See You Again

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She was the inspiration behind the first poem of my life. Oblivious of what is going on with her and without any thought of her since I don’t know when, she appeared unexpectedly. Not in my thought, but in front of me. I thought Goa trip was over, memories of the trip were over. But they were not. It was the last phase in the journey back to home of the finally executed Goa trip, from Katraj to Nigdi. She boarded on the bus, searched for a place hastily. As she entered, I noticed she was wearing bangles, the same ones a girl wears after marriage. The same style. I thought she was married. My heart pulsated. I don’t know why. She settled down. I looked at her, and I am not sure if we exchanged glances or she remembered who I am, because I shied away as I anticipated she will turn her gaze toward me. No, it was not possible. She can’t be married. I don’t know why I was concerned about her marital status. She was my crush and I never talked to her. Not even once. What should I do? Should I talk to her or let it be the way it was?

After 12th standard, I saw her once, not once, twice, at two different bus stands. Both times, she didn’t see me. This was the third time. Again, I thought about whether to talk to her or not. I had never dared to talk to her in 12th standard, given her confrontational, sassy, and cocky nature. In addition, this indecision and chaos was result of terrible past experiences of initiating conversations. Once I initiated a conversation, I got scolded from teacher, peon, and principal. Then in another incident, I got a patronizing look from a girl, her disposition showing I am a downmarket pervert. Then I approached a girl and she turned around and walked away with a face like nothing happened. I felt like I had been misunderstood every time. This history loomed large over my capacity of decision-making when it came to the matters of the heart. This time, I feared, would not be different. I would try to say something and it might backfire. I decided to let it be the way it was. I don’t want to end up getting scolded from bus conductor, beaten up by fellow passengers, and thrown out at 11:30 pm for misunderstanding that may arise. There was no transport available besides cabs at that hour. Enough with shitty excuses, the truth was meri fatt rahi thi. Yes, meri fatt rahi thi.

The crowd was less as the bus moved forward and her conversations on the phone were audible. I learnt she attended her friend’s marriage and those bangles were for that occasion. That was the only consolation for the night. Besides that, my cowardice persisted. I didn’t talk to her. Then she descended at her stop and I did what I always did. I wrote a poetry. She was the inspiration for my first poetry and she is also the inspiration for the following poem I wrote.

तकदिरकी साजिशोंमें कही कोई राझ छुपा तो नहीं,
इत्तिफ़ाक़तले मिलने वाले मुसाफिरों की कही मंजिल एक तो नहीं..

मिलन लिखा हो तकदिरमे, तो मिलेंगे फिर इक बार इत्तिफ़ाक़तले,
पर उस दफा, मंजिल की परवाह किए बगैर, बस उस सफर की खूबसूरतीतले।

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P.S. In case, you want to read that first poem, here is the link:

https://crazytruefacts.wordpress.com/2014/04/20/quite-quietly/

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Trust Is Beautiful

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Those conversations,
those comfortable silences,
and those rides.

Opening up true selves,
and sharing some funny yet weird stories,
while finding a way through traffic.

There was no judgmental attitude,
no ego, no holding back.

Even if someone knows,
the other person is talking trash,
the trash was listened carefully and attentively.
Sometimes, even responded with more trash.

The trash used to build up and at a point,
both burst out of laughter.

While riding, some moments were breathtaking,
as the crash seemed inevitable,
but somehow it didn’t happen.
Even when it was told to ride safely,
it wasn’t given much attention to.

And though it wasn’t given much attention,
the pillow rider didn’t leave in between.

Because those conversations,
happening during ride built up trust.

Trust, that no matter how roughly the person drives,
I’m reaching home safely.

Trust, that no one is going to judge,
when the other opens up.

Trust, that no one will try to rationalize,
when the other is talking trash.

And the crazy fact,
That trust made those silences during rides comfortable.

Those silences were beautiful.
Those rides were beautiful.
That comfort was beautiful.
And the trust, it’s always beautiful.

आसूओमें शरीक ना हुए तो बात क्या

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शिकायत हमे उस मुकद्दरसे नहीं,
जो हमसे उन्हें जुदा कर गया,
शिकायत हमे उस लम्हे से है,
जो आखरी अलविदे के वक़्त थम नहीं गया |

वो मुस्कुराहटे, वो तकरारे, वो मीठी बाते,
वो यादे, दर्द देती हे जर्रे जर्रे से,
बिछडनेसे कुछ अंश निकल गया हमारे अंदरसे,
तो आजकल हम रहते है सहमे सहमे से |

आसू ना बहे, पागल ना हुए,
चंद दिनों का सफ़र सदियो की तरह ना लगे तो बात क्या,
और उन आसूओमें सदियों का सफ़र सिमट कर,
हम उसमें शरीक ना हुए तो बात क्या |

Because You Are… Irreplaceable

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It doesn’t matter how far you go,
you are always going to be,
In my mind, in my heart, and in my soul.
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

I think, no, I know, for sure,
you have been imbibed in my soul.
Not For a day or a year, but forever.
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

That’s why, wherever you go,
I always find you around me.
The same girl, the same innocence.
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

I have imaginary conversations with you,
I replay our conversations,
And I just smile at myself.
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

Whenever I feel like sharing something,
Something deep, something special with someone,
I think of you, and only you,
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

But you are not there,
So I keep everything inside,
And it stays there forever,
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

The crazy fact,
I don’t even share special moments,
Because the special person is gone,
I try to think of someone else, but I can’t.
Because you are… Irreplaceable.

Taken For Granted, Once Again

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I waited. Counting each second, feeling each breath, listening every sound, and watching every thought. The stomach twisting with hunger, tears dripping with memories, and body shrinking with cold. The hope and anticipation running through every vein. Every heartbeat telling me, she will come. We were meeting after a decade. All the chaos, all the anxiety, all the turbulence, and all the thoughts, about just one thing. When will she come?

But she must had been there. An hour passed since the time we decided to meet. How could not she come on time? Wasn’t she excited to see me?

The impatience growing inside me, those memories replaying in my head, and the recollection of suffering I endured were making me restless. I thought she must have been stuck somewhere. So I started the bike and traced along the path from where she was supposed to come. My eyes craved for a glance of her and she kept them craving.

I returned to the place. I sat there for one more hour. At last, I realized, I accepted, she is not coming. I swirled the chocolate on the road, threw the gift in dustbin, and rushed to restroom to wipe away tears. I looked into the mirror. I could literally tell the difference between my tears and water splashed on my face. I had to wash four to five times. They were tears of unfairness. First, I had to endure the suffering of separation. And now, I had to endure the emptiness. Still, tears didn’t stop. How could they? The crazy fact is, I had been taken for granted. Once again.

In One Sided Love

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‘Where are you going?’

‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Just tell me.’

‘I’m not telling you. Why should I?’

‘Why not? Tell me.’

‘You know, you insisting me tells me a lot about what you feel about me.’

‘Is it? Tell me then.’

‘Yeah, I will tell you. Else you’ll insist on that too.’

‘Cut the crap and tell me.’

‘You’re into me. You are insecure if I’m going to meet someone else. The way you look at me, the kind of names you have given me, and you listen to all my crap. Now, you behave like you have gained rights to know everything about me. And if I hide something from you, you can’t take it. You got to know. You become restless and restlessness leads to desperation to know what I’m hiding.’

‘Yes, that’s true.’

‘But I’m not getting one thing. If you don’t want me to hide something from you, why did you hide this from me?’

‘Because that’s what happens in one sided love. You can’t open up. I have seen that. You don’t look at me the way I look at you, you don’t give me names, and what’s happening with me matters very less to you. I know, you don’t feel the same way I feel about you. And that’s perfectly alright. I’m fortunate that you brought it up. Else I don’t know if I would have told you what I feel about you. And I couldn’t think of any better way to make this happen. The crazy fact, what a privilege it is to be in love with such person who doesn’t love you back, but make things happen for you in the most unexpected yet beautiful ways!’

She Was The One

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“Do you know? I was driving through a narrow lane. Then, I saw a car taking turn and approaching toward me. The lane was narrow, only to let two bikes pass. But the car was sped toward me and I didn’t know what to do. As it approached, I was getting really scared. What am I gonna do? I thought I was about to crash into it. It came closer, when we were about to bump, I went to extreme left, then shifted my handle hastily to left and avoided it from crashing into its mirror. I was an inch closer to wall. I thought I might crash into wall, but I maintained my balance till the car passed and I was safe. I don’t know who was driving the car. That lunatic, pompous jackass! He thought he was driving car means he can get away. What about me? It doesn’t matter if I am safe.”

I rested both of my elbows on the table, putting chin on palms of both hands, and looking at her.

“Are you listening? Do you understand anything? What just happened?” she said.

“No, I didn’t understand anything,” I said. “But I just understood one thing. Your voice is very unique.”

She just gave me a hard look.

“What? No reaction?” I said.

“What do you expect?” she asked.

“You know, I decided this. I knew your voice is very unique. But I thought, I won’t tell you directly. I will tell you when I’ll listen to you, but pretend I didn’t listen to you or understand a word you said. That’s why I looked at you poker faced. Then you are so high of emotions while telling a story about yourself and suddenly I drop a compliment like that to catch you off guard and surprise you. I thought, this is the part where I flirt with you and you blush. And then I pretend like nothing I said was meant to be taken that way, I was just outlining a fact. But it seems, I am very bad at it.”

She shot a hard look again and burst into laughter. Putting her hand onto her mouth, she tried to control it. I was just looking at her, embarrassed. She stopped laughing, looked at me, and again burst into laughter. There I saw. Her eyelids turned downward, her cheeks turned pink, and her laugh ending into a closed mouth smile.

“Now, you are blushing. There you are.”

“Yes, I am. But what’s wrong with you.”

I stared at her. “You know what’s wrong with me.”

We were looking at each other. That moment was the moment when I wanted the moment to stop right there. Just an eye to eye, like the eternity lost, the universe stopped, and the millenniums passed.

And there she knew what was wrong with me.

“Do you want me to spell it out for you?” I asked.

“No need,” she said.

The crazy fact, that was the moment I realized, nothing was wrong with me. I was in my full senses when I fell in love. She was the one.

बस छीन ना लेना हमसे हक़….

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होश हमारे उड़ाकर, क्यों मदहोश हे हम, पूछ रहे हो आप,
घने अँधेरे में खूबसूरतकी नुमाइश करने वाले, उस चाँद से भी खूबसूरत हो आप।

धुंधले लगने लगे हे मंजर, जिसे हम खूबसूरत कहा करते थे,
धोका दे रही थी हमारी नजर हमे, जिन पर हम नाज किया करते थे।

नजरोसे भी भूल हो जाती हे कई बार, खूबसूरती को परखनेमे,
और अल्फाज भी कम पड जाते हे, किसीकी तारीफ़ करनेकी आजमाइशमे।

अंजाम भुगतने के लिए तैयार हे हम, खूबसूरतीकी परिभाषा करने में जल्दबाज़ी करनेका,
बस छीन ना लेना हमसे हक़…. आपके इश्क में फना हो जानेका।


(Image courtesy of winnond at FreeDigitalPhotos.net)

The Dusk of Desire

The sun lazily crept down the horizon as they held each other’s hand enjoying the view in front. The fog leapt hills adjoining the dam and greenery adorned the hill. Seated on a high wall beside the dam, their eyes twinkled as they watched the water flow calmly; the soothing effect reached deep into their minds. A gentle breeze blew every now and then, sending slight shivers through their veins. The surrounding greenery soaked into their sub-conscience, they looked into each other’s eyes. She gave him an affectionate smile. He held her closer, sliding his hand comfortably over her shoulder. They turned back their gazes to experience the magnificent beauty of the scenery that lay ahead. Immersed deep into the profoundness of the moment, they hardly realized that this would be another priced addition to their treasure of memories.

It was in that moment when they were dissociated from the rest of the world. Their cellphones stashed aside, it was their eyes which did the capturing – slowly acknowledging each other’s presence and the surreal atmosphere around.

‘This is too beautiful to be real!’ she remarked.
‘Yes. And so are you,’ he nudged.
‘But I am here. With you, right now!’
She edged closer.
‘Don’t act all surprised. I know you think you are the most beautiful in the world.’
‘Yeah… That’s right!’ She shrugged.
‘And you have no idea how ‘right’ it is!’
He smiled.
‘Let’s do it now,’ she said.

They propped against each other and stood up against the blowing wind. Both looked down at the flowing water once again – towards the blinding white froth that would act as the end-curtain to their epic stories.


This post was written in association with my friend, writer, and a nyctophile, Anamika Kumari.

Just Be Here

She sat beside him and looked deeply into his eyes. Her eyes radiated an immense adoration for him.

‘What?’ said he as her gaze startled him.

‘Nothing,’ clarified she, endearingly.

‘Say it, nah!’

‘Nothing… Just be here.’

And she rested her head on his shoulder, held his hand, and closed her eyes.

The crazy fact is, someone’s mere presence is enough to fade away the feeling of loneliness.