Pathar

Aaj pathar ko bhi,
Aanshoo bahaate dekha tha.

Aaj pathar ko bhi,
pighalte dekha tha.

Aaj hridhya-vihin ko,
Hridhya Vidaarak hote dekha tha.

Aaj jeevan se bekhabar ko,
Jeevan ke dard ko samjhte dekha tha.

Aaj usko aapne Tukdoein mein,
Aapne ko khojte dekha tha.

Parchhaiyan

Parchhaiyan, jo roshni mein hamesha saath rehti hai. Lekin jaise, jaise andhera badhaine lagta hai, durr hoti jati hai aapne se hi. Jaab zaruraat hoti hai, tab hi kahi kho jati hai. Anokhi hai yeh parchhaiye.
Saath chalne ka vaada to karti hai, lekin aapni bebasi mein khud hi kho jati hai. Roshni mein khud ko kaala karke aapne hone ka bodh karati hai lekin jaab andhera aata hai to uske rang mein rang jati hai yeh parchhaiyan. Kitni ajeeb hai yeh parchhaiyan.
Kya abhaash karati hai, ya phir kahein ki kya bataana chaahati hai yeh parchhaiyan? Kitna samajhate hai hum aapne humsafar ko kabhi soacha hai? Bina kuch kahein bus saath chalti hai, aur raha badaalne par woh rehte hue bhi, aapne ko aapne mein sama leti hai...... yeh parchhaiyan.

---%^&$#@(*&)(+++

Destruction is the birth of creation. From mythologies to contemporary, from first apocalypse to tsunami take any example and that will tell the truth. And in the way of this foundation lies beautiful phase called chaos. Chaos which is making of future from unrelated entities trying to create relation. A relation which can speak of a creation. A creation which get acknowledged by the people without any relation to what has gone in its making.

Kitne Ajeeb…..

Kitne Ajeeb, Rishte hai yahan par Pal mein bichadte hai, Pal mein milte hai Khushi se bekhabar, Ghamoein ko rasta dete hai Kitne Ajeeb, Rishte hai yahan par Kitne Ajeeb….. Kal to jaane the, Aaj ajnaabi hai Chayoein mein bhi, Dhoop ka, ehsaas dete hai, Kitne ajeeb, Rishte hai yeh par Kitne Ajeeb….. Sapanoein mein milte, Haqeqat mein kho jate hai Do pal ko saath chalte hai, Phir saath badalte Kitne ajeeb, Rishte hai yeh par Kitne Ajeeb…..

Saal Jaana Anjaana

Saal Jaana Anjaana

Saal ke is aakhri din,
Soach raha tha...
Is saal ke agosh mein..
Kya khoya , aur kya paya..

Paal paal badalti parchaiyo mein,
Kitne aks ko pehchan paya..
Aur kitno ko doophaar ke suraj..
mein kho diya...

Soach raaha,

Aaj is saal ke aakhri laamhoein mein.

Akela betha, baandh kamre mein,
Vichro ki dristi mein,
Beete hue laamhoein ko jee raha tha...

Dhundh mein dhootha tha,

Phir se chamakte Sooraj ko..

Aaj is saal ke aakhri laamhoein mein.

Soach raha tha....
Kya tha is saal mein,
Aur kya nahi tha ...
Jiski aasha mein aanewale..
Saal se rakhoein...
Jinhe mein aane wale,
Bhavisya mein dhoondo...

Sex...seeds....ideas...

Excerpt from "Mr. GOD, This is Anna" by Fynn

" I got the idea that she was trying to put over. All the universe has got a sex-like quality about it. It is seminal and productive at the same time. The seeds of words produce ideas. The seed of ideas produce goodness knows what. The whole blessed thing is male and female at one and the same time. In fact, the whole thing is pure sex, or made it selfconscious and called it Sex. But that was or own fault, wasn't it?"

A day in the life of Saurabh Chaturvedi

Phase I:
Today something abnormal happen with me. May be most of the people will be not agreeing with me. After long time, I slept in afternoon..... I still can't remember, when this strange phenomenon happens to me last..... But today, on auspicious day of Saturday, this lightening bolt named as sleep, strikes me effortlessly and I just find strange calmness in its laps.
Its not easy, but I achieve this state of unconsciousness for four hours. A feat which I am always going to be proud of, though its happen so naturally. This natural phenomenon doesn't happen in so simple way as it seems. I have given enough preparation by getting all curtains down, putting fan on and then gone under cozy layer of blanket which seems to me like snow flakes on leaves of chiner.

Phase II:
In state of this strange phenomenon, my phone as my savior, pulls me out to the real world. And by six, I am ready for my good night. No ... No ... No ... not for sleep dear, but for the Bangalore Habba. At last, I got a pass for it. Evening starts with Pt. Shivkumar Sharma. With first sound of santoor, it gives me feeling of ice which melts down with first ray of sun to add a drop to a river. Each santoor wave, make me suave like leaves with zephr.
Next in line is fashion show and this is time for give some food for surviving. Nice gamut of food is arrange in food court. This time beer and wine also on sale. To satisfy my appetite, I fall for akki roti and Jolarade roti oota. After nice music, its nice food which makes soul and body in synch and that's heavenly feeling I have after having the food.
Now, its time for "String". Yup, you guess it right, "That Pakistani band who recorded track for spiderman". They really make the crowd freak with there soft and rock numbers. Crowd is just moving with them, as if Strings are just touch each individual heart strings. Best part is, I have heard not a single number except sometimes, one or two tracks, which I catched on television. And then also, I am able to sing with them. Lyrics are automatically creating in my volatile mind.
After rocking for an hour its time for some calmness as mid night is falling and temperature is falling down too..... Its time to remember Allah Hoo. Sufi music sets down on stage. This is really icing on the cake for night. All hit songs of Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan are chosen for dawning the beautiful night. Its nice to enjoy such contrast- Strings to Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan with just ten minutes of gap.
Each day has to end for lay down path for another brand new day, So this too. Bye Saturday.... Hope, I can see you again. Though, I know its not possible.............

HumKhayaal

HumKhayaal Khayaal means thoughts. People who understands your thoughts become your "HumKhayaal".

There is always a first time

I am sitting in zero g with my friends, and just before we left that place... DJ put one song, whose only line I am able to comprehend is " There is always a first time". And this just strike me like ten thousand lightening storms. And result of this storm taken a shape of poem. So true in itself, "there is always a first time". Isn't it?

There is always a first time

first time of love,

first time of betray.

first time of light,

first time of dark.

there is always a first time.....

first time of smile,

first time of cry.

first time of innocence,

first time of vile.

there is always a first time.....

first time of normalcy,

first time of absurdity.

first time of perfect,

first time of abstract.

first time of egotism,

first time of self pride.

there is always a first time.....

the first hug,

the first parting away.

the first tears of joy,

the first tears of cry.

there is always a first time.....

the first sense of individuality,

the first sense of dependency.

the first sense of a free bird,

the first sense of constraints.

There is always a first time.....

Tumhari Amrita

Today, atlast, i am able to fullfill one of my wish which is getting stronger with the time..... six years..."Tumhari Amrita" yehi naam hai meri us wish ka....

This is the play based on english play where characters just set on the stage and read down there letters..... just plain letters... Are they really plain???

This play is story of intense unfullfilled love ( one sided , though Amrita deny this.... but thats the reality). It clearly depicts how intense a woman can love..... and how dumb or I should say how comfortably man can make himself ignorant of such toranado of feelings.... It portrays shades of woman who just want love.... And idiot man never understand it and always given excuses of constraint for denial .... but gets what he wants..... Its depict a person's dynamicism and same time comfortable adaptablity of other..... It depicts thirty five years of emotions wrapped in mist waiting for ray of sun.... just one ray of sun.....

Yehi hai mere vicharoein ki "Tumhari Amrita".......