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सूरज से गुफ्तगू #13

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कभी कभी जब अकेले रोती हूँ
तो रातो को भी तेरा इंतज़ार करती हूँ
कभी कभी, जब अकेले में सोती हूँ
तो खुद की उंगलियों से यु सिलवटे तेरी बना जाती हूँ
तेरे बाहों में सिमटना चाहती हूँ
कुछ देर ही सही, तुजसे दिल का हर राज़ कहना चाहती हूँ.
तू समझता नहीं मेरी प्यास को
तू बस जलना जनता है
तू कभी आता नहीं बेवजह बेवक़्त रात को
तू सिर्फ जलाना जो जनता है.

कुछ और गुफ्तगू: सूरज से गुफ्तगू #12

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Moorings.

 

Weekends shouldn’t be about going out, partying, trashing, shopping, dining, and tiring yourself. They should be about the things that you would want to do otherwise. It should be about, well, honestly my answer changes as frequently as the illogical and unwanted threats, thrown by people who might run a country and yet wouldn’t know how to run a country. So, if you asked me last month what are weekends for, I would have told you the very thing that I denied when I began writing this. I would scream and holler in insta accent “Partay” or “friyay” but this weekend was the reflection of the other shades of me. All I wanted to do was to sit at home, avoid people and read. I did everything else but this.

 

So with a sullen and putrid mood I met a friend and we were waiting for our Uber when she tells me “phones inside”. This was supposed to be our one on one so no phones were allowed. Okay, I wasn’t looking at my phone. And she was the one who had this habit. But I was the one who was being told to keep it inside. I didn’t have a bag or a wallet on me. I had the needed cash in my pockets and thanks to the sizes of the new phones, my phone won’t fit in my pockets. So I said. And so she indicated at her own pockets when I refused to do anything about it. I thought what the hell, is she wearing her boyfriends’ pants? I mean no other way did her phone fit in there. I wonder why is this? I mean why do they do this? Why do men’s pants have pockets the size, which can fit a wallet, keys, sanitizer, kerchief, condoms, phones and what not. I have seen men carrying almost everything that women do, there is nothing different. Yes, except from a sanitary pad, I guess the needs are pretty much the same. Then why in the name of God do they do this to us poor souls? Not all women like carrying bags just as not every man likes not carrying a bag. So, yeah, my friend, she indicated that she could fit her phone in her pocket so I did ask her why and how. She said, this is what you get for not going after brand names and gave me a wink. So now I was wrong in wearing a branded pair of denim! Great!!!

 

But this pocket and bags thing remind me of one other thing. I guess big pockets or not I think I should start carrying a bag always. I mean there is the possibility of my mom calling me here and now and asking me to bring so and so and so things. I tell you the list goes on. Tell me why is it that moms need so much stuff from stores. Okay, don’t tell me. I have asked this a million times and I have got the same answer. You will know when you become a mom. Believe you me, I am in no hurry! Yeah, so she calls me randomly and then there is this store called reliance fresh on my way and I go in and buy those things on the whatsapp message that my mom stresses on sending despite the fact that she just called me and then I realize that I don’t have anything to carry this in. So I ask for a bag and he generously adds 14 bucks for it. This could happen to you too. I remind myself that the next time I am not leaving my house without a bag. I mean yeah sometimes you forget to carry bags, and then the stores make you pay for it and then it is all-fine. But 14 bucks for a plain ‘jhola’ isn’t what I intend on paying again.

 

But that ‘jhola’ and its gloomy look is still better than the goofy smile that that boy gives me on the third floor of my building. He is new. Just shifted. I hate it when they bring such tenants. And by such I mean bachelors. Not that these bachelors are disturbing. Far from it. They are dull bloody boring engineers and I hate it. I hate them not because they live a life of a bachelor but because they are bored engineers who have nothing in their lives except for work. I see them going early in the mornings, dressed formally and return in the night with such dead looks as if nothing is left in their lives. I pity them. But the pity lasts only till I see one of them with that big bright smile of his. Why? Why does he creep me out? And since he is a neighbor now I am forced to smile back which leads to an even bigger smile. Okay fine so from now I am going to avoid coming and going when he comes. Yes, that’s what I am going to do.

 

But I don’t like how he looks. I mean not how he looks-looks, I mean how empty he looks. As if he has nothing left in his life except for work. I have heard him talk over the phone sometimes, dull mundane talks, not that I was spying. He was in his verandah. I was in mine. He was loud enough. I tell you, he could be nothing more than 30 and the way he lives! I guess isolation does that to people. Yes, it must be isolation. That friend of mine? With whom I was waiting for an uber she has made me believe 100% that you mess up your own life when you are so lonely. It makes you do things that a sane mind would otherwise not do. Yes that is it, he is and my friend is lonely! But who isn’t today. Aren’t we all living in the phase where we have only happy pictures not a happy life?

 

Yes, that is true. The 15 year old who put a picture of his new haircut, with that ‘lit’ emoji tags his picture with the quote, “life is hard.” So it must be. Yes, it definitely must be. Life is lonely and hard. So do you think I should become a matchmaker and make my friend meet this engineer guy? Could work, right? I should believe so.

 

But then people believe in a lot of things these days. The man following me on the road the other day must have thought so. I mean he must have really believed that something could happen here, between him and me. Only then would he have driven around town, wasting his fuel, for a whole 30 minutes in the same area again and again. God! It took him 30 minutes to realize that I wasn’t going to stop driving until he stopped following. What was I? Some frenzied woman who would show him way to my home? No! So, I kept driving here and there and he kept following. I wonder how his mind was working? That he would follow me to my home and then since he will have my address he will come to my place again and again and then just like it happens in romantic movies, I will blush and smile and fall for him? I guess so. I think this is the only explanation, only hope for which he must have wasted his life’s 30 minutes after me.

 

Hey, this reminds me the other day I went on my walk and saw someone following me. A very old uncle this time. I was creped. He smiled too. Look at the audacity. But as soon as he passed me it struck me. He wasn’t smiling in a way I was thinking; he was a very old man. He was a guard someplace. I knew him. Yes, it struck me then that he was the guard at my old school and I didn’t smile back. He was the cute guard who held our hands and helped crossed the roads. And I didn’t recognize him, I didn’t smile back. I didn’t even acknowledge him. And so now I am one of those snobs who forget those cute people as they grow up. At least he must think so. See, these pervs do this to you. Ruin every other man for you in every possible way.

 

But among all of this there is something good too. I mean of course our world if full of people whom I (I don’t know about you) abhor but there are little perks of joy in and around too. So as I was telling you about my walks, I have missed something about it of late. There is the cutest little girl who ties two pony tails and stand beside her dad everyday at the same place, same time, waiting for her school bus, looking right in front of her with such command and precision that I’d be mad not to admire her. There is something about that look, command may be or endurance? But as soon as she sees me she will be smiling back at me as if there was no other look in the world that she knows. Her dad once asked her, “Who are you smiling at, Do you know her?” And she just said, “That di”. I mean isn’t she cute. I hope she doesn’t do this with everyone though. Her dad smiles back too since then. But they had been missing since so many days. They are back! Yeaaaaaa they are back and that smile is back. I didn’t realize till now how much I had been habituated to her. My walks have been better since the return of my waving friend.

 

But don’t you think one day this is going to stop. Either I will stop going to walks on that route or she will start driving to school herself. She doesn’t look far from that age. I guess that is how this works, isn’t it. I mean of course nothing is permanent except change. This brings me to another question, if nothing is permanent then what about love? Isn’t it the only thing that doesn’t wither? Isn’t true love the only thing that can beat and overcome anything? Who am I to say? What would I know? You tell me!

 

But then again who would know anything of true love, I wouldn’t. Would you? Hard to say. I mean I saw three relationships breaking in the last week. In just one week I saw three couples go their way, couples who had been together for years, couples who were mature and immature. One of them, a couple I mean has been dragging their drama to me too. This couple generously falls in the category of immature. Well, that is how I see it. So yeah, they have been dragging and pulling at threads and I am stuck in between. Initially, it is fine you know. You think they are your friends ad it would be only good if you could kick some little sense in their rusty mind, but no they won’t get it. They will carry every drab fight to you, as if they are the kids and I am the parent. So I got fed up and wanted to scream, “Dude, if I wanted this kind of drama in my life, I would be in this sort of a relationship myself. I don’t want this shona-babu-baby which is why I am not in this kind of a relationship. Please…. Let me be. I was not in that relationship, you were, I cannot do anything, you can.” But I guess troubled minds don’t get this simple language. Well, but if they don’t get such simple things then why do they get in a relationship? Why do they play the game called feelings?

 

Oh, I got carried away, didn’t I? Became too philosophical, did it? Okay, don’t answer that. I know you won’t. Because even you don’t have any answers. I know you don’t. Well at least my cousin makes me realize that you don’t, I don’t, no one has these answers. Drunk on self-pity after crying for a whole half hour I decided I’ll call her and vent everything that’s bottled within. But before I could muster a dreary and mucus filled hello she started crying! Okay, old story Moushmi! Clear your head and start listening, this doesn’t sound good! Something’s up. And so just like every time you shut up and listen making yourself believe that it is probably for the best not to talk to anyone about it. So, yeah don’t even think about it again. But boy, is she messed up! Well, didn’t I say messed up people and solitariness makes people do things, weird things! Anyways, who am I to judge?

 

By the way, judgment reminds me of one thing. The thing because of which I stared writing this.  No, no not the weekend plans. But my kind of weekend for this week. Books. Enough with the ramblings, and before you kill me let me jump straight, without any glitches in between and without any diversion that could hinder my asking you this very small petite question. What do you do if you don’t like the book that you are reading? I mean I am always torn between leaving the book that I start disbelieving in and my love for reading, simply saying, “They are books, how can you leave them midway?” So far in my entire life there has been only one book that I have left after 100 pages and I don’t even remember which book it was. Isn’t life too short to waste on books that you start disliking? But then again, how do you know if you like it or not unless you read it. But what if you not only don’t like it, you hate it, and you just don’t believe in what the author is saying, he/she is just going round and round and round without making a point just as I am doing with this post? So, yeah enough with this merry go round, I will stop here, and ask you if it is often that you leave a book midway? Or do you suck it and finish it and then judge the author and the book. I know by using the word ‘judge’ I am giving you the full liberty to judge me, but you are going to do this anyway, right? So judge away and let me know about the books. The next time I am leaving a book after a mere 50 pages, there might be less guilt within me, guilt of leaving someone, just as someone else (may be you) might want to leave me. So if you are not one of those who got bored midway and have reached this far you know my question, and I’ll be waiting for your answer.

सूरज से गुफ्तगू #12

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तू ढूंढ रहा है कुछ
ऐसा सुना है मैंने
तू खो चूका है कुछ
ऐसा पता लगा है मुझे.
अधूरा अधूरा सा लग रहा होगा न
जैसे मुझे अब तक लगता था
आज तक तूने कहा था
चल आज मै तुजसे वही बात कहती हूँ
नहीं पायेगा मुझे
जब तक मिश्री सा घुल नहीं जाता तू मुजमे
नहीं खोज पायेगा मुझे
जब तक नहीं खो जाता तू, मुजमे.

कुछ और गुफ्तगू: सूरज से गुफ्तगू #11

सूरज से गुफ्तगू #11

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सुन, तू कब से काबिल हो गया यु गम छुपाने में
तू कब से यु हिचकिचाने लगा खुल के मुस्कराने में
कोई पुरानी छूटी हुई ख़ुशी याद आयी है
या बस मुझसे दूर जाने की रुस्वाई है?

कुछ और गुफ्तगू: सूरज से गुफ्तगू #10

सूरज से गुफ्तगू #9

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सुनो थोड़ा ठहर जाओ
तुमसे एक बात केहनी थी, वो बस सुनते जाओ
दिल आज फिर भर आया है
मै, रात तुम्हारे आने के इंतज़ार में काट लुंगी
तुम बस शाम सहारा बनते जाओ,
सुनो, बस थोड़ा ठहर जाओ.

 

कुछ और गुफ्तगू: सूरज से गुफ्तगू#8

A Year Older, A Year Wiser #3

I am sitting at my over embellished desk staring at the picture that I so adore, sipping tea. Sipping tea has been the highlight of the day these days, well, not exactly sipping tea, but trying various teas has been. I am so bored and useless that all I look forward to a day is sipping tea. From Hibiscus to white, I am trying all of them one by one. Some I liked, some just tasted like warm water! So, todays sachet was titled blue youth! Ironical, since I am taking tiny steps away from the youth. Anyways, yeah, blue youth was good. A herbal infusion of.. oh let it be. I know no one is interested. Today, not even me!

 

So yeah, the tea is good and I am typing this laboriously, laboriously I say because I am not even the mood of typing, or to say talking. But I am bored and I want to talk too. Yeah, see how messed up this is. All day long people have been texting/calling and so far I have only wanted two of them to talk to me. Rest are just making small talks, weirding it out over awkward questions that come up when you realize that you have started talking only on birthdays, or the other half of the people are just doing it for the sake out of doing it, you know since you wish them, they wish you too, types.

 

So yeah, I am typing and talking into the oblivious and thinking too. What exactly I am thinking? I wish I could point at this. What to do with my life? Whether to pick up this damned phone that has been wringing since eternity or what to eat if my stomach grumbles. I sip that tea instead.

 

What possible good can thinking bring anyway. I have been worried all through, if I’ll pass, if a job is going to work out, if everything else is finally going to find some calm. Thinking did no good. Working towards it did no good too. Things aren’t working out. They just aren’t. 2019 was supposed to be better. At least I thought so. But thinking and pondering isn’t helpful, and yet I think. You’d think I might learn from my mistakes.

 

Learnt or not, I improved things too. I mean I don’t think ahead now, or I only think as ahead as the next minute, or at the max the next hour. I mean if I have to get a pizza then I need an hour, because the pizza guy is going to tell me when I order, that they are sorry but it is going to take more than half an hour to deliver due to the overflowing amount of money in their chains pockets.

 

But anyways, I am thinking so much that all the pending chores come to mind. I have to do this, send this, check that, get that done, deliver this, write that, read this, print that! I let a sigh pass and decide I will start with that document to be printed. But for that I will have to go to our office. I twist and scrunch my nose, the thought itself cringes me. I hate going out of my room these days, let alone, my home. Not that our office is too far away, but I abhor the idea.

 

However, I know I have to get it done. I mean at least I have to get this much done today. Rest can be figured our tomorrow. Still, I go out of my room and look at my brother. He gives me the all-knowing smile; telling me don’t even ask me to do anything now. I sigh for the millionth time today.

 

I gather all my things, keys, purse, pen drives, phone which I don’t want right now but take any way, and go out. The after rain wind slaps my face mocking me, asking how long do you think you could stay away from me. I make a face; I guess all I am best at is doing that.

 

I start my scooty. As usual it plays with me and doesn’t want to start. But I know it, and it boosts up, right at the third attempt. I give it a speed of 60 and want to rush out of the parking lot. Common sense takes better of me. I slow down.

 

My office printer isn’t working, my dad says do it outside, and while you are at it….. a list of chores come my way. I forget my things and start on that. After an hour I am done, and back at office. He asks me if I got my copy of print?

 

Huh? What print?

 

I go back and get a copy of what I wanted. There is someone standing behind me, a woman, little older than me. She tries to make conversation. I don’t want to talk to her. But she pesters. And I just can’t be rude. I have tried it. I am bad at it. “So the results are out ha?” she peers over my saved document.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Did you clear it?”

 

She probably has already seen my marks, percentage and my percentile. Yet she is asking, I don’t want to talk, especially not about this. So I won’t repeat it here. I didn’t fail. But needless to say that I am not intelligent enough has been proved.  I wonder again. I wander again. What exactly happens to those who are mediocre? I mean the extremely intelligent people are focused right from the start and fly right after high school. The dumb are sure that they are not brilliant, and settle soon. Which leaves me with people like myself- the middle benchers, trying to fit in, sometimes so much interested in knowing, sometimes wanting to learn, sometimes wanting to make something of them, sometimes confused, sometimes focused, and sometimes just lost.

 

Now, it might be my fault that I haven’t been so focused since ever, but now what! I am another year old today and yet nowhere near where I can vouch and say that I am trying to do something. Don’t tell me I am not old. Yeah, yeah, I know I am not old. But I am not 20 and only out of school. I have been told repeatedly that I don’t look my age, while that may be so good to hear, but the reality is everyone else my age now knows what they are meant to do while I am still unsure of what and how exactly am I suppose to be doing anything.

 

I suck! I know I am so wrong in comparing myself to others, but I can’t help it. I mean there has to be something in my life, which for once, does not; cannot; must not go wrong. I mean for once it can happen right! I am not afraid of failures, I am not. Only, I am afraid that time is running out and I literally have no idea where to go from here. And as these thoughts run through my mind, I am handed over a copy of my lame future. The woman smiles at me. May be next time? Yeah, I say and run.

 

I run to my scooty and rush it. For the first time it starts at one go and I speed through. I calm down. And stop racing like the maniacs who are following me. Not again! What do these guys actually have in their minds? Do they have so much time and money to simply run around the city and follow some deranged woman!

 

I am just not in the mood to take this shit; I just am not! I speed through the busy streets and mix but they are right behind me in no time. I change lanes and rush towards the only place I know. The police station. I am not going to go there literally. But I know they are going to stop following me because they aren’t wearing the helmet, and there has to be a checking post on that lane.

 

They leave!

 

I leave!

 

I am irritated. But since I am already around the place, I think I might drive through that place. It’s a calm place. Trees, sun, after rain winds. I haven’t visited this place in a long time, a very long time. And the whiff of the place brings nostalgia. This place is good. Why did I stop coming here again? I used to visit this place so often, almost every time I came to this part of the city. What happened again?

 

Anyways, I am speeding through. I am slowing down. The roads are dead empty. There is literally no one. The sun is peeking through the trees. The flowers are thrown about. It is good. There is a little calm. The chaos inside my mind isn’t cured, but its soothed for a while.

 

There is a lump in my throat as I am steering around. But I have to go. I mean I do wish I’d stay here and keep staring at sun till I can, I wish I didn’t have things to worry about. But the sun is leaving too, and I know I have to go. So I go.

 

And as soon as I leave the trees, the city overpowers me, all those people who cross roads as if they don’t care for their lives, all those bike riders who think that riding a Royal Enfield gives them power to zigzag and trouble others, the other drivers who ride a long lost bike flaunt themselves too and get on my nerves. All the thoughts, all the problems, every little detail since the last year come racing towards me. It’s been a little difficult. I can’t say it’s too much. But I’d rather it be a little easy. Despite everything I was hoping 2019 to be a teeny bit better. So far, no luck!

 

As I ponder over my luck, my phone beeps. It buzzes. I avoid. It vibrates. I still avoid. I avoid it for full 5 minutes and then I pick up. It’s a friend. A good friend. I can’t, just can’t avoid him. But I already talked to him in the morning. Wait; did I say something in the groggy, sleepy state that I shouldn’t have said? But just the first words are a deceit. It’s his roommate. He knows me too. I mean he is the friend that you bear with because of the other friends that you hang out. We don’t talk these days. We didn’t even talk when we lived in the same city. But here he is calling me from my friends’ number, and I have picked up and stopped speaking after hello.

 

“Why didn’t you call me from your number?”

 

“Just..”

 

I know the answer. I mean the last two calls that he has made me this year was because he wanted a favor out of me. Not that I am keeping a tab. You’d see how hypocritical this sounds. But I only remember the number of calls he has made me, is because, that are the total number of calls he has made to my number in his entire life.

 

So what does he want now?

 

“Yeah, so listen, who this Hamlet was, and can you elaborate what this means?”

 

‘I am driving. Can we talk later?”

 

“Umm, actually I am going to an acting class you know, and wanted to know this before that. And you see everyone knows me there, (he is a novice anchor) it’s a matter of image now.”

 

Dead silence!

 

I really don’t want to discuss the idea of being or not being, standing in the middle of the road. In simpler words I am in no mood of helping. But I feel disgusted at myself. And so I bring myself to a halt at the corner, where a few vehicles are parked and begin the task of explaining Hamlet and his dilemma to a man, who, by the end asked me “wow you know what a protagonist is.” (I thought only people who went to acting classes were taught who a protagonist is.)

 

“What did you think I was some dumb person?” (Who cannot make anything of their lives)

 

“No, No, I didn’t mean that.” He wants to know about a Gertrude speech too. Well, Macbeth? Can you tell me about any other plays?”

 

“Look, I am not at home right now, we can talk later. Sorry. Bye.”

 

I want to go back for a last look at sun peeking through, but he has gone. The moon has started shimmering, and the after office traffic is peeking up. I go towards home.

 

As I enter home, there is some heated discussion going on. See, my results aren’t the only problem these days. It all started since 2018, and it has been all stretched through. It needs to give me a breather now. It really does. Anyways, as everyone says that we need to stick up to everything that life throws at us- like I have a choice; I stick up. Meaning, I go to my room.

 

The only thing that’s bringing me to be wiser is kept on my desk. I smile, or at least pretend to. The books are winking at me. Another set of savior, while I constantly avoid reality!

 

Now, seriously the books are making me wiser or should I start naming my birthday posts- “A year older, a year dumber!”

सूरज से गुफ्तगू #5

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बिखेर दिए है आज जो बदल भी तुमने
बस गए हो यु उसके भी दिल में
कुछ तो शर्म करो कितनो के दिल के तोड़ोगे
अब बस भी करो, मोहब्बत करता हु, ये कितनो से कहोगे.

थोड़ी और गुफ्तगू: सूरज से गुफ्तगू #4