo similar to Bamboo (Tall and thin).I admit in my life i haven't seen a two legged creature like him.Being a Man(big doubt) who hails from the land of cold waters (Haridwar) ,he was gutsy enough to keep fan moving even at 2-3 degrees and Funny enough to scare his ghosts at the sight of a bucket full of water.Sharing bed with him was as torturous as eating raw bread with frooti in breakfast.
About me ,I was on my own,washing clothes all by myself and i loved it.Facing the icey cool water at 11'oclock at night it was magical for me and tragical for neighbours with all the noice i caused. Did i tell you how much i like to be a pain in the ass.
Pain in the ass hah it makes me remember Gattu(Ginni my little brother) version of pain in the ass for me.He came into the territory and first thing he did was to show me the wayout of my cozy nest.I had to take refuge upstairs .... but what a blessing in disguise with all the shattered windows it was much colder in this new room hoooo lovely. Everyday i rose with morning sun to see the beautiful doll in the balcony opposite to my ruins.With the face of an angel(oh i haven't seen one but nobody has so noone can counter question me here).So with a face of an angel she looked marvellous in traditional indian wear.With the cold morning singing its chants, and sight of her rubbing palms to manage some heat was a perfect start of a day for me.SSSSSHHHHH hmmmmm sorry i went down into the memory lanes.
Ding Ding Ding oh chutki bhua there she goes breaking the magical spell.She never misses a chance.Oh you want me to tell a little about her well there nothing little about her ...will come to her later because for now i have to go downstairs and get ready.Ii don't want chutki dynamite to burry me down. Hannji Bhuaji here i come .....

Rain Drops In My Veranda

"I thought Rose would Die,

Tulip will turn dry,

Amaryllis...who will listen to its Cries,

Just when there was no end to their pain....

It Rained."

In the middle of restless,clueless and Rush Hour Struck Delhi.I found this place , a mirage may be what this place may seem to you but it really exists.

I was a guest,atleast that was what i thought,Soon to be engulfed within the surroundings of that world.Just a few yards away from one of the busy most Railway Station,Yards away from colourful yet dark market of Paharganj there stands the Mumtaz Buliding.May be the name symbolizes the love in its truest sense but place is the one where no Shah Jahan can see no Taj Mahal.

I took the small vent to meet my new nest.On the treshhold i met the Kallu Dhobi.The Iron in his hand looked bigger than him(Just like a Bazzoka it seemed).But he was swaying it like a piece of plastic. Unaware of the fact that now i would be quite a regular site for him he decided to ignore me for the time. I have to admit that i was to encounter the tiniest dynamite will ever known to human race (Chutki Bhua) . She was the one who will take the space of careof in my new mailing address.

There i stood with my blue bag,

Waiting for the response of the knock on the door......

and door opened....