Dil Roshan, Raah Roshan

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Ghar Ke Buzurg

Train ka coach jab purana ho jata tha toh usse yard main shift kar dete the… Aur woh wahaan khade khade din raat dusri trains ko apne aage nikalte hue dekhta tha…

Par jab hum usmein luka chuppi khelne jaate the, tab usmein bahut si aisi cheezein milti thi jinka koi mol nahi laga sakte the, jaise puraani kitaabein, checks waale muffler aur kabhi kabhi toh paanch rupaye ke note… Un cheezon ko paakar chehre pe ek alag hi muskaan aa jaati hai…

Yeh coach ghar ke buzurgon ki yaad dilaate hain…

(Excerpt from Nirmal Verma’s -Antim Aranya)

Ghar Ki Subah

Iss Kavita se mere ghar ke savere ki gandh aayegi!
Subah savere jab pheli baar Papa uthaane aate hain
Toh unki chillahat ke saath main ek sugandh shaving cream ki aati hai
Jo ‘5 minute aur’ ka bahana sunkar kam hone lagti hai…
Phir neeche jab aata hu,
Tab brush se phele aa rahi khud ke moonh ki durgandh
Mandir se aayi Maa se aa rahi chandan ki khushboo se ladne lagti hai…
Phir Dadaji ke pass jab pranaam karne jata hu
Toh wahaan garam chai ki khushboo
Akhbaar ke baasi propaganda se ladti hai
Iss yudh par alpviram Dadaji ki paad hi lagaati hai…
Phir 100 kadam tehal ke bathroom ki aur wo jab prasthan karte hain
Main mauka dekh kar Sports ka panna nikaal leta hu,
Aur kitchen se aa rahi Jalebi Pohe (because stereotype) ki khushboo ki taraf khicha chala jata hu
Par jab wahaan pahunchta hu toh apne liye bas gandh rahit Green Tea hi pata hu…
Aur Communist Pait kab Capitalist tond ban gayi iske flashback main chala jata hu
Kuch aise katt jaati thi ghar ki subah
Par kya ab Naye sheher ki nayi subah, nayi hawa jab laayegi…
Kya woh apne saath wohi sugandh jise kehta hu main ghar apne saath la payegi…

Letters To Self #1

Hi you ‘Like’ freak

Suffering from a social media disorder

Running after likes and responses on the Internet to feel good about yourself

You are a hypocrite

Not to the outside world but to yourself

For the first twenty years of your life you have swam through seas of pity

Never realising that it was full of plastic

You were born premature, so what

What’s the big deal, it is upon you to fix it

But what you did

You started using the pity as a mental crutch

And that is the worst thing a person can do to himself

You found a thing which you were half decent at

That is WRITING

Putting words one after the other

To make sense of it all

But were you able to

Nobody is

Then came the social media monster

Where you tried to do away with pity

But you forgot to take care of your own self

Of your own health

You started getting distracted from the real problems

This started the tug of war

With you limping in the middle

On one side ignorance and self pity of the real world was pulling you

But you wanted to go on the other side which comprised of validation from people behind keyboards

But when they weren’t able to help

You complained in the real world

Complained that world is trying to undermine you

But this whole time, the only person undermining you was you

You cared less and less about your real problems

Your health, your leg, your hand, your life

And when they weren’t fixed

You committed another mistake

You made yourself small in your own damn mind

And expected others to feel otherwise

And accept you as this confident and intellectual person

Just because you shared something funny on their Social media walls

Dude please

First accept yourself

Start working on yourself

Stop pitying yourself

Fix your damn leg, hand, health and life

Throw the mental crutches of pity

Always remember with every second you are getting closer to death

You are losing out on life

And every second you pity yourself

You are not loving yourself

And that’s a moment wasted

Remember, only you that can love you till the end of your life

Please do that

Remind yourself that

Again and again

You don’t need validation of tapping fingers on gorilla glass screens to feel good about yourself

You need yourself to take care of yourself

And a glass in front of you where you can stand and say ‘I love myself’.

Patriarchy, Screw You!!!

Patriarchy, you know what Screw You!!!

For not letting me cry my heart out…

Patriarchy, Screw You!!!

For giving me a power that I cannot handle by birth

Patriarchy, Screw You!!!

For not letting me get close to my father

Patriarchy, Screw You!!!

For the exorbitant bills of therapy

And last but not the least,

Patriarchy, Screw You !!!

For being the root cause of pseudo-feminism…

Patriarchy, you know what Screw You!!!

Laar

Laar
Tap tap tap tap tapke laar
Iske hain chaar prakaar
Bhook ki laar
Tharak ki laar
Paise ki laar
Power ki laar
Tap tap tap tap
Tapke laar…
Bhook ki laar hai sabse basic yaar,
Phir bhi usse rokne ke liye
Kitno ko pochni padti hai dusron ki tharak ki laar
Tap tap tap tap
Tapke laar
Tharak ki laar,
Hai khoob kamaal,
Arey bhai usse hi toh hai yeh saara sansaar
Par jab ban jaat wo vyapaar aur
Usmein mila nahi pyaar ka swaad
Tab bann jati yeh bahut khatarnaak
Tap tap tap tap
Tapke laar
Paise ki laar bhi badi zaroori hai yaar,
Usse chalta hai aaj ka sansaar
Par agar ismein bhi nahi aaya pyaar ka swaad
Toh tabaahi machata hai yeh baraambar
Tap tap tap tap
Tapke laar
Phir jiski tapke power ki laar,
Uske hain bas do kaam
Ya toh badhata hai apni bhook,tharak aur paise ki laar
Aur maarta phirta hai ahankaar ki paad
Nahi toh gatak leta hai janta ka pyaar
Aur leta hai sukoon ki dakaar
Tap tap tap tap
Tapke laar…