Friday, 29 November 2013


A thousand mirrors broke inside,
Nothing matters, you broke or I,
The broken mirrors have your face,
Leaving trails and finding Trace,
of your love, of your voice, 
of your words, of your choice
A thousand beats skipped my heart
hours back, these were innocent
Who's guilty, how does it matter,
Moments were filthy, that shattered..
I'm yet to find the way for living,
Thanks for everything, it's Thanksgiving..

Monday, 11 November 2013

What's with *I am going to confess something. Support me.*

Yet another funny experience on facebook. I have been noticing almost 2-3 dozen of the people added on my facebook updating weird status like
I am going to confess something. Support me.
I am going to die now.
I am no more a virgin. etc.
Well, I found out that this is a NASTY TRAP GAME and the rules are
The person who likes or comments has to choose one of the following to post on his/her timeline.

1. So far, I have been in 42 relationships
2. I think I like someone, what should I do?

3. My Mom arranged me for a blind date for me.
4. Someone invited me to be a prostitute, what should I do?
5. I forgot to wear my underwear today
6. I am going to confess something, support me
7. I still love my ex.
8. We are getting married in a few days.
9. I am not virgin anymore.
10. I want to die now

Made me laugh later when I went through the comments made by people who are unaware of this game.. Sometimes, It is fun to do some crazy things..

Saturday, 9 November 2013

Love Guru

Dear love guru,

I appreciate and respect your work and concern for others. Earlier I used to love it, I thought marrying you would be the best and perfect decision of my life.
Later, I realized, you are actually obsessed with being a guru..while you were solving the relationship issues of your  colleague with her husband, I was expecting you to sit by my side and listen to me...
Whilst you spent nights at your school friend's place to support him in his break up phase, I was waiting for you over dinner because I cooked your favorite dish.
When you were disconnecting my calls because you were giving ears to your junior marriage troubles, I was in my periodic pain and needed your emotional support.
When I demanded your time and attention, you yelled at me and scolded me to be possessive and to be an obstacle in your career, I just wanted you..
When you were frustrated and angry because someone didn't follow your prescribed relationship suggestions and you were all bad mouthing and bitching about the person to me, I had some beautiful things to share and some desires to be discussed.
When you were enjoying the buffet your clients, colleagues and friends rewarded for taking them out of the emotional troubles, I wanted you to take me out somewhere..
Well, it is time, please come home and sign your divorce paper, since, I have nothing else to share, discuss, desire or demand, all my best wishes for your love sutras ..
Your obsessed, attention seeking, dramatic and worst mistake

Friday, 8 November 2013

जाड़ों सी,तुम्हारी याद

सर्दियों कि धुंधली सुबह सी तेरी याद
नम करती आँखें कुछ वैसे ही
कंपकंपाते होंठ और थरथराता जिस्म
वैसे ही जैसे,
जाड़े कि सुबहों में  तुम भीगे हाथ लगते थे
और हँसते थे मेरे रूस जाने पर

और सर्द रातों सी ये तेरी याद
सुनसान रातों में किटकिटाते दांतों सी,
खुद ही को देती सुनाई
गर्म साँसों को फूँकती और हथेली को करती गर्म
घिसती और टांगों के बीच छुपाती
ठंडी सी नाक और
खुश्क लब
और उनमे बसी,
जाड़ों जैसी, तुम्हारी याद.. 

एक पत्ता

शाख से टूटे पत्ते आ कर मेरी गोद में गिरे थे,
पीले, चुरमुरे, रंगमिटे से
आज उनमे से एक पत्ता किताब के पन्नो के बीच मिल गया,
भूरा, चुरमुरा, अधूरा सा,
ठीक वैसा ही ठहरा जैसे वो पल ठहरा है जब बारिष से पहले
ज़ोरों कि हवा में उलझ गयी थी मेरी लटें,
और सुलझाने के बहाने तुमने गालों को छुआ था मेरे,
हाँ, वो पल, वैसा ही है ,
मटमैला, चुरमुरा और अधूरा

Thursday, 7 November 2013

The Chronicles of my Paranoiac Heeds

I was hypnotized and I made a wish to be the slave of Satan. My desire was so strong that I could get easily persuaded, now I realize, the wish I made had given me pleasure-a-bubble. I am awakened. I saw the devil's real face.. He is horrible, I hate him.. But I chose to be his slave.. I made my choice. I am sorry beautiful life.. I was a slave to my desires.. Am a slave to devil..
 ~ The Chronicles of my Paranoiac Heeds..!

Respect the scarcity

If you are too much available, you can never be respected. People judge/measure you by the money you earn and by your availability. A housewife spends her whole life to build a family, all her time is for her husband, kids and other members of the family, still I have seen in many families, housewives are less respected to the earning ones. Even their husbands take them lightly, intentionally or unintentionally humiliate them. Although I can say mentality has changed yet this is in human nature to RESPECT THE SCARCITY, easily available things never get high level maintenance. The only thing to achieve in life is the self-respect. Make sure you earn it.

Public dealing

Writers mutilate their talent by the mock praises, eventually, they start writing to please others in the pursuit of being the addicts of pseudo appreciation. In the same manner they get disheartened and demoralized by the criticism and aspersions of the same class. Being a writer one must take those words into consideration which are said by authenticated critics and standardized writers. One must not insult his art by making it a public property. Always remember, "If you leave the decisions to public they will slit your throat, behead you and burn you into the ashes to make your statue and worship"

On writing

Be a hungry reader before writing your gem, But make sure you choose the quality not quantity. Most of the times we take a wrong perception by the number of books read, no! If you have planned to be a writer, always make sure while researching, you must focus upon "how/what not to write" than 'what/how to write' Ignoring this fact can be a cause of acquisition for plagiarism.

Shayari Hindi

..aur kuch is tarah rooh me basta chala gaya vo jaise katil ne dil me khanjar utaar diya ho..

एक दसतक सी हुइ फिर दिल के किवाड़ पर
शायद तेरी याद फिर मयखाने से लड़खड़ाती चली आई है.. 

फिर चाह सी उठी है दिल में
तुम्हारी बाहों मे वो सुकूं की नींद हो
गर्म सांसे,तेज़ धड़कन
और कम्बल मे लिपटे पल हसीन हो
तुम्हारी बांहो की नींद हो


इस जहाँ में नहीं मिलती तेरी सी सूरत
हम कूचों में तेरी तस्वीर लिए फिरते हैं..
काजल पोंछते वक्त हल्का सा जो फैला,
याद आया ऐसे ही कुछ फैला करता था ,
जब तुम रुलाते थे,
झगड़ के चले जाते,
और याद आते थे..
काजल तो फैला अब भी है, 
क्या तुम मेरी यादों से झगड़ बैठे हो?
याद भी हूँ?
या फिर रस्ते में लड़ बैठे हो?
खैर छोडो, जाने दो,
यूं ही फैल गया,
महज़ काजल है ये.. तुम नहीं..

सुनो तुम
वो चांद तोड़ लाओ ना
लाल बार्डर की सफेद साङी पर
खूब खिलेगा
और छत से टपकती बूंदे भी
मुझे बारिश की पायल पहनाओ ना
ओस की खुशबू
कांच की चूडी
और शाम के सूरज की लाली
ला दो, पहना दो ना..


मिलती हूं तुमसे, गर्मजोशी से फिर से
अभी ख़ुद से खफा हूं, ज़रा ख़ुद को मना लूं..

मेरे कातिल से कह दो
गुनाह-ए-मुहोब्बत में वो बराबर शामिल था
रंगे हाथ, लाल छींटें, तर बदन..
कुछ और नहीं बस मेरा दिल था..

जो तू ना समझा, तो तू नासमझा..
इश्क में नासमझी का और ही मज़ा है

तसल्ली से बैठ कर कभी समझाएंगे..
ये इश्क के मसले, जल्दी में उलझ जाते हैं


Ae kaash,
wo subah neend se jaage to,
humse ladne aaye..
ke tum kon hoti ho?
mujhe khawabo me satane wali..

 "Tu kuchh bhi kar, aadat badal le.. fitrat kaise badlega? tu insaan hai, insaan hi rahega.."

Writers' evaluation?

How a writer evaluates laymen Grammar Depth of knowledge on subject Sense of humor Ego-satisfaction Seeks praise and no criticism Sensible development of conversation. If other party fails in these tests.. a writer won't prefer to talk again. To conclude witty and skilled in language! True?

Publicity Stunts?

I like the new "publicity stunt trend" now a days.. No material, No Publisher, No Authenticity yet the "facebook Advertising/ Page Promotion/Pre-Publicity method" to attract "customers" is interesting, Bollywoodification or Commodification of Literature has not only lost its concrete form but also metamorphosed a "reader" into "customer". Not being brusque, but It is true..what do you think?

Who is a writer and what is writing?

Some say.. writing is giving vent to their emotions. For some it is the coition with beloved. After beating about bush/Obama/manmohan (lol) And juggling with palaver and terminologies, could they annotate , what writing is.. If it is what, 'they' say, how does it feel? Is it the same way I feel when I meet my love and let my body melt in his arms? Who is a writer? What is writing? If it is an art, a writer evolves into an artist.. So technically are we going to agree what the trendsetter have left.. As I always say.. The worst thing a person does after reaching his destination is to forget his journey.. You are, because they made you.. They? Your readers! And still everything revolves around the question who is a writer and what is writing..? :)