Write write write.

Sitting, and sipping the Hot Nescafe here I am, writing for the heck of it. Okay, correction, it’s not Hot, it’s rather Warm since I don’t really drink Hot tea/coffee, I atleast give it ten minutes to cool down from its boiling point.

Write write write. But what? I have no idea; I have no thoughts, nothing in particular happening that I would like to share. Other then that, if anyone cares, I finished ‘Deception Point’ and already started ‘Angels and Demons’ by Dan Brown. After this just one more book to go by Mr. Brown. And in future, I will list his name in my Must Read Authors.

Hmmmmm.

Enough few lines for the post?

Aai mehboob merey...

Aai mehboob merey..
ye kis dar la khara kia?
na jewan hai, na maran hai
na chain,... na mukhtal

konain ki bhi hadoon se agay..
ik ajab jannat bassi hai jahan
mei khud ko aseer pata hun..

jesay zinda mujassim..
muhtaj hai dharkanon ka
apni roh ko mei...
teri deedni ka faqeer pata hun

aai balam...
mein talib-e-tarahum hun
rihai ka, ...barda-e-tanhai se...
matloob hai sangum mujhay
ramish,...deed teri...
mera jism,..meri roh
kashkol hai bus,...aai dayyak..
aai mehboob merey...
bhar day meri pyasi banhon ko
abreshmi badan se apnay...
nazakat-e-tarrahi sa namona,
deda-e-zaib kamar...
sudaul sa surmai wajood tera...
thaam lon...akwar lon

teri bay tarteeb sansain
meri bay tarteeb dharkanain
tera larazta,..nigar badan
merey laraztay,..dhahaktay lab...
faslay,.. mitatay chalain...

gulab rukhsaron ke uper
mukallal se nain tere
multamis hun mein bus...
un ki ik nazar ka
majzoob kefiyat se...
miftah-e-rihai ka...
aai mehboob mere...
mei talib,... tu mauhib
mei faqr,... tu muwaqur
narwa hai khluot buhut
mujh ko humayon ker day....
aai mehboob merey.

Feb 20th 2006. 2:30 AM

The Da Vinci Code.

After all the hype about the book I thought I will give it a try. And, after a long time, I managed to complete a book – that too, in four days. So yes, I will put the book’s name in one of the finest reads.

I am not going to write about the book, as much has been discussed all over the net and blogs. I will just add my name in the list of the victims, of the, The Da Vinci Code.

Bits and pieces.

• There are always some major points in your life that shape the way you think, change it completely or amend the thought process. It doesn’t mean the way you speak, walk or write apparently changes but the way you look at things becomes totally different. I think – January 2006 is one of those points in my life.

• Things that deeply impact your life does not need to be extraordinaire, it can be a small event, or just few words someone delivered; and it don’t even have to be directed towards you.

• Conversation between two people can make you realize how important someone is, to you. And how you would like to live your life, for them.

• Relationships have become more important to me. Separation is a fact of life in one form or the other – in this short life people are, to be united and loved; and not divided or detested.

• There is no relationship between two persons but relation itself is a separate entity and we, the people, are the links in it. Firm relation needs to ensure every link in the whole chain is strong; and sometimes being strong means – being flexible.

• I will have to live with some vacuities in my life, and there is no escape. I have imagined longing eyes waiting for some of the loved ones but before they arrive, angel of death finds her.

Different world.

The world that already seems to be normal again is not the same as it used to be; and the feeling of being convinced, of being hapless. I have lived years in disquiet because I was too young to be told that my grandfather passed away (in my folks view) but I feel I rather had to know. I wasn’t there when my grandmother (dadi) died – and yet it had to happen again at the time when I desperately didn’t want it to.

My Nani passed away too. I am not saying I wasn’t ready, but, just one last chat, to tell her now she really looked old; or to lie, things will get better again soon. Having lived with her in my childhood we shared a bond and lots of memories. Her comfy lap that I have slept into thousands of times, breakfasts in winter with butter, honey, tea and her paratha’s and my argument on making my paratha myself. The world’s most relaxing head massage one can ever had was from her hands and none of it has left.

Previously – and today, I have spent minutes (if not hours) looking at the cursor – or the keyboard, lost in scattered thoughts which bring either a dead smile on my lips or is strong enough to ache and make my eyes wet. But I have failed to bring them into words and I know – I will never be.