YOU AND I

Each time you gave some of you
You took some more of me,
Each time you closed your eyes to sleep
You stole some dreams of me,
Each time the sun set on your dreamy days
You shadowed the light in me,
Each time you looked at your reflection
You mirrored a lot of me,
Each time you stared at my frank eyes,
You entered the skin of me.

And now, when you are some of I
And some of I is you,
Difficult our lives have become
In removing all of you;

When I try to shed some of you,
I shed a lot of me,
With each layer that I skin off
You disappear with some more of me,
So deep was the intrusion of you in my life
That you are the majority in me;

Little by little, bit by bit,
Your rays had entered me,
And now erasing the thought of you
Is like dimming the light in me.

And with a new view, I look at you
Searching for the lost me
And all I find is a void sublime
Where darkness was traded for me,
The larks have stopped singing
The tales of love,
Now that, there's no more of me in thee!

Wherefore Shall One Find?

Oft at times, one should find
A mind engaged
In warring contradictions
In a place like this
Where exists a knowledge abyss!

Alas! Bereft of Convictions,
Thoughts often aged
Swarm without Friction.
In a place like this
A questioning soul is amiss!

Stay Away My Dear!

An overcast sky,
Clouded with darkness
A spring of colour
Spreads nevertheless.

Yet he Forbids
Happiness to come near
A tale spun so sordid
That Quoth he
“Stay Away My Dear”

What shalt she say
Grown weary with neglect.
Their Conversations abound
Erratic and Forlorn
Emphatic with words
And Absence of Sound

O’ she wonders!
How at fault was she?
And so she Wonders
As Time Flies Nigh
Is her Love someday To Be?

Aapke jawaab mein

छोटी छोटी रंजिशों में प्यार ढूंढ लें तो जाने
कोसों दूर रहने वाले की भावना को समझ पाएं तो जाने
ठहाके मारने के दिन तो उसी क्षण लद गए
जब बिलखती आँखों के मायने आपके लिए हो गए बेमाने


स्व-जड़ित कैदों से विचार मुक्त हो पाएं तो जाने
किसी की यादों से खुद को विमुख कर पाएं तो जाने
गनीमत सिलवतें ही थी, क्या आप भूल गए,
अपने हाथों के उस स्पर्श को हमसे छीन पाएं तो जाने

किसी की उल्फतों को नज़र-अंदाज़ कर पाए तो जाने

सोचते हैं की कभी तो दर्द बयान कर पाएं
उस काली कलम से शब्द छीन पाएं तो जाने
जिन सवालों के जवाब से आप खुद रहे बेखबर
वो छोड़ हमें, खुद से पूछें तो जाने

हमारे इकरार को मुक़र्रर कर पाएं तो जाने

क्या खूब-ऐ-किस्मत हमारा मजाक उड़ाया करती है
हमारी की गयी प्रशंसा को दरकिनार करिए तो जाने
आपकी खामोशी हमसे हमको ही छीन कर ले गयी
वो हंसी, वो नाटक, वो वो नाराजगी लौटा पाएं तो जाने

कभी अपने शालीन-ऐ-अंदाज़ में "मेरे साथ चलोगी" सुना पाएं तो जाने

गिरफ्त प्यार की न होती तो हम भी अहंकार-ऐ-सराबोर थे
हमारी हालत को समझ कर खुद पास आयें तो जाने
शिद्दत से बटोरा है हमने हर उस लम्हे को
उन लम्हों से खुद को छुड़ा पाएं तो जाने

रंजिशों को छोड़ हमें अपना पाएं तो जाने

221st Page of A 300 Page Autobiography

And I broke into an effervescent laughter.
Wasn’t he right? Life was going to come around full circle. At 43, I had achieved milestones I had never dreamt about. The youngest Global Head in the Food&Beverages Industry was a brilliant title to possess at this juncture of my life.
A career spawning over a period of 17 years starting from my first job at XYZ International has been a completely intoxicating experience. The rapturous excitement on getting placed in Pepsi straight out of IIM makes me wonder about the valuation of happiness at various junctures of one’s life. At 24, it was about getting placed. At 30, it was about playing with my little daughter who was growing up. At 38, it was about appreciating the progressive social context that India was encapsulated in.
At 43 today, it holds a very different meaning for me. Today, happiness means feeling worthy, responsible for having a job done, and done well at that, for having achieved more than I had aimed, for having made a difference to the lives of people around me.
What more does one want out of life? An IAS husband who while reciting poetry is passionate about reforming bureaucracy and robbing it of its stigma and a daughter who doesn’t want to follow the herd into the 17th IIM inaugurated in the country but wants to start a school
Despite all this, there is something missing. A gap I need to fill in. Having changed the fortunes of the companies I worked with, I am hardly excited by the rise and fall of the share price.
I guess, it’s time to turn around. That’s why my husband laughs and calls me eccentric for now at 43 I am filling in a form yet again, like the night of 20th Sept 2010 I filled one for a company, and this time it is to get into University of Columbia to study Public Administration. Maybe we can….

मंथन

क्या यह वो जगह है , जिस पर मेरी निगाह थी ?
क्या यह वो जगह है, जिस पर मैं निसार थी?
गए दिनों की सोच कर मायूसी आये इधर मेरे
आज को देखकर नयी उम्मीद भी गयी कुचल !

Affaire de Cœur

A slightly chilly morning beautified by the sparkling brilliance of trees which have been washed by the downpour that happened a few minutes ago, the splendour of the water-filtered sunlight complete with winds that have got rid of their dust, marks the beginning of a new day-Today.

A rain-washed day looks sanctimonious enough to assume that we are far away from the ills of the world.
Today is such a day. You call out to me and we decide to go for a stroll. A stroll that has the twittering of birds and the mellifluous whispering of winds as company. Conversation is random, bordering more on the figments of imagination than the usual hard-core facts of worldly mundane theatricals.
You look amazingly and sincerely handsome in a spotless white chikan kurta matched only with a smile that has the magnificence of a thousand moonlit nights. You look at me and the innocence in your eyes makes my heart sing a different tune. I smile and turn around with the wind playing with the strands of my hair and your eyes playing havoc with my heart.
Silence plays hide and seek with random words, tidbits of conversation and stealthy glances. My hair flies, off and on, and then finds a cosy place to rest on your shoulder.
Sun sparkles in its magnificence and we realize it is time to go back. Back to the snug confines of an assemblage of trees, plants and flowers that we choose to call our garden. With kadak adrak ki chai, newspaper in hands, we croon softly to “karwan guzar gaya” in the background.
By and by, our foreheads crease. The smile, which danced on our lips, disappears slowly as we turn to face each other for the first time since we stepped out. Our voices raise, the volume is turned down, we get into an argument where invariably we are on the same side. It is the same story yet again.
BJP loses again only to rekindle the fire within us, only to let the affair of our hearts intensify.
Marriage has its moments.