Ballad

आंखों में इतनी नींद हैं, के क्या बताऊँ
पर ये तेरा इंतज़ार हैं के सोने नहीं देता

It is a dark night. Only 4 cubicles in the compete workhall are lit with those gloomy low voltage tubes. It's the GA day for the release and we have just fixed 4 issues. The five of us are waiting with bated breath as we see the builder nearing the completion of the build...

अब और ना तड़पा मुझे जालिम
कहीं ये चाहत मेरी जान ना ले ले

And there it is. The last thing that can go wrong in a day that has been spent in fire fighting release issues- the builder has failed.

तमाचा मारा होता तो ठीक होता
ये धोखा देने का अंदाज़ वार कर गया

We are looking at the screen blankly. We are tired and sleepy.

तेरे दर पर आए हैं
खाली हाथ तो नहीं लौटेंगे

I restart the builder and force a build.

तुम चाहो भी तो हमसे
दूर नहीं जा पाओगे
चाहो कहीं भी जाकर बस जाओं
आख़िर हमारी ही बाहों में आओगे

A build! In all its tar.gz glory. One of the most beautiful sights we have ever seen. We are at peace now.

तेरे काँधे पर सिर रख कर
मूँद ली हैं जो आंखें
आने दो नींद को जी भर कर
अब ख़्वाबों में होने दो बातें

Magic Trick

There is something extremely magical about a child's eyes. All emotions seem to be magnified in those pools of wonder, mischief and innocence. It's such a challenge to keep this innocence intact as they grow up. Knowledge inevitably takes away their playfulness over years, like a sad necessity.

But there are some people out there who retain that innocence, wonder and mischief. And more often than not- these are some of the most creative people around. They are people who are always in control- people who do not falter or waver in making some really difficult decisions. But what is really interesting to watch is how they tackle a problem. Along with some deep lines on their foreheads noting the perplexity of the situation- they also have that quintessential twinkle in their eyes which says "Wow- look at this mess.. This is going to be interesting to explore..." It's as if a child is working on a puzzle, completely oblivious to everything else. Just like a child never doubts that it will find a way out, these people have full faith that they will come out of the problem. And their unadulterated confidence itself sounds the victory bell.

It's not bad to grow up. But it's important that we never let the child in us go quite. No- I don't mean that we go around trying to fit ourselves in a pram or head for a tin of Cerelac. What I mean is that we need not let this growing-up business seed any disbelief in us. Experiences are worth only something- they don't mean world.

Know the trick- don't let growing-up seep so much into you that it holds down the careless soul that is as free as the wind.

More or Less

So it looks like I have received quite a lot of attention for the *less posts, in mails and messages. Which is why, before going ahead, I need to clarify one thing. I first want to thank everyone who was concerned about what was happening. Thanks people- I truly appreciate the fact that you regularly follow my blog posts - I shall keep writing for all you people always!! And secondly, there is nothing wrong with me. I am not upset, and I am definitely not depressed. It was not pain or agony- but a mere poetic streak which churned out these posts.

What I was trying out here, was a theme of the five senses being amiss- what it would feel like to suddenly find one sense missing in everything we do. Not in terms of the physical aspect, but the emotional one. Which is why, I took one piece of poetry at a time- Hindi alternated with English- each piece signifying an event/incident talking-about/leading-to directly/indirectly one sense. Looks like it was totally senseless. Haha :)

Not all these posts were meant to sound sad as such. In fact, I would say that except for the first one- Colorless- all others were not sad and had totally different ideas in them. Soundless talked about immortality. Scentless was a simple narration of the present. Wordless was a joyous admission of an inability to capture an emotion. And while Touchless had a very solemn tone (with "tears" and all)- it spoke of finality, which is not necessarily happy or sad.

Each one of us faces overwhelming emotions once in a while, which leave us a bit numb and unable to react. In each of these times, our senses kinda refuse to respond. It's when less becomes more.

In purely emotional terms, extreme joy and extreme sorrow are almost the same. Enjoy these emotions to the hilt. Live them as much as you would live any other moment. And you will see poetry coming out of the brightest and darkest hours alike.

Touchless

No! Don't touch it
He shrieked
It's not for you
To have it
It's given already
To be taken care of
Why, you shouldn't even
See it
It's far too pure
For your dusty eyes

She raised her face
And looked at him
Then he noticed them
Her glistening eyes
And small paths that
Tears made on her cheeks
It was always hers
He knew it then
As he looked into
Her crystal clear eyes

She stood there a while
And left without a word
He never saw her again
And she did not return
But he now knows
What she had always known
In that one moment
He lost it forever
She took what she came for
Without a single touch

Wordless

नज्म उलझी हुई हैं सीने में
मिसरे अटके हुए हैं होठों पर
उड़ते फिरते हैं तितलियों की तरह
लफ्ज़ कागज़ पर बैठते ही नहीं हैं
कब से बैठा हूँ मैं जानम
सादे कागज़ पर लिखके नाम तेरा

बस तेरा नाम ही मुकम्मल हैं
इससे बेहतर भी नज्म क्या होगी

~ गुलज़ार