Something about life

When do you know you have grown up?   When the urge to hurt back is so high, That your temples are throbbing. You cannot breath and you can feel the blood rising in your veins. All you want is, to give them the taste of their own medicine.   You know you have not done anything wrong, At least not enough to get it on your face. You can prove yourself right and shred the argument Even shred the other person into pieces.   You have never been talked back to, And here you are, being screamed at. Being humiliated, and how!   And you take it all, not ‘give it back’ Walk away, because that is the only graceful thing to do. Get that dirt off your shoulder, After all, no one is worth it!   Yes, you have grown up.   More so, when ‘he’ walks in the room Takes your face in his palms And asks for forgiveness. Forgiveness for not being able to protect you. For not standing up and punchin...

Dear daughter I realized that no matter how good an advice I give you, it will take you around two and a half decades to appreciate it. Your dad will be your hero. His words will matter more to you, no matter how shallow they are. I am not complaining. I chose a father for you whose words and intentions I blindly trust. Besides, I did the same to your grandmother. So I have earned it I guess. Then why am I writing this letter? Because letters are forever, and so would be my love for you. (And I read another letter written by a friend to his daughter. Let me tell you, worship them all you want but fathers just can not convey it that well. Remember their love, warmth and the freedom they give you, cherish all the times he will fight with me to take your side. But then, some things are better left to mothers. ) I know all my intentions to be a cool mum will go down the drain. The side effect of love is fear. Fear of losing the loved one, fear of getting them hurt. And this fear t...

बिस्तर का तुम्हारा कोना अब मेरे कपड़ों और किताबों की बेतरतीबी की आजादी है। TV के channel बदलते रहने की तुम्हारी परेशान करने वाली आदत से छुटकारा है remote मेरे हाथ में होना। खिचड़ी में पानी का कभी सही अँदाजा ना होने कि कमजोरी का कोई मजाक नहीं उड़ाता। अलार्म के साथ ही शुरु हो जाने वाली तुम्हारी live commentary की जगह मुझ सी शाँत हुआ करती हैं मेरी सुबहें। रात के उस सपने से डर कर उठ जाने की मेरी आदत गयी नहीं अब तक। पर अब सर सहला कर , मुझे सुलाने की नाकाम कोशिश में , मेरे कानों में खर्राटे लेते , कोई खुद नहीं सो जाता। और इस आजादी को जीते हुए , लगता है , पूरा agreement पढ़ने वाली मैं , Terms and conditions पढ़ना भूल गई।

ये जो तुम्हारे पास होने और न होने के बीच का अंतर है , ये दिवार पे पड़ी दरार सा हो गया है। खिड़की नहीं , केवल दरार। खिड़की तो होती ही है कि बाहर की धूप हवा अंदर आए और कैद सी उमस खत्म हो जाए। पर दरार ? वो तो चुप सी सीमांए लांघ जाती है। कुछ बदल जाता है कमरे में। कमरा भी नहीं जानता क्या। ज़रा सी धूप मिट्टी सरक ही आती है और कमरे की घुटन ज़रा सी छटपटाती है। और इस लेनदेन के बाद , कमरा कुछ और सील सा जाता है , खुद को , थोड़ा और अकेला पाता है।

You are chocolate flavored cupcake in the bakery shop, In the world of formal shoes, you are my flipflop! You are the scent of fabric conditioner, on freshly washed sheet! In those indie songs I listen to, you are my favorite beat! You are the warmth of the sun at eleven on a sunny day, You are my favorite verse of all the things I say! You are the oversized, cozy sweatshirt of mine, You are the reddest of the red wine. You are the fragrance of baby soap on my skin at night, In these confusing left lanes, you are always right. You are the joy of finding an old note in a book. You are the 'plain' maggi that you cook. You are a cuppa on a rainy afternoon, You are the coolness of nightly sand dune.