Monday, August 04, 2014

I often get this feeling I’m “into” poems because I can’t “do” them right myself. Just how we fall for the things and people we can’t be but secretly somehow crave to borrow some part of. To be a poet is pressure itself when you know there’s none coming out even for all the poetry that goes about. And then, your mediocrity is shaken up by one extraordinary masterpiece you come across, in occurrence or in words, which suddenly reveals itself with such force of its forceless being that you are left numinous yet numb. Part of your spirit sparks up from its stoned slumber to answer the call that showed it what amazing is meant to be, and the other half wonders if you can ever get there, or if genius is not meant to be your journey. The war of the two states, however, does one thing beautifully. It takes your mind off the mundane. The lunch, however lovely, cooks itself without thought and the house, messy or clean, must remain happily in its condition. Once a while, the plants prove good distraction. But mostly, it is the search for the extraordinary and the dilemma of being the ordinary that your life blissfully – and disturbingly – engages itself in.

Wednesday, July 16, 2014


Zabiin se chhoo sako
To chakh lo saundh
Neem ki dhurriyan
Maano ittar maafiq
Matmailae aur genhue mein
Jo fark hai
Sare ka sara bikher ke
mehaa ne
Phir zindagi na simtaane ki hidayat di hai dekho

Monday, June 09, 2014

Stories are us

X: "Have you ever been caught in a sphere where all that concerns you is your personal work
      and you are not able to do an iota about it? Not able to move a limb...caught in a limbo!

      And all life moves sideways continuous?"

Y: "Yes. Right now. All i can think about is writing and i can do everything but that. Its the perfect deadening limbo!"

X: "i see"

Y: "And yes everything is moving so wonderfully"

X: "And you have lots to write. and not a finger moves!!"

Y: "Yes"

X: "You dream and wake up often, you don't know what sound sleep looks like"

Y: "Not fighting the fight...yes"

X: "You are not at conflict but you are not at peace either ~"

Y: "Yes"

X: "Your eyesight is suffering with so much gazing at everything & at times you feel that                   whatever you speak to yourself...even if you write bits of'd be awed!!"

Y:  "..."

X: "but somehow...nothing happens"

Y: "Yes...and you'd lose yourself so eternally, you won't be able to return.

      & perhaps you wouldn't want to...

      No? "

X: "..."

Y: "Yes..
      Nothingness happens"

Wednesday, May 07, 2014


Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Overjoyed is not Over-rated

May be

It does lie
In the small things

The 'joy'
As they say it does.

That famous japanese author...
Also says this

It lies in the most ordinary things.
In the utmost ordinary thing you can find.

Is not found

Anywhere in planning a 7 month long hectic travel schedule,

Is found

In explaining the actual meaning of 'rhythm' to a budding dancer

Who hopes.

Is not found

In procrastination
Neither in dreams cast of the day's fears built upon doing nothing
But procrastinating

Is found

In playing the guitar with a string less, a string which was never bought
To un-tie the 'string' otherwise.

Is Permanent

Like melody in the voice of 'Janelle Monae'

And crimson
Like the sunrise paintings
From the school art classes.

'May be..'

Joy is
All the hopeful may be's
and sometimes found

in the &

instead of the and.

Monday, April 14, 2014

Aur phir yun hua