Saturday, December 27, 2008

The One of Turquoise Eyes (1)

When they see him they will realize that he has not changed much, pretty much same eyes, same nose and same curly hairs. How much time has passed, hmm; no one knows. They wonder, how much time. A lot is what they can think of, precisely how much, no one knows. They had given up the concept of tracking time long ago, ages ago will probably be the right word. That was their way of defeating time. Time was anyway a concept, defeating a concept seems so abstract now. Time was an absurd concept anyways.

His eyes were blue, actually turquoise. They say he was son of the green jungle that lay buried in the depth of the blues. On a certain night, he would just wander alone near the shore and his eyes, those turquoise eyes, will shed tears, green tears. They will all cry then, for no reasons known. Nobody ever asked him the reasons; and he, he never bothered about them. But that was all a long while ago. One fine day, or was it the afternoon; no one recalls the exactitude of that moment, but they recall that one fine moment (time, they sometime wonder if they really defeated it), ages ago, he was gone, just like that, without any premonition, perhaps without reasons as well, he just left.

They had not sent any search parties, they didn’t even worried, those were not the sentiments they shared/felt anyways. The only thing they missed, were the green tears which made them cry, for reasons they never knew. And although they missed crying, it was not that they knew that they missed it. They would go to the shore on the nights when the moon would be yellow and dimly lit and they will keep looking at the ocean, its blueness, its vastness. In the morning, when last of the stars took a holy dip in the blue ocean, they will return, feeling uneasy, incomplete and unsure of what is it that they were searching for, looking for.

All this was long ago; very, very long ago, for now it was a ritual, to wait for the moon to be yellow, stars to take a dip in the blueness and return engulfed with uneasiness, incoherency. Nobody had realized that all this while, their own eyes haven’t watered, that they have not cried, wailed and mourned. Those were emotions of past, emotions that lied buried away from the present (Time, they had thought they had defeated it), emotions they were unaware of, untouched from. Amongst those nights of yellow moon, were the days of golden hue and crimson shadows that filled them with life. It was a set routine, a day soaked with crimson, followed by a moon of varying shades and colors. There were intermittent days of violet as well, but that was when they wanted it to be that way, and those days were too less and limited. On days like that, there will be clouds in the sky, veiling the moon and its blueness. Actually these clouds will engulf the moon in the night itself and no matter how hard the moon tries, it will not be able to make itself free after being entangled amongst these clouds (unless they wanted to set it free). And then, the crimson shadows arrived, bathing the blueness of the moon; the moon will cry and threw tantrums but the clouds wont let him go; till the day becomes violet.

Those days were few and far between, but those were the occasions when they recalled faintly that there was once someone amongst them whose eyes were turquoise. They didn’t remember those green tears, but they had faint remembrances of him, he who had left long ago.

Wednesday, December 24, 2008


So many times I lost my heart and I felt sad, for there were no takers. I always ended up getting it back.

I lost three cameras and I felt sad; nobody returned them.

Monday, December 22, 2008

Ensuing Fall

When it falls
will let you have a taste of it,
till then
you need to try
and continue doing so;
for I am still
able to bear the pain.
I am crazy,
calling me insane
wont get you anywhere,
for I know this well
and I dont deny
so harder you got to try.
more painful
scathing, full of hurt and harm;
that's how you need to hit me
and it will surely fall.
It's not a promise,
mere destiny
just that it will take a while,
for I am thick skinned
more than strong willed,
as wrongly perceived.
But then
I am human
and humans fall,
so do tears;
So have no fears,
I will let you win in the end
till then let me fight my tears
and defend :)

Photo courtesy:

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Rhyme with a lil' Slime and some Grime :)

I need to write something; first the reasons WHY

  • I need to get over 'Rab Ne Paka Di Thodi'.
  • I need to get over another home draw by Chelsea.
  • I need to keep up with Baba Sehgal; 'Pump Up Your Style'.


Rhyme of the Day

Mere Nahane Ka Style hai
Mere Gaane ka Style hai
Khaana Banane ka style hai

Mere Aane ka style hai
Mere Jaane ka style hai
Ladki Ghoomane ka style hai

Mere Naam mein style hai
Mere Kaam mein style hai
Subah Shaam mein style hai

Slime of The Day

Yaad hai mujhe woh din
Jab jalaye the baal
aur giraye the chawal apni pant par
Jab Tuesday ko dekhi thi 'A Wednesday'
2:40 par pakdi thi '1:40 ki last local'
khaye the kisi ne Flowers ke petal
Main chahta tha kehna
ban gaye tum April Fool
tha woh mahina lekin December
jab giraye the chawal apni pant par
Yaad hai mujhe ....
Yaad hai mujhe ....

Grime of The Day

Ek sharif aadmi ki Frankfurt mein hui jam ke dhunai,
in do badmasho ko mujh par zara bhi daya nahi aayi,
You may ask me 'who the hell were they',
Ab kya kahoon ki yeh the Aparajita aur Samyukta ke bhai :)


.Order Reversed In, Rest The For Pointers (<- Read )
  • Aparajita and Samyukta are fictional, their brothers aren't.
  • I can croon 'Yaad Hai Mujhe' just like a certain Atif Aslam.
  • Call me StyleGuru, I hate being called a Bhai, no matter if its style related :0

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

It's a Beautiful Day

Its dark, gloomy
dull and cloudy,
windy as well
and bit chilly;
Sun probably
wont shine today
and skies will throughout
remain Grey.
As I open my umbrella
and walk leisurely
to my office
I realize,
Nice and Beautiful
were never
about day and weather.
There's a smile on my face
as I go along my way
I whistle,
'Its indeed a beautiful day'.

Thursday, December 04, 2008

A day in the life of S for Me and C for Crazy

These will be written in bulleted format (Ask 'Why').
  • Getting up an hour before the alarm rings and enjoy the feeling of being ahead of the time.
  • Office is nicely decorated and all set for tomorrow's Christmas Party.
  • Listen to Jazz with lights switched off.
  • Laziness leads to fried rice in dinner (Recipe : Prepare rice in MW, cut onions, fry the cooked rice with onion and cumin seeds in oil, add chili and salt).
  • Say 'crap' as 'keeraaaap'; its not fun but still worth trying.
  • Spend half hour to zero on the word that will be mispronounced tomorrow.
  • Take bathroom singing seriously, it motivates one for taking a bath.
  • Equating girls to evil leads to horrific results.
Ok 8 points down the line, boredom prevails; so here's finishing off with the thought of the Night.

To know everything is neither possible nor necessary.

Friday, November 28, 2008

In Times Like This, My Friend

In times likes this

I see you my friend,
helpless and stranded,
frightened, hopeless.
You cry my tears, my friend
you bleed my blood;
my pain, my agony,
you go through this all.

There's a story of your nightmare
I heard;
I experienced
the horror on your face;
terrified eyes, yours
sorrow in mine.

We are shaken as of now,
sad will follow soon;
perhaps anger as well
but from now we know
we'll never talk of hell.
I have seen one
the one you went through
the one we never knew
right next to where we dwell
My, your, Our Hell.

We are orphaned my friend
both you and me,
you on that other side
I, alone on mine
few paces, few screens away.
I see you,
my friend;
I know not
your religion,
caste, creed or nation
I only see you bleed
a red, that I know and recognize.

I am sorry my friend
for I can do nothing more
I can grief
I can mourn
go through this feeling unknown.
Is this enough
I doubt my friend,
and I have no one to ask
for we all sail in the same boat
that is struggling to stay afloat.

I hope
and I know we all do;
we know not
how it might have all started
I just pray with my eyes closed
and hands folded
that this is indeed the end
for I can't bear the times like these
as I mourn you, my unknown friend.

Monday, November 24, 2008

Trippin (My Favourite Songs)

Lets restrict this to five recent ones with sufiana flavour to them.

  • Ha Raham Farma-e-Khuda (Mehfooz) - AAMIR
Aani jaani hai kahani
Bulbule si Zindagani
Banti kabhi bigadti
Tez hawa se ladti bhidti

Armaan kare kaaya yeh ujali
Mitti mein mil jaayegi
Chahe jitni shamayein roshan kar le
Dhoop to dhal jaayegi, jaayegi

Kya mazaal teri marzi ke aage
Bando ki chal jaayegi
Thaame ungli jo tu katputli bhi
Chaal badal jaayegi, jaayegi

Ha raham, ha raham farm-e-Khuda
Mefooz har kadam karna e-khuda

Beyond words :)
  • Tose Naina Lage (Jaaveda Zindagi) - ANWAR
Two muslim characters playing Lord Krishna and Radha, what better way to celebrate the great feeling of love that goes beyond religion, region, caste or creed :)
  • Meharbaan - ADA
Tu hai nihaa (Secret), main hoon ayaan (visible),
Tu hatheli (Palm), main hoon heena (Decoration).

AR Rahman vocals, AR Rahman music, beautiful Urdu laden poetry; brings smile to one's face, peace to one's mind and makes one feel good about oneself and everything around.
  • Jiya Dhadak Dhadak Jaye - KALYUG
Simple yet mersmerizing, magical.
  • Teri Deewani - KAILASA (Kailash Kher)
Off late we have been blessed with some great composers and singers, Amit Trivedi (Aamir music director) is one and Kailash Kher is another. Beautiful composition, even better video; showing various shades of love, each as endearing as other. Add the subtle spirituality that flows underneath and here's music fulfilling its very purpose :)

Amazing songs, nothing more can be said, just listen and experience it for yourself.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

Danish White Satin

They greeted me in the morn,
The snow, the wind and the chilling cold;

"Wake up and be outside", they said,
"There's beauty spread for you to behold".


Thursday, November 20, 2008

Seven Pair of Shoes

I have seven pair of shoes
too many for a pair of legs.
Come to think of it,
I was never the one
of those spendthrift kinds,
of royal tastes,
not even fond of shoes and shines;
and yet
I have seven pair of shoes.

Would have suited me
if i were a thief by temple
or a chief with money ample.
But I am none,
neither I bought them for fun.
now that they are
it needs to be mentioned,
I have seven pair of shoes.

Two black shiny ones;
They consider themselves a class apart
always looking down on others in rack,
laughing and boasting their shiny leather
I wonder however,
if they can rough it out against the weather
like my running shoes do.
A white like a white dove
for its younger than its other bro
which is soon to be retired from the plight
that it suffers during my long walks,
sometimes I feel it even talks
in a manner that I dont understand
but it has been a good friend.

Then there's a black suede one
which isn't as graceful as the Brown
but it prides itself
for its universal charm.
No wonder its services
are more frequently called upon.
Brown suede sits looking bored
for its seldom worn.
I guess it feels
that I aint the right person to own.

there's a blue pair of soccer shoes
that I am yet to try.
They lie in their cardboard box sleeping
without making any hue and cry;
and why not,
for the place is much cosy and dry.
They might see light of the day
when one fine day I'll decide to play.

So here I am
with seven pair of shoes
that I ended up buying 'just like that',
not that I feel an itch in my feet
I think its more to do with head.
Anyways, these seven pairs
they aren't the best shoes in the world
they aren't the costliest,
they are just seven pair of shoes on my rack,
worth a few roads to walk
worth a few lines to drag.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

एक ख्याल

ऐसा क्यों है
जब जब मैं सोचता हूँ तुम्हे
तब तब तुम्हारे तसव्वुर में मेरा ख्याल उठता है|

अब साथ नही तो सही
हर बात तो अपने हक में नही
रब की मरज़ी के आगे कब कीसका बस चलता है|

Tuesday, September 09, 2008

The Blue Moon Who Died

And this is how the blue moon died
for he had fallen through the skies
to meet the one girl that he loved
the beautiful maiden who lived on earth.
She was poor, worked day and night,
in fields of maize with mist in her eyes,
and yet her beauty knew no bound
there was no one like her to found.

On one such night along with her friends
as she sang the songs of joy, clapping her hands
echoes of her laughter reached other side of the mountain
where sleeping on the white snows, lay the moon of bluish flame.
He listened to her song, her laughter
and when curiosity got the better;
out he came on his chariot of horses white
paling away the darkness of the night,
and this is when he first looked at her face
needless to say, he was left amazed.

Hiding behind the trees he watched her dance
his eyes not blinking, as if caught in a trance.
He would have continued to do the same
but for the Morning Sun who was to be blamed.
The blue moon returned to his abode in the skies
with love in his heart and sadness in his eyes.

The night that followed was not his night
and yet he appeared in the dark skies.
The village folk wondered why the moon shone
with a blueness that was never known.
Oblivion to his plight and grief, the girl slept inside her hut,
helpless moon kept looking for her, riding in his horse chariot.

Next night again burned blue, as the love struck moon flew
once again in search of his lady; pity that she didn't knew.
That night, it rained; a gentle sob with a touch of blue,
as the drops kissed the moon; but alas, the girl still didn't knew.
She would have probably never known
but for the waft who forgot his way home,
instead, through her window he came
carrying with him, a blue drop of rain.
As she lay on her bed, her eyes closed
it was her palm on which he dropped
that tear of the moon, that drop of blue
and away he went, to his home he flew.

The blue flame was all so soft
but the girl woke up and looked at the drop.
Bemused she looked outside the window
rain still falling with the blue glow.
It was then that she realized, this isn't any other night
slowly she went outside, with mixed emotions of fear and delight,
She let the blue tears kiss her face
and looked at the heavens with divine grace.
Up from the skies, he saw her again
and he didn't knew if he should smile or cry of pain.
But he knew where lay his destiny
with the pretty maid from the realms earthly.
He was not a god anymore
he was not the moon that existed before,
out he stepped from his chariot white
and fell through the depth of the skies.

They still tell this tale of his
Of those three nights of eternal bliss
when they all had seen a moon so blue
up from the skies who had fallen through.

Images courtesy:

Thursday, August 14, 2008


Ours is a generation that grew up watching TV serials like Vikram Betaal, Dada Dadi ki Kahaniyan and Singhasan Battisi. But now it seems long ago. I faintly remember that Raja Bhoj was played by Vijay Arora but dont recall who played Vikramaditya (was it Arun Govil).
Recently, during my trip to India, I picked the book from a Indian Railway Bookstall. It was like revisiting the past, not that I recalled the stories, but still it was a soothing sense of associated deja vu. Here in this post I list the names of the Thirty Two fairies that relate the story of King Vikramaditya's righteousness, justice and valour as King Bhoj tries to ascend the mystic throne of mighty King Vikramaditya.
  1. RatnaManjari
  2. Chitralekha
  3. Satyabhama
  4. Chandrakala
  5. Leelavati
  6. kaamkandala
  7. Kaumudi
  8. Pushpawati
  9. Madhumalati
  10. Premawati
  11. Padmawati
  12. Keertiwati
  13. Trilochani
  14. Trilochana
  15. Anoopwati
  16. Sundarwati
  17. Satyawati
  18. Rooprekha
  19. Tara
  20. Chandrajyoti
  21. Anurodhwati
  22. Anuprekha
  23. Karunawati
  24. Chitrakala
  25. Jailakshmi
  26. Vidhyawati
  27. Jagajyoti
  28. Manmohini
  29. Vaidehi
  30. Roopwati
  31. Kaushalya
  32. Bhanumati
Having listed these names, I should point out that these are not based on the version that I have read. The version I had was one published by Dheeraj Pocket Books and some of the names were missing from this version. On googling around, I came across another list of names; this particular version was published by Manoj Publications and had names of all 32 fairies. However when I tried to compare the names I found that some of them mismatched in sequence, further some of the names which were quoted in one were not to be found in the other. Finally my curiosity and Google power prevailed and I came across the 1920 version of Brijvallabh Hariprasad in Native Opinion Publication. This and several other great works of Indian literature are available on Digital Library of India. I am sure curious readers and Hindi enthusiasts will find this information useful, perhaps someone will also take up the cause and start a Wikipedia Article :)

Saturday, August 02, 2008

Amarjeet Kaypee

There always have been stories of 'have beens' who never got their due. In the world of Indian cricket, few names are always talked about in this context, names like K.P. Bhaskar, Rajinder Goel and that of Amarjeet Kaypee.
One of my childhood activities involved reading meticulously domestic cricket scores in the newspaper. It was this way that I first came across Kaypee's name, a name that will keep on figuring prominently again and again on regular basis. I always thought that one day this guy will play for the Country; he never did. And like Kaypee himself, I could never figure out why. I never saw Kaypee play in real, not even on TV, but I always had high regards for him. He was like those Heroes of Childhood who never fade from your memory no matter what. So if you now come to me and tell me the reasons for his non-inclusion and they might all be valid as well, I wonder that my views about Kaypee will change any how.
You can always find information about Kaypee on sites like Cricinfo and Wikipedia, but this was not supposed to be his biography, this is just a fan's respect to one of his childhood hero, who was, as that article on Cricinfo said, A dedicated cricketer that never got his due.