Moth and the light.

I speak of love most of the times
I dream of it: it  must be this way
People might express in this way,
Or may be the way through which
that actor confessed.
I move from flowers to buildings,
just to find out how it should be
expressed.
Should we write?
Should we bend on knees?
Do what?
In the middle of this
ethnographical research,
I found out
(Of course, to my surprise.)
That the most beautiful love story
Is so short that
It can never be written
Never be expressed.

These days.

These days,
a seed is scared of the soil
what if it makes me grow?
And then restricts
my growth just before
I reach close to the birth
of the leaves

This seed is scared of water
It feels that may be
I'll just bloom into a plant
and then this water turns
to a diminishing fire on me

"Nothing can be predicted."
The seed mutters a soliloquy,
"These days,
even the tongue has to be
scared of the teeth."

Voice

I hear a thousand voices

in one familiar voice

If there's a collection 

of human archives,

it indeed is our voice

we speak of the unspoken

or of spoken pasts

that has become a cliche

Intonations and pitches

make us discover people

and invent their emotions

sometimes in the art of imitation

sometimes in unknown deliberation

Your voice could remind 

somebody of Dashrath's promise

It could imitate Shakuntala's pain

Your voice can certainly

become some musician's delight

It could raise thunderstorms

or it could burn everything

with the permutation and 

combination of certain notes

You never know

what it could have done

what it has actually done

You delve in your own ears

when you should actually

delve into somebody's voice!

~Nishpriha

I have plucked your voice

and put them on my ears

just like a pair of earrings~Gulzar

और दूर कहीं रोशन हुआ एक चेहरा! (Somewhere, a face lit up)

Ever thought of the Jungian concept of collective unconscious? What has been coming as bright has been bright since ages. Darkness, pain, noise has been always depressing. It is actually ingrained in a human instinct to get scared of darkness. This dates back to the Darwin's theory too. The only thing that would end up taking somebody's life was darkness since the primitive times. You could fight back an animal or some monster if you could see it. What if you don't? Then you lose.

Darkness has a lot of interpretations~ 1) You were blinded by some thought and so couldn't see it. (Kept in the dark types)
2) Blinding yourself to the things around (Deliberate attempt, those masochistic instincts)
3) Things are actually dark. (There can be this possibility where everything is out of your control)


But then in all these cases, you are actually walking along darkness.

The best thing to happen is some light, at the end of the tunnel. And that's the ray of hope.

तन्हा तन्हा दिल अपना 

और दूर कहीं रोशन हुआ, एक चेहरा 

(My heart is lonely, everything seems dark

And somewhere, a face lit up)

This Jungian framework of mind lights up when one sees that countenance with a smile.  That one face with a lot of positive energy. That could be of anyone. Could be of a simple rickshaw driver who talks about traffic jams with you. That one face could be of a small child who smiles at you in the metro. That could be of a juice maker who knows about your preferences~ Salt/no salt, Sugar/No sugar. That could be of a shopkeeper who knows you would never have coins to give him as change...

Or of a person

who watches you,

listens to you

Doing all this :)

Typing, Stereo.

"If your daily life seems poor, do not blame it; blame yourself that you're not poet enough to call forth its riches; for the creator, there's no poverty."~ Rilke

We always try to uncover the science behind everything but we miss out on the present that walks with that thing. All we are usually interested in, is what makes this? Or what will it become? These two poles separate us from the present that lies in the midway. The path is so very beautiful that it acts like an entity on it's own. But we usually don't care. Our judgements tend towards how it started. Also, we take pride in the fact that we could predict the future. Our present becomes just an action of prediction, removed from the action.

When I see people around, I see that even the everyday life of a human being has become an act of prediction. If I eat this, will it help my body? Does this juice contain enough multivitamins I need? That glass of some liquid (I choose not to name it because the one who drinks it sometimes doesn't even bother about it) is gulped down in some seconds with a proud countenance that some time has been saved in not thinking about the kind of liquid that was gulped down. Things are usually kept ready. Food, table, clothes, emails, templates etc. All we really need to do is~ just predict. (This prediction is also based on what has been already predicted by the stereotypical predictors) 

The worst kinds are those who never experience, or don't even know how it started but they predict. Most of these are based on their conventional thought processes and on the borrowed stereotyped notions. It never fails to amaze me how the brains of these people work. I have this turn off button in me when I see people jumping to the traditional set up. For example, I agree when people crib or complain about the mindset of people who are inclined towards only one form of society/culture. 

"They just don't know! They are not aware about these sitcoms Grey's Anatomy, Big Bang Theory and so many other funny things." 

I have heard these complaints. I talk about all these things with these people, including their Iron Maiden, Metallica and the Guns and Roses stuffs. It's not that I get bored or something. But I wonder that if I wanted to talk about Ghalib, Gulzar, Farida Khannum, Bharat ek Khoj, would they be interested? I have had negative experiences in the latter ones. People have limited their own mindset and stopped relishing almost everything. You don't think and relish. You relish and think about it. 

Grass usually is green beneath your foot. Just cut the weed of your own thought process and see how it pleases you!

यूँ भी सोचा जाए

यूँ भी सोचा जाए :

शब्दों में भरती है स्याही 

हमारे सोच की कलम 

हरे रंग में भर दिए जाते हैं 

कुछ चहकते पत्ते 

इठलाती चाल में जैसे 

रख दिए जाते हैं पानी के पैर 

सुगंध में सराबोर कर दिए जाते हैं 

मोगरे के फूल 

नीले रंग को उछाल उछाल कर 

बना दिया जाता है आकाश 

आवाज़ के घर में 

एक नन्हा सा दिल 

और भावनाओं के चादर पे 

सुला दिया जाता है इंसान 

उसकी सिलवटें बन जाती है 

ज़िन्दगी...

एक गिलहरी, जिस में भर दिया गया मेरा हाथ! 

Spectrum :)

"I am going to seriously kill you all if you don't go away."
Usually, I don't get the element of anger in me but during the festival of Holi, one can see that on my cheerful disposition. I have always hated Holi, I felt that on that day, suddenly, I was affected by OCD and went berserk. Nobody was allowed in my room, even at home or in the hostel. I used to lock it and kept lot of snacks in case people are standing outside with their armor of colors. I wondered why people enjoyed it when it is all about getting dirtier and crazy? 

I waited in the bathroom for three hours in the hostel so as to not get colored and wet. I would use my acrobatic skills when people threw water from the small hole above the door of the bathroom. My pitch would suddenly gain energy and I would curse all who tried to break my meditation. That's how my Holis have been, since ages. The meditation day, the cursing soliloquy and the scared soul.

This year, I decided to move to my uncle's place for rescue. I couldn't trust the neighbors for their enthusiastic behavior on festivals. A day ago, as I was going on the street, somebody threw a balloon and I shouted on the top of my voice, "This is not the day you can do what you want. Nonsense. Stupid fellow, Holi is tomorrow."

The moment I came unscathed, I rushed to my uncle's place. I had taken a couple of old clothes, if needed in the urgent cases. Next morning, I told everyone about my fears. My sweet little cousin said that he would just throw a little of water and some dry eco-friendly colors. I agreed. 

Well, it didn't stop at those convincing materials. It increased to what not.  We went to so many relatives, getting dirtier, bedraggled and what not. I was reduced to some strange looking street urchin who has been looking for food since ages or something like that. We were taken to the lawn, lots of clay was rolled on our faces and hair. We certainly looked like someone who has either rescued people with great difficulty or some stupid kids. 

Who would have thought that I would love this experience. But I actually did. I gave me the feeling of liberty. To enjoy every bit. To enjoy in everything. There are days when you have to actually forget about the sophistication on your face and embrace the colors. 

It is only when the sunlight enters the dark clouds, we see the spectrum. One has to let the heart warmen up and experience the spectrum within. :)

Picture composition

The earrings on the couch

Wrist watch close to the paper plates

Laptop on my bed

Snacks near the shoe box

Slippers on the adaptor

Books on the dining table

Shirts and bags on the bookshelves

Only the idea of meeting you seems 

to be organized.

Confession

Faith can rest in a small flower :)

Faith tickles your incertitude

it laughs out loud

so loud that voices

of the despair aren't heard

In this laughter

you rejoice

suddenly this feeling

looks like deja vu

because you actually do.

The planned conversation 

did happen

you're so much lost

what happened first?

the action or the feeling

you're unable to recall

they all merge in one

Bliss lies in this

where you haven't confessed

and the confession knows

that it has traveled

to the place

it ought to be. 

And I missed the golden gate! :)

"I list your gifts in this creation:

Pen, paper, ink and inspiration.."

Music and Literature have been always the similes/metaphors for me, or for that matter~ all the Arts. And that's why when I read An Equal Music by Vikram Seth, I fell in love with it, right at that moment. There were other reasons too, like my favorite people loving that book, so this was an add on factor. 

I actually ran across the works of Bach, Beethoven and those German magicians who made western classical seem great for me. Symphony number 9 has definitely been included in my daily chores, like when I cook, when I eat, when I read, this has to go on. But the credit certainly goes to Vikram Seth. He made me love Viola, the musical notes~do re mi fa so la ti :)
But above all, I fell in love with the way he understood a woman's heart, her vulnerability. 

Today, I met him. I saw him read his poems, oh the charm! Thanks to Penguin India for organizing the Spring Fever event. The way he read his poems, reminded me of Dylan's "The years shall run like rabbits" in Before Sunrise. He has an amazing sense of humor and I was mesmerized by his voice. He answered every question in a poetic manner, rhyming impromptu. One of them asked him, what should be the key element to become a good writer/poet. He smiled and said, 
"Well poor bird she should have known.
That song must be your own"

He did quote Frost, which was of course so very apt for that moment~ "All the fun's in how you say a thing."

I had grabbed my copy so as to get his signature on the very first page of "An Equal Music". The queue was indeed too long and it took me an hour to get that. But then, I kept myself busy by talking to the fellow passengers of the queue. We had to write our names on a small note so that he writes for us. I had written in Caps, Nishpriha. After sometime, I was playing with my pen and so some words came into my mind. 

I wrote on the same note, 
"Well, this was a little long to wait
But your signature was a bait."

I moment my turn came, I stood there smiling in front of him, thinking he will read it. But he didn't and I didn't say anything either. He wrote my name and I was about to go. Suddenly, he saw it and laughed. He tore that page and said, "I am going to keep this Nishpriha." and I smiled as an affirmative gesture. He said, "And you missed the golden gate"
ha ha, a laughter from me and a reply, "Oh Alas, but now that is my fate" :)
Again, he said, "This is going to be in my pocket!" and he kept it right there! I can't describe how elated I felt. 

This was indeed one of the happiest moments of my life. March, you're still on. Whosoever warned about the Ides of March should also know how wonderful March can be sometimes. (I definitely meant "A lot of times)

Lest we forget how fragile we are.

It is around  five in the evening, I just got out of vivax malaria and I wonder how to figure out things. New place, new office, new work and I have to manage everything. I take things in a funny way, unique things happen to unique people. God has been always planning for me, to get me to the best.

I get an email from my supervisor that my apartment mate, Salma Khan, is going to arrive at six in the morning. I usually get annoyed when I think of getting up early in the morning, but this time, I was definitely excited. She would be with me for the whole year. As usual, I start imagining. Sometimes, I do that only by the name, even if I haven't seen the picture, I imagine what the person could be like, how he/she would look like, what might interest him/her. Two things- either I am stereotypical or that I am a person with crazy imaginations. Whatever that may be, let's just move forward with the story. I imagined Salma. How she could be. May be a very shy girl, who has got more equipments than me to survive in Amherst. May be she knows how to put on make up. May be she has loads of luggage. (I had three big bags for that matter, so I assumed Salma would have probably four)

I wear shorts and a t-shirt, thinking that might create an impression that I exercise a lot, can carry all those bags easily, help her out and make things easier for her. I wonder would she be comfortable, would she talk? (she being so shy, in my imagination)

Anyways,

136,Sunset Ave, Amherst

I put an alarm of 5:50 am, but the usual habit of snooze never goes away. I get up at around 6:15, hurriedly running from the top floor. I reach downstairs, tip toeing so that no one wakes up. I see a beautiful tall girl in a t-shirt and pants. She looks so very beautiful, plaited long hair, thick eyebrows like mine, and a sweet smile. Okay, now I am nervous. All my imaginations have failed me. I just ask, "Salma?" (Other grammatical items like "are" "you" are missing) She says yes, hugs me and asks me "how are you?"(She didn't miss any) I smile and ask about her luggage. She tells me," no luggage."

Already nervous, I say, "No, I mean your luggage for Amherst."
She says again, "No luggage, this is all I have got." ( and she directs her eyes towards a small bag that she has in her hands)

That's so very small, that can be used to keep some toiletries, may be. I am already amazed by the carefree person she is.

I take her to her room. Show her the place and ask her about her trip and all.
She's too good. She traveled from Lahore to Amherst with a handbag, no laptop, no big bags,nothing. God, how?

Our deck, where we sipped coffee and talked nonsense

She has been the craziest girl I have ever come across. She asks me if I have something to eat. I direct towards the refrigerator with my index finger, as if I have no ability to speak. This happens to me when I am awestruck. I either speak a lot, become speechless or I laugh. I did the second one when I met her. There was some Daal I had made the night before. she had it with the bread. No rice, no paratha. God, wow! she's just amazing. Darwin would have loved her adaptability!

This was my sweetheart, Salma Khan.

One of the craziest persons I have ever come across. I used to hate the fact that I am not punctual,love sleeping but she gave me strength to carry on with my vices further. She would run on the street 136 and comb her hair along with it. Sometimes, she would sip tea from the flask and tie her shoelaces to go to the office.

Our way to Umass, where she tied her shoelaces :D

She used to hate if some guy would hit on me. She would protect me from those evil eyes. I remember one time, I was taking something from Umass dining and she saw some guy hitting on me, like trying to talk to me, or to join the same queue. She immediately took my hand and said, let's go somewhere else, like Antonio's. I was like, why? Later, she told me that some guy was hitting on me. I laughed and laughed for hours. I said, may be you misinterpreted. She said, nope. She was just too protective.

She loved the way I danced, the way I dressed up in a saree. She would ask me to do that for her and then she showered me with compliments. Of course, who doesn't like all this :)

I would cook for her all the time.

It's morning and the first thing I do is ask her, "what would you like for dinner?"
She would look at many things and tell me about one. Like, Dahi vada, Potato pastas, egg curry, Daal Makhani, Paninis, lasagnia, paratha bhurji and what not. She used to clean everything and I used to cook.

There are so many such stories. They make us. That's how we were.

She used to read Quran for me and say these lines often- Chapter 95, Verse number 4:
Laqad Khalaq-na al-insana fee ahsani taqweemin

(We have indeed created man in the best of moulds/stature.)

I miss her for everything.To talk about my crushes, what should I do and all that. I miss her.

God could have been a little considerate.

"On and on the rain will fall
like tears from the star
How fragile we are.." (~Sting, Fragile)


Happy Birthday Salma!


मुझसे मिलना फिराक का मिलना 

आप किनको नसीब होते हैं 

आप जिनके करीब होते हैं 

वो बड़े खुशनसीब होते हैं! 

  

Metamorphosis

Metamorphosis~

There are no sequences

No planned interventions either

There are these sporadic moments

you forget

How they landed up together

How it all happened

You go back

connect the dots

It actually completes the picture

Oh no, not complete

It makes the picture

You go along

sometimes in a crazy street

full of people

you sip some tea

You learn about each other's habits

in that crowd

you still learn about each other

Sometimes, you just laugh

on a joke that was meant

only to relish as a laughter 

that moment

later, you give a blush

instead of a laughter

the joke turns into 

a binding conversation

the metamorphosis of moments

the metamorphosis of emotions

all change

and make a complete you

You never know 

what could have made it

Or what it will become

A little interaction

could be for a lifetime

and a lifetime could be

Just 

A little interaction.

~Nishpriha

At Ghalib ki Haveli, Ballimaran, Delhi

(It started with metamorphosis at the top, became me at the end)

Serendipity (Birthday special, may be :) )

It's around four A.M tonight/this morning, a wonderful friend Deepika is sitting right here with me and she suggests that I must, must see a video. I open it up and I see a dance on Bruno Mars' "Marry you".It's just a simple dance, nothing so extraordinary about it. I wonder why she likes it so much, but she insists that I must see the video. Well, I do. And I get tears.

A guy had planned his proposal in this way~ he takes her to a fair and they see a dance on the street. Suddenly, this guy joins them and proposes her. No wonder, she gets so very happy and may be that has been the best surprise for her.

I just think for a second and wonder if something could happen to me too. Well, not a proposal. But at least a crazy surprise. It did.

I had the best birthday ever. Nothing could have made me happier. It started with an carved wooden inkpot and a creatively stitched greeting card. And to your surprise, some amazing people travel places so that they could meet you around your birthday. wow!
You get phone calls from all the people want to talk to, and your wishlist/bucket list has been fulfilled more than you ever, ever expected.

Blessings have been right there with me, love has been with me. I could never ever think that it is so very close. That people think of me every moment, at least they know how much I love my birthday and they do the same :) I have been so very happy on my birthday that I fail to write. Or may be, my words fail to come out here and tell how I loved my day, my week, or this month.

"I was a solitary self among so many others,
flitting around like a wingless footless heart.

From that wine, which bestows grace and laughter,
I was drinking, as a flower does, with no lips or throat.

Then there came a call from Love, "O soul!
Leave this abode of drudgery I created for you"

....
First He led me from the Way
and then brought me back to Way,

I would tell you how to get here, but
at this point, my pen is broken."

~Rumi


:)


Let this go on and on. Please don't stop the music, I can hear it in my heart :)

Letters to Salma :) (1)

They say you wouldn't come back ever. They say you've left us. Whom gods love, die young and all such sort of things.
Well you do know that I don't believe in all this. I have been saying these to people but it's hard Salma. Somedays, I feel you're playing a prank. That you will be back with me soon, skyping, commenting on my facebook status, messaging me, gossiping. The initial 15 days were tough to live, I shouted on top of my voice, Salma..Salma..No one answered. Later on, I realized that you did. Only that I couldn't hear then.

You have been working wonders for me. Yes, Salma, March 2013 has been the best month ever. I know you have been somehow sending me your love. I am receiving it. Every time I have a question, I close my eyes and ask, "what should I do Salma?" and you answer me right then. How did you know what I need? You have been making my birthday month the best. The loveliest of all. The way this month started, I blushed with happiness :) You know all the stories, I don't need to tell you. Right?

The theme of this month will be of course, Yellow. Your favorite. The way you used to say, "Yellow will bring an amazing fellow!" My wardrobe will be covered with shades of yellow, Mummy too sent me yellow dress as a birthday gift!

An year back,
around the same time.. I went to the Hampshire mall with you to buy heels for my birthday party.
"Well, these are amazing, but way too expensive Salma. Let's go home."
After I went home, you know what happened. I craved for the same. All night dreaming how I would look like in them. Usual reaction~" Salma. let's go tomorrow and buy them."
"Alright Nish, as you say." (By the way, I preferred only you calling me Nish)
Next day, at the Mall,
"I like the black ones as well the pink ones too, which one should I pick?"
"get both of them."
"Are you crazy? nope nope."

She went to try on something else while I was busy deciding.
After a moment,
"I got them both for you as your birthday present. Now don't ask for anything." (*wink*)

Huggsss her.

She was my sister, more than a sister perhaps. Writing notes on our dining table everyday. "take care Nish.. Love you"

She has been whispering this in my ears these days.

Otherwise, I wonder if there's any other reason that this birthday month had a great start, and it's getting better and better.

The reason must be you, yes Salma you :)

This is our first picture together, in Boston, near the Charles river. You renamed it from some .jpeg to strangers hahaha.jpeg. It is still with the same name. I am never going to change it. Nor this, neither your favorite Clam Chowder. You will be always with me. With your thousands of pictures and memories.

By the way, you have got a lot of letters from people around the world. I am going to compile it soon and send it.

Love
~Nishpriha

Neruda on Valentine's day :)

If you forget me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine. 

~ Pablo Neruda

Before Sunset

Besame Mucho :)

"I am just so lonely here! I miss you."
"ummmm..." (a sad countenance)

Soliloquy- I have not much left with me, no job, my sister's getting married..I have so many responsibilities. Going to Delhi from Bangalore, hmmmmm..

A thought and a glance at the amount left.

she's leaving tomorrow evening at 5. I have come home from Europe after so long, probably it's been two years or so that I haven't been with my folks.

"to do or not to do?"

Soliloquy- This moment won't ever come back, three hours with her! I must go.

"I have to go to attend a friend's wedding in Bangalore."
"Always busy! when will you back?"
"In a day."

soliloquy- I will reach around 12:30 PM, that gives me three hours with her.. at least I will have a glance of her before she goes back. She will resume her work in the States and I don't want to wait for another four months to see her pretty face.

"I am calling from Hydrabad airport, will be reaching Delhi soon."
"You're crazy, why didn't you tell me? Now how will I prepare? How will I cook?"
"shhhh, no worries.. I'll reach and things will be fine and smooth. don't bother much."

Soliquy- There she is! aah, I missed her smile so much. Flights are rescheduled, things will be messed up, so what! could anything be better than this?

It becomes easier to go crazy and make decisions if you have been fluid enough at many instances. For example, if you could give a share of blanket to your sibling/friends easily, you could think of writing assignments even if you had a lot of work. you could spend some time with people who want to be with you, you are ready for a cup of tea in the midnight if your friend wants, if you did not utter a word till the last cent of your prepaid phone, if you cared for people around~ all these little things make you. They make you a person who will give his life just to see the smile on someone's face.

One has to grow out of his/her own selfishness and increase the radius of care in his heart. One has to know- This is life. What is moving is life. Your food, your sleep, your routine is life. All that you plan in head for future that holds you somewhere in comfortable shoes in future is actually rubbish.

A friend of mine is getting married this year and told me this little secret.. The unplanned trip and the smiles of two people~ Besame Mucho..:)

Tears in my eyes and happiness in my heart.. May they be blessed forever.

(a human heart in me longs for someone who would give me as crazy moments as this one!)

Nahr-i-bihisht

Pitradura 

     A splendor of red sandstone and marbles, Pitradura paintings in the walls, memories of yamuna, seasons like Sawan Bhado depicted in the form of brilliant architecture ~ the red fort is a city in itself. If you walked the road from chandni chowk metro station to the red fort, you will be completely surprised how peaceful it is inside. The road outside seems the busiest in Delhi, but the red-fort exhibits a silence that invites solitude.  You walk in a city, that starts with a umbrella market, something unique from the Mughal period. Small shops, gemstones, bags, memoirs, you get them all.

Move forward and there's a museum that takes you to the mutiny of 1857, guns, gunpowder barrel, swords, army badges, and you breathe the history. A huge German flag, dockyard of Basra and so many other interesting things.

Till here, I was already very much impressed with the Mughal architecture. It amazed me so much when I moved further, Diwan-i-aam and then Diwan-i Khas! Just to beautiful. The river of paradise flowing in the delicate passages, to keep the fort reasonably cool during the scorching heat. If you close your eyes and make your mind's adobe photoshop work, you will fall in love with the place. Green, blue, red sandstone and the Marble with Pitradura paintings. Who wouldn't call this as paradise?
Indeed, Nahr-i-bihisht!



A small shop rests in the corner that houses books of archaeological survey of India and amazing postcards from all over the country.Postcards of Hampi, Champaner, Jaipur and so many. Post card lovers- this is the place.

Memories of Nahr-i-bihisht and the silver ceiling

It would be an understatement to call this place magnificent, you can see the words etched in the Salimgarh fort and imagine the plight of the freedom fighters, hear Jahanara's ghost singing songs to rebel from Aurangzeb's tyranny. Imagine the caps that were made by Aurangzeb and him wearing them to the Moti Masjid. This work art is takes you beyond spatial and temporal. The conquest of ubiquity, as it has been said. The images of this art follows you everywhere.


"The true picture of the past flits by. The past can be seized only as an image which flashes up at the instant when it can be recognized and is never seen again." ~ Walter Benjamin.

अगर फिरदौस बार रुई जमीन अस्त, हामीन अस्तू, हामीन अस्तू, हामीन अस्त ~अमीर खुसरो

बल्लीमारां की गली, जैसे वहां अपने आप में कोई ग़ज़ल है
क्या लिखे कोई उसके लिए, अलफ़ाज़ जैसे हवा में तैरते हैं। कभी रंग बिरंगे दुप्पट्टे, तो कभी खुशबू से भरे मसाले।
ग़ालिब की हवेली जाना चाहती थी, पर सोमवार बंद रहता है, तो वहीँ की गलियों से फतेहपुर मस्जिद की ओर निकल पड़ी। सबने कहा, अरे आगे से चले जाइये, आसान और नजदीक पड़ेगा। मैंने कहा, नहीं थोडा मुश्किल ही रास्ता चुनना चाहती हूँ आज। जिन्होंने रास्ता बताया, मैंने सोचा कि उनकी तस्वीर ले ली जाये। और कुछ नहीं तो चेहरे देख कर तो वापस आ जाउंगी।

यहाँ जैसे एक संसार बसा है, कोई अगर मुझे कहे कि वो ज़िन्दगी में यहाँ से कभी बहार गया ही नहीं, तो मैं मान जाउंगी . सबकुछ है यहाँ, बर्तन, कपडे, मशीन, जूते, बेहतरीन मसाले, पान के पत्ते और न जाने क्या क्या। 

आप भीड़ में चलते हैं, या भीड़ आप में चलती है, ये तय कर पाना मुश्किल है। सबकुछ बिखरा हुआ, पर फिर भी व्यवस्थित। जैसे कि "Law of entropy" एकदम अच्छे से यहाँ निर्देशित होती है। हम सब और "chaos" की तरफ बढ़ते हैं, और जैसे अभी जो भी है, वो भी एक प्रकार का "order in chaos" है। यहाँ की गलियों में सारे विज्ञान पास, और  सारे विज्ञान फेल। वो कहते हैं न, Paradox. आपकी सोच से भी ज्यादा सुन्दर। 

कलाकारों को तो यहाँ जैसे एक अपना जहाँ मिल जाये। किस किस के चेहरे की सिलवटें पकडे? हर चेहरे में एक बेहतरीन नक्काशी। शायद साल्वाडोर डाली यहाँ होते तो camembert cheese की जगह शायद मखाने के फूल देख कर मोहित होते ,  या फिर पान के ढेरों पत्ते। एक कलाकार के लिए तो जैसे यह एक ख्वाब है। 

इस जगह पे जाने से इस शेर को महसूस करते हैं:

"तुम मेरे पास होते हो गोया 

जब कोई दूसरा नहीं होता"

"Dont walk on them, please be careful!"
"I have to, no other way. How else can I get to the books that are on the other side?"

 A frown on my face.

I feel that books breathe and they deserve their dignity. Today's visit to the Daryagunj Market made me so happy. I could have never imagined that I could have got such books. I always felt that I should be adorned by books, before anything. I might have to die, but then these printed pages are the reason for my living. Nothing distracts me, not even my own presence. I was hurt by nail on my palm, I didn't realize till I saw my blood on the pages. People moving, elbowing, some drinking tea, some eating Aaloo chat.Amidst all of them, I was travelling in the marvelous pages. If they are thinking of re-decorating heaven, this could be the best plan. Read about anything, from visual arts to sculptors, from cuisines to law, from comics to competition success review. What not! This market is a delight.
So much so that I had to buy a bag to carry all my books.Such darlings, with so much in them. I think my year got a start from today, these fourteen books~I have got enough air to breathe.

I called up my mother, "You have no idea what happened today!"
And she could sense, some shopping has intoxicated me.
I told her, "They have no idea what they are selling. Books worth thousands in hundreds. I mean, they just don't know."

I have decided that my life will have a room/roof of my own, all these little creatures have to live with me. I am sure the guy I will marry will have his huge library so that I can let them marry my darlings too. Books, brains, wit- perfect aphrodisiac.

Humming Pippa's song,


The year 's at the spring,
And day 's at the morn;
Morning 's at seven;
The hill-side 's dew-pearl'd;
The lark 's on the wing;
The snail 's on the thorn;
God 's in His heaven—
All 's right with the world!

:) 

Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably.

   "A man begins cutting his wisdom teeth the first time he bites off more than he can chew."

  A severe toothache and I started brushing my teeth over and over. I always considered my teeth as some kind of a cloth. Rub it several times, wash, rinse and it'll be great again. So, I did whatever I could. I couldn't sleep whole night, got up and thought what should I do. Cloves didn't help, my sweet sensodyne looked at me, mockingly. Internet should be used for the expert advice. Googled. Put a clove of garlic and I could sleep. The next morning, my shoes were right at the doors of a dentist.

I was very scared but was a little confident because chocolates were of the extinct variety in my bag. So I haven't done anything. May be a tooth- elf could have entered and messed up. She called me in, I deliberately put my hand on my cheeks and make a puppy dog face. She looked at me and gave an awww look. Made me lie down,got some air gun sort of a thing and very sweetly examined.

"Your wisdom teeth are horizontal, the pain must be because of that."
"What? I already have wisdom teeth?"
"yes, all four of them."
(wow kind of feeling, I am so very wise.)
"You didn't have pain when you got them?"
"No, I don't know, when, how..."
(I mean, come on. I should have got hints that I am getting wiser and wiser."

"We have to extract these, they are not vertical and they'll be bothering you."

"Noooooo.. "
(a puppy dog face again, she'll be taking all my wisdom.)

So, I will turn foolish within a couple of months. May be there should have been a movie, The curious case of Nishpriha. But I get new experiences, like the x-ray. Just so wow. Felt like a transformer, who will change into a machine, my teeth in a big machine. The picture of the x-ray takes most of my time. I  so love it, the horizontal ones at the end look like two bulls. I have a bull-fight in my mouth! I suggested one of my friends that I should make it my facebook profile picture. I mean, this is so me. All wars, and still peace. My face with all the crazy thoughts in my mind, this x-ray would be the perfect metaphor.

While I decide for this, I am turning more and more foolish..wait, what did I say? the tooth's going away..

The tooth's going away
Moon takes it
It turns into a full moon.



"Thou and I are too wise to woo peaceably." - The moon knows this and takes some of my wisdom to make things peaceful for me :)