वह...

अनन्त में अटा हुआ
और शून्य से सटा हुआ
आरम्भ में और अंत में
फिर मध्य में बँटा हुआ

सम्पर्क में पर कटा हुआ
कर्म में डटा हुआ
अन्धकार में सूर्य वह
ग्रीष्म में घटा हुआ

पथ उसका हटा हुआ
काँटों से पटा हुआ
जड़ों से जुड़ा है वह
आनंद की जटा हुआ

Crutches..

Suman was limping hastily towards the school gate. He was late today. His crutches made sounds of 'click' and 'clack' while he dragged himself in a hurry. All his buddies who got off the bus with him were already inside. He tried to walk faster but one of his crutches met the wrong piece of ground, making him fall flat on his face.

He fell. A roar of laughter erupted, from the group of other latecomers who were walking behind him. Some good fellows came running to help him. But he refused. He got up. The uproar of laughter became louder when he helped himself in that weird fashion, which was the only way he could get up by himself. He did not cry.

Each of the latecomers received two rounds of the vast playground as their punishment. He was spared from the running and was given imposition of writing I will not be late two hundred times. Because, he knew, just because he was a cripple.

Life was different before. When he had legs. Two strong, beautiful legs. He used to jump two stairs, when ever he climbed the staircase. School was different. But things changed after the accident. It was all sympathy from everywhere at the beginning. Then the things started changing. People accepted him as a cripple before he could even accept himself. He was the favorite toy of bullies, who would take away his crutches, and leave him slithering on the ground helplessly. Life without legs is difficult.

A regular day got over. Bullies had punched his face blue today. He limped back to his bus and got into it.
When he reached his home, mother saw his face "You fought again today?" He did not say anything. "I told you beta, you know you can't fight them, you should avoid them", mother said kissing his face.

The evening passed in completing the homework, and watching other children playing football and then a few of his favorite cartoons.

At night, he was lying tucked in his bed. He looked at the clock. 12:30. He knew mom  and dad must've slept. He quietly sat up and reached his crutches standing near the corner of the bed. He slowly click-clacked his way up to the terrace and walked near to the edge. He stood there and looked down at the hard ground below and then up at the sky. Dropping his crutches, he flew away into the vast night sky.

Ajeeb Daastaan...

In a dimly lit room, he sits alone holding his guitar and puffing his cigarette. To be true, he himself feels like a cigarette, life is slowly smoking him up, he burns each day, seemingly giving life a kick out of it. "Fuck that" he tries to break the cycle of thoughts and starts playing his guitar. 'Ajeeb daastaan hai ye.... kahaan shuru kahaan khatam.... ye manzilein hain kaun si.... na woh samajh sake na hum.' He likes this song. There is no stage and he is his own audience. Doesn't matter. He keeps playing into the lonely night. 'Ajeeb daastaan hai ye... kahaan shuru kahaan khatam..' The night slowly fades away into the smoke.  

Crossing through a jungle..

I wander in the wilderness
With a gun in my hand
And a smile on my face
It's dark and the woods are deep
The road down the valley rough and steep

Waiting hyenas, wolves and foxes
Also lions, pythons and snakes
I laugh out loud at my luck
The woods are uncaring and a cruel place
Don't want to get lost without a trace

Beasts suddenly come from all sides
My body freezes but I regain senses
The gun goes alive and then bang
Beasts running to save their lives
The man with the gun does cynical jives

Dirty and pure..

Ugly intentions
Beautiful faces
Ugly faces
Still ugly intentions
Scattered around
Like litter
I need some sanity
Sanitization of the mind
Hygiene in my thoughts
Freedom from corruption
And that's not possible
So I dive in the muck
Play the game
Get dirty
But my soul is clean
Coz it's not my choice
I'm free from the garbage
While being in the garbage
I can't clean it up
So I have another life
Where I am clean
Where it's all good and green
Where everything is nice
And so I'm fine

Castles in the air

I had written this ballad for SD.

Castles in the air
And you're my princess
I wish I was there,
Like you're in my heart's recess

It's a wild wild east
And I'm a lonely cowboy
I'll take you away from all this
To our own land of joy

You are my blue sky
You are my red rose
You are my heart's trouble
And you're my love dose

Can't get enough of you
I just want more
There's nothing that the future holds
Still I wanna see what's in store

It's a wild wild east
And I'm a lonely cowboy
I'll take you away from all this
To our own land of joy

You are my sweet love
You are my shrine
You don't belong to me
Still you are mine

Love... aur uska the end...

What is love? I'm still trying to figure out but I really hope it's more than just play of chemicals in the brains as given in physiology and neurophysiology books. I would always prefer to believe in the ideal concept of love, but then it's not that practical in today's scenario, or may be it never was.
For me the first experience of it was during my 11th std, and it was a rather strong one. I am not sure if it was love or infatuation, and don't even want to be. It was strong though, like very strong.
Act I:
It was summer and it was the first day of my Chemistry tution class. We were sitting in the room and doing some numericals on moles concept or something I don't exactly remember. I was trying to solve the problems as fast as I could so that I can impress the teacher coz obviously the first impression is last impression, and then I heard that voice "Yaar tere paas pen hai?" This was the sweetest voice I had ever heard, and it happend, it was love at the first hearing (no it was not a court and you can judge me), I turned back and looked at her.
*Violin music cue*
  "Haan hai"
"Actually woh na mere pen ki ink khatam ho gayi"
"Ok"
"Toh please ek pen de de na"
"Ok"
*End violin music cue*
Now, "Yaar tere paas pen hai" would have left me rolling on the floor with laughter as 'pen' those days was a short for male genitalia in my class andor that matter the coversation "Yaar tere paas pen hai" "haan hai" would have been declared the joke of the year among my mates. But, I didn't laugh. One.
Two. I did not have two pens. I had just one with which I was writing, and she did not ask me "yaar tere paas do pen hain?" but "yaar tere paas pen hai?" Still, I handed over my pen to her.
I sat and whiled away my time, couldn't complete my numericals and was branded as a fool by my teacher. First impression is the last impression. Indeed.
Act V
It was a pink february cold and it was class 12th. Holidays for preparation of boards had begun.
Three friends were sitting in the park. Some random rock band played a depressing lyrics in one of the phones.
"Lega"
"Tu jaanta hai na main cigarette nahi peeta"
"Lele, us kutiya ke liye kyun ro raha hai"
"Kutiya mat bol"
"Ok mere baap, us mahaan devi ke liye kyun ro raha hai, le sutta pee"
Don't ask me about the missing acts coz it's a long story. But then one of the dialogues in between include "tu jispe marta hai na, maine uski ghodi banayi".
I never thought her as a bitch, but then thinking her as a mare was a nightmare. I had lost my first race in the racecourse of love.
LOL