A life, half lived

Nothing worth mourning over 

Nothing worth remembering

In a life, half lived

My life, half lived

Sporadic fits and reluctant spurts 

Sprinkled along endless lows 

In a life, half lived

My life, half lived

Actors went through the motions

And a bystander left on his stage

In a life, half lived

My life, half lived

Curious awkwardness at best 

Drowning numbness at the end 

In a life, half lived

My life, half lived

All That's Left

Is there a sign somewhere
of my existence, any semblance of life,

besides this everlasting numbness?

Did I ever have a dimension

a depth, may be, even if unfathomable

besides this make-believe veneer?

Have the eons just passed
with no impression, forget a trace
besides this blasé apathy?

Maybe there was something, may be not

all that's left, is a hint of moisture

in the corner of the eye.

Want to say something today

Wanted to say something today. Was searching for words in the depth of my thoughts, could only find borrowed ones; but then who am I to better these:

"Ek din zindagi ke ro-ba-roo aa baithe, zindagi ne poocha – dard kya hai, kyun hota hai, kahan hota hai ye bhi to pata nahi chalta
Tanhai kya hai akhir, kitne log to hain yahan – phir tanha kyun ho
Mera chehra dekh kar zindagi ne kaha – main tumhari judwa hoon, mujhse naraaz na hua karo"


Tujhse naaraaz nahi zindagi, hairaan hoon main
Tere masoom sawalon se pareshaan hoon main

Jeene ke liye socha hi na tha, dard sambhalne honge
Muskuraoon to, muskurane ke karz utaarne honge
Muskuraoon kabhi toh lagta hai
Jaise honthon pe karz rakhaa hai
Tujhse naraaz…

Aaj agar bhar ayi hai, boondein baras jaayengi
Kal kya pata inke liye aakhen taras jayengi
Jane kab gum hua, kahan khoya, ek aanson chhupa ke rakha tha
Tujhse naraaz…

Zindagi tere gham ne hamein rishte naye samjhaye
Mile jo hamein dhoop main mile chhaanv ke thande saaye
Tujhse naraaz…

Since we are at it, updates from my side since last post: got married, got the probable reasons for me being me, a degree, a job, a new city, a new life, everything !! ha !!

Me, myself and you

That day, playing around the park,
I felt, I'm no longer a child.
With no school, no parenting
I had a will of my own.
A grown up, a man I had become,
free finally, not to be reared.
I wanted to shout it out,
announce my arrival.
Feel the joy
and make it known.
I'm one of the club,
I have a say.

Realization then came,
of not knowing myself.
Of an existence, a being,
different from my reflection.
Yes, I could talk but not to myself.
Scold, yes. A number of times.
Consult my hidden fears,
ask them if they are comfortable.
But was devoid of words,
of thoughts to convey
to myself, to the world .

Not until I saw you fighting,
to pull off me, my cloak of silence.
Grappling with my resistance,
huffing, puffing and ranting.
But never giving up,
like a stubborn child.
That I talked to myself about,
how my desires still had hope.
Of getting unveiled,
of finding an expression.
Spring was tiptoeing towards me
from an unknown direction.

Tears of the sun

I want to cry the whole night today,
cry into the hollows of broken dreams,
for eerie haunting carcasses of vanquished hopes,
to deafen the depths of this unending silence.

But how can I?
I'm a grown up man,
with a stong will,
a power to ride over emotions,
a strength to wipe my own tears.

I want to throw this mask away,
that I have donned for eons now.
I want to be weak for a moment,
for the burden of strength is too heavy.
I want to cry, to laugh, to play, to fall down,
to rise awkwardly, to be a fool again, as a child.

But how can I?
I'm a grown up man.
With wisdom my forte,
I stand tall after my failures,
heartless, stoic, unruffled.

What if I want to have a heart,
for a moment, just for once?

Is mod se jate hain

The vagaries of life have not allowed me to think about it for a long time now, which is reflected in no posts lately. As I do not expect myself to write anything worthwhile soon, I am filling the gap with an interpretation of one of my favorite songs, penned by Gulzar. The words explaining the meaning are mine but the core idea is 'tap-ed' from a post in the Gulzar community at Orkut.

_________________________________________________
Is mod se jaate hai – Aandhi

Is mod se jaate hain
kuch sust kadam raste, kuch tez kadam raahe
patthar kee hawelee ko, sheeshe ke gharondo me
tinkon ke nasheman tak, is mod se jaate hai…

Sanjeev and Suchitra, just starting their lives together ("mod" refers to a point in life), are thinking about various paths and destinations that lie ahead. "sust kadam" (laid back) and "tez kadam" (go-getter) are the ways that they may take in future. Both are aware that depending on the path that they choose, they may land up at different places -- in a "pathar ki haveli" (relationship with a strong foundation), "sheeshey ka ghronda" (a fragile one) or "tinkon ka nasheman" (nasheman = nest, a temporary fling).

aandhee kee tarah udakar, ek raah gujaratee hai
sharamaatee huyee koi, kadamo se utaratee hai
in reshamee raaho me, ek raah to wo hogee
tum tak jo pahuchatee hai, is mod se jaate hai..

ek door se aatee hai, paas aake palatatee hai
ek raah akelee see, rukatee hain naa chalatee hai
ye soch ke baithhee hoon, yek raah to wo hogee
tum tak jo pahuchatee hai, is mod se jaate hai..

"aandhi ki tarah udkar" (filled with passion), "sharmaate hui koi, kadamo se utarti hai" (shy), "ek door se aati hai, pass aake palatatee hai" (whimsical) , "ek raah akeli se, rukti hai na chalti hai" (slow, steady) -- Having so many ways to approach their nascent relationship, they share with each other the 'pleasant anxiety' that is teasing them and wonder, "There must be some way that leads to you".
_________________________________________________
Marvellous, isn't it ?

Where ??

Continuing from here, here and here, this is another one in the series :

Not on the ground, not up there anywhere,
not a burning phoenix, not a shimmering glare.

Drenched, overwhelmed by rain's might,
stands the uninitiated, battling for light.

Thinks of a struggle, then thinks why,
the how of it, and above all by.

Thus stands there, with a longing trace,
buried deep beneath, shadows of his face.

O divinity! bless him the question,
the answers he needs,'n doubts he can shun.

--Not a pensive resignation this time, but an honest acknowledgement