पर, खुश हूँ मैं

क्यूँ दरारों की ज़रूरत थी,

कि अपने रास्ते अलग हो सकें?

होठों पर मुस्कराहट,

और आँखें नम थीं

कि यादों की गहराई में

हम खो सकें?

दिल के मासूम टुकड़ों से

पूछा ना कभी

कि लापरवाह इश्क़ की छाव में

तुम इतना क्यूँ इतरा रहे थे?

बेचारा, आने वाले

इम्तेहां से बेख़बर जो था।

क्यूँ छोड़ दिया उसी हाल पर

कि नादानियों से शाय़द सीख सके?

ख़ैर, छोड़ो

इक सुकून है बस इस बात का

कि तुम्हें इतने क़रीब से जाना

रास्ते अलग हुए तो क्या

यादों की रौशनी साथ है ना

उन्हीं मासूम दिल के टुकड़ों को 

जोड़ कर, फिर चल पड़ा हूँ मै

राह नयी है, साथ तुम भी तो नहीं हो

पर, खुश हूँ मैं

हसीं वादियों के बीच,

खुले आसमां के नीचे,

दरिया की कल-कल धारा कि गोद में,

उन यादों को दोहराऊंगा मैं

खुशियों से भरा एक अपना,

छोटा सा जहाँ, बनाऊंगा मैं। 

O' you nightingale eyes

O' You nightingale eyes

You saw me through

my weirdest replies

I wasn't shy

Or, maybe was I

I saw you smile

Couldn't look away for a while

You knew it right then

What my heart had spoken

I did not wanna accept

Neither I wanted any regret

Yes, I was confused

When you approached

I tried to look away

Then, I heard you say "Hey"

Through my pounding heart

You perhaps, got a reply

I tried to be calm

So brought up a smile

We went for a walk

Romance was our talk

The evening was bright

Under beautiful moon-light

As I held your hand

Felt if I could stop slipping of the sand

A thank you, from the heart

For taking the start

For breaking the ice

O' you nightingale eyes

You saw me through

my weirdest replies

Then, I met you.

It all started one autumn. The summer just passed was full of loneliness and nostalgia. I wanted to be with someone who actually cared listen to me, and also cared to talk to me. Yes I have always had a few really good friends, but I think I wanted being someone special, or maybe I wanted to meet the one for me. Yes, I have always been hopeless romantic, just like any typical Piscean, floating on top of feelings/emotions. I am generally a good judge of people, and I take time to get to know people. But, when I started to know you, I wanted to know you more. I felt that the feelings were mutual. Although, it was just facebook/gtalk dating, we did spend hours chit-chatting, sitting thousands of miles away. Within just a week of knowing you, it was your 22^nd birthday. I had known well enough about your likings that I wanted to get you a thoughtful present for your birthday, but my practical mind was saying that it would be too soon. There were a lot of common things between us, but there were so many differences too. You had been a great sports person, well acknowledged too, and I was barely good at any sports. I had developed a great fondness for you. I know it will be another act of hopeless romanticism but I am pretty sure I remember everything we talked about when we had our first phone conversation. You were hiding in the park beside your house from your parents, just to have a conversation with me. That made me feel important and I loved the feeling. Almost 7-8 weeks passed just like that and I grew fonder of having a conversation with you each passing day, sharing every details of my life with you and knowing bits and pieces of your life. You shared many of your secrets with me, because you trusted me so much. It felt awesome. I assure you, your secrets will always be safe with me. Then you went away for a week to visit some of your relatives, and it felt like the time had suddenly become slower. We couldn’t talk at all that week. I was eagerly waiting for the week to get over so that I could have a conversation with you. When you returned, I was so damn excited. I remember you saying once to me that you felt so lonely and empty and I wanted to say that I had been falling for you. But, my practical mind stopped me from doing that, saying that I haven’t even met you once and it would be utterly stupid of me. Didn’t I tell you I was hopelessly romantic? Yes, exactly that’s what I was talking about. I was visiting home in sometime and I wanted to meet you once. Meanwhile, we had some disagreements. And, for the first time you stopped talking to me. You were angry at me. It felt like thousands of sharp needles piercing my heart. I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t. My parents couldn’t figure out what had suddenly happened to my mood. I wrote an emotional poem for you. I don’t know if you ever read that, but it makes me teary-eyed even now, when I read it.

Then, I met you.

to be continued...

Birthday blues!

This post was supposed to come a month ago, but you know, there is a saying "better late than never" :D. Ever since I was a kid, I had the fervor of excitement for birthdays. Although, I grew up with a different tradition of birthday celebrations at my home than cutting the cake etc., I liked the special attention given to me that day. I guess, every kid does, well, apart from Sheldon who wanted a Titanium Centrifuge on his birthday :P. Being from a highly spiritual family, my parents and grandparents believed in thanking god for the completion of one more year of existence. I also grew up quite spiritually oriented, but then I got introduced to science. And, beliefs changed for me. Well, this post is not going to be about those beliefs. Rather, I will try sharing some of my "special moment" experiences on my birthdays that I have had in the last few years.

Eight years ago, I was a Freshmen at ISM Dhanbad. And, then came my first birthday away from home and family. There, I got introduced to the idea of birthday-bumps. It felt like an amazing way to celebrate birthday, provided it was someone else's birthday. It scared the hell out of me, as my birthday came closer. To be true, there were two really big guys in our wing, who could literally lift me up single handedly and then the others could do the beating. Yes, that very idea scared the tiny little me. So, I came up with a plan :D. I asked one of my trusted friends to lock me up inside my own room. Even, the roommates got their share of birthday bumps, so I and my dear roommate, Sid, stayed locked up after dinner and spread the rumor around that I will be at my local guardian's place for the night. Somehow our plan got leaked and we had no idea about it. How could we have, we were locked up inside, and none of us had a cell phone back then. As the clock ticked 11:45 pm, we heard people gathering in front of our hostel room, and my facial expression was enough to convey Sid that people knew about our plan. It was good that our trusted-friend had slid the key back to us, after locking us in. 11:50, and first knock on the door, only to affirm our suspicion that they know we are inside. Repeated knocks and screams then followed to make us come out of our room, while inside we were just trying to breathe, without uttering a single word. From the whispers, I could easily figure out that there were at least 20 people outside. I would skip a heartbeat with the thought "what if the door fell down?". It went on and on for like an hour or so, intermittent knocks and shouting. And, then people got frustrated and left for their rooms. Next morning, everyone's expressions said, "Not fair, kid", and I would wanna say, "I never kicked anyone's ass, so no one should kick mine :P". Sigh. 

My next 4 birthdays were celebrated in our own R-land, and I knew that the old plan was not gonna work here. As the day came closer, I had started to accept that I will be getting birthday bumps this time. I and my roommate, both were quite skinny. Well, my roommate was quite taller than me so he looked even skinnier :P. At the stroke of midnight, on my birthday, people arrived in my room. Hugs and wishes followed and then, the deed. Yes, I was tiny so it was very easy for any two of them to lift me up, and I got my share of birthday bumps. The bad part about this celebration was that there were stories about people wearing their NCC boots especially for giving birthday bumps to their dearest friends. Well, my tiny skeleton made them spare me off NCC boots. It hurt a little, for a while. But, then, they lifted my roommate and he was getting his share of birthday bumps. One guy took out his flip-flop and started giving his share of bumps to him. Just as he went through first flap on his hips, it literally turned my roommate upside down. Everybody was literally rolling on the floor laughing on that sight. It became even easier to beat his tiny bums with those flip-flops :P. Then there were usual celebrations in hostel canteen and a treat in a restaurant. Second year onwards, I had shifted to another hostel with smaller group of friends. The tradition went on for next two years, without the beating part though.

The last birthday celebration in R-land had a lot of nostalgia added to it. For past three and half years, we had made some truly great friends, and the time was coming close to say it all a heartfelt goodbye. Well, I don't need to say what happens to saying goodbyes, if you start adding a little alcohol to it :P. Daaru-chapos were getting common way to celebrate someone getting a job or for someone's birthday or for any god-damn reason to spend some quality time together. I was mostly on the non-drinkers' side, having fun of the conversation and then, reminding everyone the next day what they did :P. So, it was my last birthday and there was a cake. And, then some daaru. And, then there was a rage against a Professor X. Let me back you up a little. We had classes on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays and we tried to move the classes from Mondays and Fridays along with other classes on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but the Professor X didn't agree to move his classes, citing simple enough reason that he didn't want us to have long weekends for the whole semester. So, coming back to my birthday now. It was Thursday night and after having cake and some drink, we all had "some great fun" and went to sleep. Next morning, at 9 am sharp, kids had to go for Prof. X's class. And, the professor began telling a story putting his sarcastic smile on his face. It went on as, "Something funny happened last night. Somebody locked my apartment door from outside". Well, what else can I say. Apart from that, we had our legendary Goa trip few weeks later. And, that Goa trip will remain the best birthday gift I ever got. Thank you folks.

Birthday bumps on my 25th :-/

Nostalgia of leaving R-land was just getting over when I landed in the alien land of US of A. First birthday celebration was okay following similar tradition as college. I was still nostalgic about my last birthday celebration in R-land though.  I didn't know a lot of people back then, but slowly I have made some truly amazing friends here. Then I turned 25. Time passed by. This year, I had my last birthday celebration with these amazing folks. Yes, they will be friends for life. Yes, I will miss you guys a lot, wherever I will be. With all this nostalgia, I look forward to exploring the adventure of being in a new place pretty soon and begin a new phase of my life. Soon enough. 

शब्द खोये से क्यूँ हैं

शब्द खोये से क्यूँ हैं, 

शायद किसी की तलाश में हैं

जब कभी उस पार झाँकने की कोशिश करता हूँ मैं 

एहसास एक ऐसा झकझोर जाता है मुझे 

उन्हें सामने न देख कर 

कई टुकड़ों में बिखर जाता हूँ मैं

कई बार कोशिश की, 

यादों को शब्दों में पिरोने की

शायद, वापस जा सकूं, 

जहाँ अपने रास्ते अलग हुए थे 

कशिश वो सीने में आज भी है, 

शायद शब्द इसलिए कतरा रहे हैं 

इतना दर्द संभाल कर भी 

जीता रहा हूँ मैं इत्म्नान से 

शब्दों को डर है मेरे हौसले से 

शायद उन यादों के भंवर में 

एक बार फिर टूट कर बिखर जाऊँगा मैं ।

Growing up

In a few months, I will be turning 27 and I wonder almost everything about this age of transition from young to adult. The concept of growing up is still an enigma to me in many senses. There are some situations, where I really don’t want to grow up, for example my hopeless romanticism ;). I recently had a long distance crush on someone and I was stupidly so not ready to let go. But, then I grew up a bit ;). One of my friend had shared a status on Facebook when he turned 25, mentioning how we are not cool ones anymore to hang out with our college going friends; how we are not so grown up to even hang out with matured family oriented friends of ours; how our neighbors and distant relatives just see us as a potential groom for some distantly known girl they know of; blah, blah, blah. In all senses it conveyed a nuance of messiness in this age of transition I am going through and I kind of feel, well not a lot but, a pinch of it, too. There are times when I could feel a conflict between dying adolescence and a domineering maturity, be it about making a relationship decision or a career related decision, egotistically saying not to become irrational and stupid. There are times when I could feel I wish I had not grown up. Strangely enough, the ambitious one in me has grown up into a more complacent one, a more compromising one. The journey of growing up has taught me so much more and most importantly I have learned to choose what I want to become. We all go through this, I believe. We learn to hide things from close family members, we learn to make new friends, to come out of a bad break up, and we learn to make ways for our once closest friends to leave from our lives. Life keeps on surprising us every now and then, and yet, we feel that we understand life better. Yet, we love the life more, not only because what we are left with in our lives, but more because of the journey we have just been through. It brings out so many promises, promises of what else could come further down this journey, who else we could meet there and how would we change ourselves, for better or worse. None of us knows. And, that makes it more exciting. Yes, I agree we all miss our carefree childhood, but it’s these promises which keep us going. Yes, we do want to look back, once in a while, and it makes us nostalgic, and I especially try to gather up strength from that to shrug off that nostalgia, stand up and walk again. We grow up.

She was cute

(This is almost a year old post, had it on my facebook notes, just putting it here too :))

Dunno why I'm writing it now, but all of a sudden, her bright face wandered through my senses. Throughout my undergrad life, I travelled for at least 20 hour long journey by train, during vacations, back and forth home. Taking the bus at midnight, from R-land to catch the early morning train from the capital, had been the way I went through. Standing at the platform, near the train, first thing would come to my mind, if there would be a cute companion in the compartment and I would scan through the seating chart. Well, it wasn't just me. Probably everyone of us would've done that. Unfortunately, yours truly never got to witness a good company. Rather, it had been horrible company, most of the time. I would read some book or just gaze through the window, or would lie down on my berth. Some of my friends would sleep through the entire journey.

Times flew by. I came to United States. Now, the train is replaced by the aircraft. But, the duration and frequency is probably the same: more than 24 hour long journey once a year, across the globe. The situation has become better though. The chances of horrible journey has gone down. There is almost always one gets to have a personal entertainment screen during the flight and I always utilise it fully :). I don't need a book now, and gazing through the window is of no use as the view is almost always the same except during take off and landing. However, chances of having a cute companion seating next has increased. Statistically speaking, by at least 15%. Yes, it's my own stat. I've travelled three times (to and fro) and I had "that cute companion" once, for almost half of the journey.

Her name was Kaitlyn, as exactly as I remember, and she was studing Art at some college in Chicago. Flash back. I saw her at the Brussels airport, in the same lounge where I was waiting for my flight to Chicago and all of a sudden, this thought came to my mind that what are the odds if she could be seated next to me. In a while, boarding begun. I went to my alloted seat, and somebody else had occupied that. Politely, I was asked if I could take his seat. I didn't have any problem in that. Next second, I saw her passing by the aisle. She went to the same row where I was supposed to be seated, and asked the same fellow who offered me to exchange with his seat. For a moment, I was like, "Oh no. Why did I accept this exchange of seat." He was with his kid so he didn't wanna move. He asked her to take his seat and I was thinking, if the vacant seat next to me is the same one he referred her to. Yes, it was. She came and greeted me. I was smiling, from the heart :). We chatted, watched movies, ate and chatted through out the journey. Eight hours, and I'm pretty sure that all the conversation is still fresh in my memorylane :).  Time flew by. We parted. Sigh. She was cute.

This is my entry to the Office of International Affairs' International Photography Competition

Title: Symphony of Expressions

Place shot: Kohlmarkt, Vienna, Austria

Europe: can never get enough of it! (I)

Revisiting old days? Probably not!

It had been four years since I visited this country last time. I didn’t learn to speak their language, last time when I was there, and that was one reason to feel alienated in a completely new world. I had been thinking, probably, I will be facing the same situation this time, but having another intercultural experience for past 3 years, should give me some confidence in getting accepted in this world. Probably, familiarity with the city I was about to visit should also be an added advantage in that respect. Life had taken lots of twists and turns in past four years. Last time when I was there I had comfort zone of Indian friends which I never came out of. This time, it was different. I was alone, and was on my own. And, it was actually for the first time, I was in a place without a comfort zone around. Yes, I was totally on my own. The experience had been extraordinary. I hope I will be doing justice to it when I continue forward.

Since the day it was planned, I had been over excited about the trip. I wanted to visit Rome and Salzburg especially this time. So, I decided to make plans in advance. And thus, I had bought the Eurail pass for the same. It was a business visit, just for five weeks, so basically I had just the weekends to travel around. I did not want to take week days off as well, just because the university was paying me for this short visit. But, I had decided to make as much of my weekends as possible. First weekend was a bit boring, as I had decided to stay around Erlangen. I had been in the city four years ago, and I knew a good deal around so was just observing if things had changed a lot. The Arcaden stood right there where it was, and the Turkish Kebab place, Mamma Mia still existed, and served those delicious Doner kebabs, but soon I felt like there was not much to explore and I got more desperate to get out in the wilderness. So, I made reservations for Rome for the next weekend. As the next weekend came close, my excitement kept going and going until I took breath in sigh. The day arrived, when I was finally to depart for Rome.

My trip to Rome deserves to be told. Yes I had been astoundingly proud to walk through those ruins of one of the greatest ancient civilizations. I had been astonished by the wealth and riches of the Vatican City, displayed in the architecture and aesthetics of St. Peter’s Basilica or Vatican Museum or Sistine Chapel. But before the journey began, there is a story to that itself. I had planned to meet up an old friend, after like 7 years or so, in Rome, but somehow his plan got cancelled and I had to decide if I am to go alone. For long time I had the desire to visit the city and nothing could have stopped me this time. The journey took off.

I decided to take a night train from Munich. While going to Munich, from Nuremberg, I sat next to a very pretty girl, but I couldn’t dare to talk to her. For all that one hour, I kept thinking how to break the ice, but she was so engrossed with her iPod, and I was so afraid if she would be willing to talk, I kept my mouth shut. My heart kept mumbling for some time that I should talk to her but I decided against it. I had one hour at the Munich station and I kept on looking for some Turkish place to savor Doner Kebab, and I finally found one. Yes, it was delicious, but not as good as Mamma Mia. At 9 pm, I finally embarked on the train. As soon as I reached my compartment and was arranging my backpack, I heard a melodious voice behind me, like wind chimes ringing into my ears. That was in German though. Throughout the moment between leaving one train, having Doner and embarking on my train, I had thought of a million things, and among those, my subconscious did have a thought if there are any odds I will meet the girl again, whom I sat next to while coming to Munich. Seriously, were there any? Faintly yes, I suppose. And so, I turned around and asked, “To Rome?” She was with her friend, and both replied negative. Both had to disembark in Austria. After getting done with my luggage arrangements, I tried to get involved in the conversation again. Then two other Dutch girls and an American boy joined us in the compartment. I took another breathe in sigh that at least there will be somebody whom I could talk to without interrupting the conversation. Four of us, other than the two girls I talked about previously, were headed to Rome. So, yaay. In a moment, I broke the conversation of Austrian girls again, and this time I could get a decent look on her cute countenance. Suddenly something struck me in awe. I had earlier described that the odds of meeting that girl were very faint, right? And, luckily the dice was rolled perfectly. It was her. I couldn’t stop my heart to smile. I didn’t want to. She definitely had an affectionate smile. And, indubitably she was one of the prettiest girls I have ever encountered in my whole life. Yes, the poet in me wanted to write a poem right then, but it would have been too much of hopeless romanticism, so I decided against it :P.

to be contd.

An urge

I have always been bad at reading. Rather, horrible. Even at writing. Not to mention, speaking as well. Though, I do have written some beautiful Hindi poetry, but rest aside, nothing puts a slightest bit of gravity to my persona. School life essay competitions had been rote based, which pretty much sucked. No body cared to tell me that I should read some good literary pieces. In fact, no body around ever did that, so I never even got to know that there is something apart from school learning, and the two-three odd Hindi newspapers we used to get. A television came to my house, when I was in 7th grade. And, then I got to watch some news or whatever movies Doordarshan would air on the weekends. My sporting life never came out of playing gully cricket, and as my parents or others would say, it was the reason I never grew taller :P. I really sucked at sports. Once there was a sporting event organized at my school, (and yes, that was the only one in the 10 years of my precious childhood I spent at that school) and one of the events were high jump. I remember that I ran from the mark and as soon as I reached near the rope, I couldn't dare to jump over. I stopped, took a breathe and slid under the rope :P. I should have been disqualified, but they forced me to try again, this time, lowering the rope a bit. And, yours truly reached the rope, stopped and hopped over. Yes, I was that bad in sports. Until, I was done with tenth grade and moved out of that small village I grew up in. Then, I started seeing a bigger world. I started broadening my horizon. Yes, I had missed a lot. But, I don't regret that. There is no point in doing that. My parents have done wonders for me to give me a blessed life. You wouldn't believe me, when I say that, my father has taken me on his bicycle 12 km to and fro, to my coaching place, when I had started preparing for engineering entrances. I never dared to even learn bicycle. Even today, I don't know how to ride one. Yes, that really sucks, and I should regret that. But I don't :P. I was a timid child, and very shy. One more funny incident I can share here. One day in school, one of the girls in my class was giving chocolates to everyone because it was her birthday, and I ran out of class, because I was too shy to wish her happy birthday. Yes, that also sucks, but probably the environment I grew up in made me this. In school, we boys were punished to sit beside girls, so that we don't disturb the class decorum. That was one reason, I started getting alienated from girls. And, added to that came three years of all boys schooling and then, further at coaching place, all boys group. Though, the seniors from my coaching institute, who had already joined some good institutes, had felt that we should also be given a chance to broaden our extra curricular skills at the coaching place. Then started UTSAV, an annual fun-filled event with lots of great opportunities to learn. There was the first time, I participated in a debate competition. I remember I was so freaked out on stage that for the first one minute I just mumbled and then I started reading the hand out I had prepared for myself. I probably was the sole weak point in my team and the reason for us to lose. But, I tried. Seniors were smart. They had realized that kids like me would try anything to avoid participation, so we were forced to participate by the fear of expulsion from the coaching place. I had tried to participate in extempore once, and I went on stage fearless. Stood before the microphone, and as I started my first sentence and glanced over the audience I was addressing to, my heart just sank. Not a single word came out of my mouth for next two minutes. I was just standing there, silent. There are few other incidents like these too. Only good thing I could get from those that slowly I was overcoming my fear to give it a try. But, that was the place which started shaping my persona. I made some truly great friends, two of them I can indubitably call my best friends, who have always been there for me however stupid I become. It's true, I do stupid things too often :P. There I started to read something other than the text books. That was the time when I had written my first Hindi poem, though I don't have any record of that, and I don't even remember any lines from that. Though, during my undergrad, I didn't explore much of that area, I did start blogging, and kept writing few poems now and then. I was very fortunate to have some really good friends who have been awesome in literary skills. So, that exposed me to some good piece of blog posts, some wonderful movies. But, after getting done with my undergrad, I kind of stopped following blogs or even posting myself.

Recently, however, I have come across a few amazing personalities, which has brought out a sudden urge in me to get back to follow their blogs, write my own. I hope I will start doing some justice here.