Litmus test

Those days I was completely new to this city.I was not even loving this city,and to your surprise i am yet to love this city.And again to your surprise I never take love as a complicated issue.At least its not so complicated that it should be left to so called tagged romeos. Those days peace meant to me a bread slice or so assumed treaties that history cherishes as a signature agreement to end a prolonged war.I wonder sometimes why history always remembers the war and forgets the bloodshed.How easily they shake hands ,smile (read act) and with bravest of sophistication they end the prolonged war. Those days meetings meant to be a sign of honor. This blog traces back its memory to that day. july 20,2011. A metallurgical engineering student was found hanging from the ceiling fan. People say suicide is always a weak mind's consequence.well people love their right to speak ..so i do love mine. The pressmen the channelists ..they thought the guy must have failed in subjects...we...

Memories are like a chilled bear can.It puts you either to abuse or to smile. In my mind there are some old pages from my friend's diary.And the best part of the story is that years ago that diary was completely mine...i was the sole owner of that protracted  element;days passed and then i was the co-owner of that diary;days passed i lost my ownership rights on my heart...on my diary.And finally this story turned out to be a memory that my hysteresis should keep in mind....should trace and retrace it time and again.Like nobility puts itself prior to brutality so should love. well see what it reads and to be precise what i should interpret out of these pages. nov 26,2010 4:30 pm Emblemed in tears. lost in oblivion. ....... hope my intelligencia will win or continue; hope i will get tired before i loose; hope i will be loved before i leave; ........... ........... then there is one last november page.it reads: nov 30,2010 8:30 pm one morning i w...

बचे खुचे डायरी के पन्ने  लौटा दे मुझे उस उल्फ़त के  दो -चार पुराने से किस्से । उस साझे -साझे मोहबत से मेरे अपने सारे हिस्से । प्यासे -प्यासे से नैन मेरे लौटा दे मुझे वो चैन मेरे; डूबे  हैं कहीं बिखरे -बिखरे उन टुकरे-टुकरे अतीतों में । उन लफ़्ज़ों में ,उन गलियों में उन सर्द परे मेरे गीतों में । उन  रातों में ,उन बातों में बरसातों में ,उन शीतों में । उन बेफिक्रे से चेहरों में उन भागती तपती शहरों में । लौटा दे मुझे उस उल्फ़त के  दो -चार पुराने से किस्से । लौटा दे मुझे उस महफ़िल के दो -चार सुलगती सी रातें । उस साझे -साझे बकवासों से मेरी अपनी सारी बातें । सर्द पड़ी ये आहें मेरी नर्म पड़ी ये बाहें मेरी । ढूंढ़े हैं कहीं , राहों पे फुरसत से चलते दो -चार कदम । ढूंढ़े हैं कहीं , किसी गोद में सोये सोये गिनते तारे हम । ढूंढ़े हैं कहीं , बाहों में लिपटे -खोये दो -चार नयन । ढूंढे हैं कहीं , किसी खिड़की से जाते -जाते से काफ़िर सावन । लौटा दे मुझे उस महफ़िल के दो -चार सुलगती सी रातें । लौटा दे मुझे उस डायरी के बचे -खुचे सार...

An idea to write this piece flashed in my mind while i was reading one short article on english of india. it was a cute criticism ,may be an intended one,against the ill-grammatical lines of some novels written by some iitian. more precisely writer was astonished of the fact that 'why every iitians love story turns out as a best seller.It was a point of astonishment for the author,yet it should not be..I feel. I tell you why 1. In the four or five years that an iitian spend in his/her college the first and foremost thing they are taught are..... how to present,where to present,what to present. the world is like DHRITARASTRA or GANDHARI....in this way or that its blind..... I wonder how you take our lives...what you think?....we make machines...or robots or skrew nuts... you will never understand. Engineering is not all about machines, neither its all about lectures tutorial and practicals.Its like an ideology,a philosophy.its a way of thinking that some times seems analogic ...

आईने  june 21,2012 20:00  ये अँगुली में दबी जिंदगी मेरी माचिस के सहारे जला भी  गये  । ये पीने -पिलाने की आदत मेरी हर घूँट में आँसू मिला भी गये  । ये नब्जों की सिहरन, धक् धक् सी धड़कन हम जी भी गए ,घबरा भी गये। ये यादों के साये में नापाक चेहरे वो सर्दी के रातों के मौसम सुनहरे वो बातों ही बातों में मिलते गए हम हाथों में हाथ रख सिलते गए गम वो गोदी में  तेरे,  रैन बसे रे  हम सो भी गये ,सुला भी गये । तुम मीत  जो मन के बन से गये हो गीत जो प्रीत  के लब्जों से बंधे हम गा  भी गये , बलखा भी गये । दिल से दिल ये मिले  या मिले ना  नैनों से नैना मिला भी गये । तुम आये ना आये हम आते रहेंगे ये यादों के मोंम जलाते रहेंगे । हमको निकालोगे कब कब कहाँ से हम साये हैं ,बरबस सताते रहेंगे । अब यादों में तेरे  जश्न मना के हम रो भी गये ,रुला भी गये । ये राहें जो  बेसुध बेसुध सी हैं ये  शहर जो सुध बुध खो  बैठी है इस शहर ए  मुहब्बत जताने की खातिर हम संवर भी गये ,शरमा भी गये । आ...

may 23 2012 8:00 pm interview i sometimes feel that some pacific memories are chasing me.sometimes in dreams every night or sometimes in realities.after every day or two memories interview me. dear diary see, i tell you some sober lines i wrote this evening sitting on an embankment road that leads to the setting sun.  यादों  का सपनों से साक्षात्कार । दिन और रात तो ढलते रहेंगे ; इस्कजादे और शायर तो जलते रहेंगें । वक़्त की कहानी हम वक़्त से छुपा रहे हैं , प्यारी सी भूल हम  किये जा रहे हैं । जिगर के हिसाब में  मिली यादों के लौ का , वक़्त बे वक़्त हम  दिया जला रहे हैं । कागज जिसमे पोलिथीन की परत सी चढ़  गयी है , पत्थर जिसमे पश्चिम की धूल मढ़ गयी है , ये ताबूत, ये तम्बाकू, ये सुर, ये सुराही , हम गीत बुन रहे हैं और ये  गाये जा रहे हैं ।  यादों  का सपनों से साक्षात्कार। कैसे व्यक्त करें हम आभार ।। ___________________________________________________ may 24 2012 8:17 pm dear diary  sitting on the embankment i think has ...

may 4,2012 3:30 am A little boy knocked me.'sir,begusarai'. i stepped out of the bus.the small town was muffled in darkness.bus stand name was slightly visible_ jannayak jai prakash narayan......... some tea and paan shops were quite open. a flickering hope, a flickering eye, and a flickering vapour lamp every where.roads were lull,except the screeches and sirens of passing by national permit trucks or night buses.i was just quivering.  a unique india lies within this india. an india that covers the most of the pie chart.an india that's modest yet vulnerable,that lives becoz they need to live.well its not just an india.. a perspective rather ...a frame of reference rather..from where we perceive ourselves smarter.we seldom talk about that india and when ever we talk,.... we talk diplomatically,politically and to be precise dramatically. their streets their walls do not get posters of big movies(read critically correct).they don't have sense of critical quotien...