Words

barsaane ki radha sang
sakhiyan ki bhari toli
pooche kare-kanhaiya se
kaisi teri holi kanha
kaisi re teri holi

maang saja doon prem abeer sang
galon pe meethi roli
aise meri ho-li radha
aisi ri meri holi

CELEBRATING LOVE…FOREVER

of all the god’s accomplishments, mind is the most amazing, terrifying, wonderful, obcsene, beautiful, and whatever other adjective you chose to use, creation. and all the adjectives being only its produce, they cannot completely describe what, this mind is.
have been troubled too much by my mind these days. but this internal dialogue was necessary. and it still continues. and this is why the rain helped.

anyways,
she came to meet me today. at the office. because we won’t be able to meet this Holi, which sadly also takes one of our precious sundays with it, she traveled half way across delhi. to meet me. and to give me a tilak.
now when i look back at the moment, i wonder how more special it could have been. the number of things i could have said and done to make it more memorable. but then, the fact that she was with me is enough. one shade of red that she adorned my forehead with and the same color i rubbed on to become her blush. and we both were colored in the same hue of red. we both are covered in the same hues of love.

this sunday, the festival of colors, will be full of love. this sunday, after a gap of 15 odd years, i’ll play Holi, immersed in her name.

it’s surprising what rain does to you sometimes… the morning after, you can look up to the sky and feel the calm, clear beauty. as if the slate has been wiped clean, ready for many more scribblings… and if you look down at the soil, the mud, the slush…well, that’s what perspective is. one event, different perceptions. one night of rain, so many lessons.

and between all this, rain remains what it is.
pure, sacred, divine.
like love. like her.

and everything’s right…

m verrrrry frustated today
‘cos the words that come from within, m not liking them

i don’t know what i’ll write, whether to write, and what to write
dee n twin both say, wait, wait for the words to come
but its not that i dont have words, the problem is i might have the same kinds of words saying the same kinds of things

m not bored, m just frustated, or this poet/writer watever wants me to go into a shell…i don’t know

khair, anyways, i’ve to tell u guys abt this sunday. and fortunately it doesnt need any poem or so.

exactly a year ago, at the same mayur vihar apartment of his friend aparna (hagrid) mentioned before, an orange shirt boy met an off-white suit girl, for the first time. frankly speaking, they didnt like each other much. except casual friendship. he noticed that she was bit plump than he expected and she wondered is he really 26 or was lying abt his age. she was not the usual, normal beautiful girl, there was something different about her, and he felt shy of her. she was looking gud in white, which when conveyed resulted in a chiding that its not white, its off-white! she was worried about reaching home on time, and wondered why she came here in the first place.

they gradually talked about aparna’s love affair and then her’s and his past love also. and when she went home, it was a normal parting away, of byes and nice meeting yous.

now, when they both look back at the day and exchange sms’ they do wonder what the hell…whatever happenned to them afterwards.

this sunday, on the 25th of february 2007, exactly a year after, that guy in the same orange shirt and blue jeans met that girl in a red kurta 🙁 and same dirty jeans 🙂 and hugged her and whispered a happy anniversary in her red earinged ear. they met to celebrate the innocent promises of the day a year ago and where they’ve come in life. together.

it was only by october later in the year, that they realised they had to be together. but if this is a love story, and if like all stories it has been penned before, somewhere in the attic of universe, by a god who loves to make people wonder about their destinies, who loves to love, then, that orange shirt boy wants to say to that off-white suit girl…that, he loves her. and he loves her in a way words cannot define. and he knows she loves him too. and lives him. and… nothing, nothing else matters in this life more.

some where on the India Gate circle, some time in the sunday morning, when she was reaching college in a cycle rickshaw, and i was going to amul’s place for some project of mine, i once again felt for this bus ticket in my jacket’s left pocket. and thought of its worth.

“is this Rs. 10 ticket worth only this much? or has it some more value attached to it?” if a ticket checker finds me without it, i would have had to shell out Rs. 100 as the fine. which my being very clumsy & absent minded is always a perfect possibility.

so, as i again nervously checked the ‘being thereness’ of this little piece of paper, i felt it was worth more than the supposed Rs. 110 it carried within. it felt infinitely more valuable than that.

this 1.25″ by 3.25″ piece of govt. authorization to travel in state run buses felt invaluable because it was carrying me towards her. and suddenly, everything else in the world, assumed only this role.

every drop of fuel, every rotation of bus tyres, the everyday functioning of traffic lights to every second of sun had this very purpose, of taking me to her. the whole world existed & breathed with life, only for us to meet. and to love. it seemed, the whole universe works overtime to make this a possibility.
a perfect possibility.

12 hours after i left home this sunday morning, look, what i returned with, my love.
a half-finished book, a crumpled bus ticket, some work that was done, some stolen kisses in public places and the memory of our hands taking leave in an eternity.

and a thought on how love changes everyday things into objects of reverence. and a love of the love she has brought in to my life.