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बचपन

आज भी पापा की थैली में, कुछ खाने का पा जाते हैं, आज भी उनके जगाने के झूठ में, अक्सर फस जाते हैं| आज भी कुछ गरजने की आवाज़ सुन, आँखें आसमान को देखती हैं, आज भी ये आँखें कोई, हवाइज़हाज़ या हेलिकॉप्टर ढूंडती हैं| आज भी सुबह उठने में, उतनी ही परेशानी होती है, आज भी आधी नींद में, पूरी किताबें पलटती हैं| आज भी मुसीबत में फोन, सबसे पहले दादा को ही जाता है, और फिर उसके फोने के साथ, पूरा समाधान भी आता है| आज भी गाने, वो पुराने ही अच्छे लगते हैं, कभी रफ़ी, कभी किशोर, तो कभी मुकेश भी सुन लेते हैं| पर आज क्यू अकेले, अंधेरे में रहते हैं, दूसरो को सिर्फ़, हसते हुए रहते हैं? आज क्यू आँसू सिर्फ़ आँख तक ही रह जाते हैं? क्या अभी बचपन, सिर्फ़ भुलाने को कहते हैं?

An expected song

Even as his strings danced, Danced evenly to his placid fingers, His tune didn't come out right. The thick buzzing of the last string, The one like the humming of the crankiest bee, The one like the murmur of a confused crowd, Was just one of his troubles. He tried fixing the one with the shiny bolt, He tried tightening it with all his might, But that was just one trouble. The bolt slipped off his sweaty fingers, Slipped even before the tightness was achieved. With great difficulty even though, That shiny bolt was tightened. But that was just one trouble less. Just when the thick humming seized, Another unwanted, unpleasant sound arose. This one was an irritating shriek of the first string, The one like the cry of a distressed infant, The one like the scream of a terrorized teenager. This time too the bolt was to be blamed, But this time the crime was very different. The adjustment to this was even more difficult, more complex. He tried loosening it, He tri

A Night too harsh

It was just a matter of hours few, The skinny dark skin, Of dirt, of sweat, Would give up on the chill. Would give up on that thin shawl, Which he found in the rags, on one of his job days, Just before the commencement of this winter. That day was a lucky one. The days were lenient enough to make up for the nights, They provided healing to the wounds inflicted by the nights, With the divinity of the Sun, They brought smiles. But this night was nowhere close. Walking down the misty road, Walking in an odd pair of slippers, His bony chest had started to beat slowly, His shaky legs did not want to be a part of his journey, His dirty face had stopped feeling the chill. The chill showed no mercy. Alongwith the winds, the temperature dip to a sorrow low. His shawl was the only armor, His slippers the only guard. But there was something that kept him going. Far away in the fog, At a distance unpredictable by human eyes, There was a light. A yellow light of hope. Th

काग़ज़ के जहाज़

काश उन पंखों में हवा होती, तो कहीं दूर चल देते हम; थोड़ी देर ठहरते, फिर उससे भी दूर उड़ जाते हम| उड़ने से थके पंखों को बालों में घिसते, फिर नाखूनो से मोदते उन्हे हम; नोक को सीधा कर के, फिर हवा में चल देते हम| जोड़ों को दबा कर, उनमें फूँक भी भर देते हम; एक आँख से निशाना लगा के, फिर से उड़ चलते हम| कहीं समुंदर देखते, तो कहीं पहाड़ भी देखते हम; कहीं झरने देखते, तो कहीं इमारतें भी देखते हम| पर ये जहाज़ कभी उड़े ही नहीं, कभी ये दूर तक गये ही नहीं| कुछ थे बने अख़बारों से, तो कुछ फटे पन्नो से| कुछ थे बने लड़ाई में, तो कुछ बस युहीन खेल में| पर उन सबकी उड़ान छोटी ही थी, छत से सूखे आँगन तक|

En route Happiness

This is my entry for  http://cokeurl.com/96jnc Many people whom we come across everyday have set goals to achieve what they call happiness. Some might have a promotion in their job as that goal, some might want a cooler car or better exam result. Yes, what they experience on achieving those goals is a close relative of happiness, but not the original phenomenon. Walking towards these goals, they are so focused on the ultimate destination that they forget to pick up pieces of the original feeling on their way. They are not able to see the numerous chances in their way that could provide them with happiness while treading towards their goals. The real happiness is in the way.  Happiness is spending time with your loved ones, your parents, your siblings and your friends. Watching their smiles and watching those smiles spill is happiness. Knowing what they'll do next and finding amusement in those deeds is happiness. Happiness is eating your mother's food after a long t

New Chapter

This is my entry for  https://housing.com All of us had to move away from home at one point of time in our lives. That may have been the first boarding school for some, or college, or a new country, or a job. At whichever step it was, we were packed heavy with lunch for the journey and snacks for a month with someone with tearful eyes at the departure point. For me that was back in July of 2011 when I just was over with school and was admitted to a college far from home. It all started with the joyous May of 2011 when the results of our last step of school life came. I secured a decent enough percentage to get myself into a good college, atleast according to previous year's cutoff. All was very happy when that dreadful week of June came and took away all the joy. The cutoffs were touching skies and I could do nothing but watch from the ground under. But that week ended too. It ended with me being enrolled in a college of national repute and a cultural background. It was Zakir

The Dark Cloud

This is my entry for  https://housing.com/in Sometimes it happens that the most difficult of the times are cut short by few people who may or may not do much in real but the boost in morale they pump in you at those times in much more than any real thing any real person could do on any real day. This takes me back down on the memory lane to the fourth semester of my graduation in the summer of 2013. It was a dark semester for me overall. I was down for a month with typhoid in addition to a half month till it was diagnosed. Then just ten days prior to my exams, I was left with a heap of course to go through, a load of material to learn, and an infinite amount of panic. Thanks to my very lovely friends, it did get a little smooth in the middle. I got the "banned" notes which were just like cheat codes to my game altogether. But this story is not about it. This is the story of how some friends get into your trouble without giving any second thoughts and drag you out from th

The Midway

This is my entry to  https://housing.com/lookup I've always wondered what could be that one thing that one could do towards well being of others without letting go off one's own interests. That may sound a bit anti-noble but that is what is true. There is a certain mentality which does not let a person go an extra mile against one's own direction. That is a kind of optimism ice always been searching, ironically on my own track. But that search of the midway ended in the summer of 2009 while I was in high school. That day was just like any other day. I dressed up for school on my regular morning routine and left the house for the taxistand. I luckily found a taxi even before reaching the stand. When the taxi reached the stand, the driver got down to gather more passengers. A usual action done in the morning hours by the kind. I sat near the window, looking out and breathing the morning freshness. At that time, I saw something. Something that sent a chill down my spine a

The Rise-ing journey

When I was first enrolled into the board, I had no idea what editing meant, or writing for that matter. I was just a young and naive first year student who was enthusiastic about his independence in a new and fast city, his college life, and who had a long measuring tape for horizons. Fortunately though, I found that one teacher who knew how to channel that enthusiasm in one direction. When I was first asked, I went straight up to her and in a brutally honest but polite tone told her, "Ma'am, I don't know a thing about economics or writing", to which she replied, "that's what we'll teach you". And indeed she did.   Two years of priceless education and training and warmth were predicated by the blazer. The blazer which had earlier been worn by the woman behind the birth and the broad-shouldered senior(read responsible) in chronological order, was much of a responsibility. I though initially was unsure of whether I'll be able to fit in, but

Old letter, New envelope.

An old Physics teacher, the one whom I looked up to, once told me it doesn't matter what you know. What matters is if you can tell what you know. He was referring to my very disturbing habit of eating up steps while proving theorems. I always used to skip the very obvious steps thinking the examiner would know that I know. Not surprisingly, as it seems now, I lost marks here and there. But after that brief talk which was more of a lecture though, and a couple more, I realized what he was trying to tell and I did correct those mistakes. But today, four  or five later, I find the saying true, but in a different setting. Today we see people commenting on various political parties, their ideologies, social issues, their causes and criticism, preach feminism with blindfolded eyes, and propaganda of all sorts. These people sit in their comfort zones, in their warm rooms with phones and computers with thousands of rupees, with good internet facilities that too is not cheap in any existi