Memory of a thought....

Each step i take towards you,
makes me see myself
more clearly...

As i call out your name,
my voice is already full of
your memories...

I raise my hand to hold yours,
our fingers are already
intertwined..


My smile resonates in your eyes,
and my eyes see more clearly
when they see you
smile....

When i think of you,
it's like i already know
you..

When i long for you,
i just close my eyes...
and there you are,
all mine..

And i look for you
no more...

Muse, Moment and Me.. in the swirl of life..

Now, let me start by confessing that I would like to write more often. I would certainly not want to come to writing like this, as if visiting an emotional brothel (a term used by a friend that has stayed with me), while life becomes a swirl of emotions. When you do not know how to move or even to sit still, when that ache has it's own existence in your heart.

Then do i procrastinate writing because i am busy, or am i just plain lazy, or do i prefer dreaming to actually get down to write it down? Honestly, I have no clues. I guess my fingers are betrayed my my mind, that does not belong to anyone, not even to me!

The point where i am either clueless about or too deeply engrossed in my feelings, writing helps find me. The moments when feelings and thoughts become so enmeshed that you no longer know what you think and what you actually feel. Then there are moments when i am too sad, writing is a definite, no wait not definite but a therapeutic way to heal. Oh and i am never ever trying to deny that feeling. I would rather want to let it linger. That ways one heals something that still stays with you, for it inspires emotions of different kinds, makes you see life and people differently.

Then why should i write, pour myself out to the extent of being exposed...and share all that i may want just to hide in me. Why give all of you a glance of something that's so me that i rather feel possessive about it.

May be writing is no different than dancing, it is also an expression so personal that art and the artist are inseparable. Written word becomes the writer and writer lives in his words as dancer is nothing more than his/her dance. Dancer is also nothing while he/she is not dancing.The idea of writing and dancing is my own muse, but i still share it with you all, knowing some of you may love it or hate it.

I do dance and write for myself, first and foremost, the viewers and readers are subsequently part of my art. My art! look at that term, so selfish a venture and so self -satisfying that i am nothing without it, i do not feel anything without it It is not self -obsession, it simply is me.

A dash of disappointment

Disappointments have a way of getting to you..
Don't they! Just strike you when you are least expecting them and hit you like lightening, weigh you down like unrequited love and feel like the sadness of being woken up from a beautiful dream. And like all of these they are so real, that you feel them with a physical pain.

I can see raised eyebrows now, for i am not the kinds lots of my friends associate with the word disappointment. Now the word disappointment is also not a small one, it encompasses so many meanings - different to each one of us. Also, isn't it the maturity level we all yearn for, to have that perfect mask for ourselves and our lives, which we hardly drop, ever! The task to continue to look normal, follow a conventional life; look special and yet belong to the society, such perfection!
Beneath that we all have our share of sad memories, some unfinished tasks, unfulfilled dreams, unheard voices and a dash of disappointments.
I too have the choice to disown all that does not suit my image, that i may have so carefully portrayed and put up, but that does not change much for me. My life remains the same,for there is so much one can run away from one's own life, one's reality.
Despite all these heavy words, the feeling that's making me spit it all out and still smile as i write, is the life in me that says, "Go on Girl! there is yet a lot of life to live out there for you!"
If disappointments are the price i pay for living my life and loving myself, then i must say, it's not been a bad bargain so far! I have not taken the easy way out to turn to cynicism or to become a pessimist.
I still love with all my heart, i do smile with my eyes and my heart, i do believe when i dream of you, you actually miss me and i have so many dreams, that it's silly to let these disappointments disappoint me...

क्यूँ तुझे मिलने से तेरा इंतज़ार प्यारा है मुझे

बेक़रारी ही सही ...

जिंदा होने का एहसास तो है.

तुझे ख्वाबों में ही पा लूं...

तू आएगा ये आस तो है.

आ कर सब कुछ मुझे सौंप गया,

देकर आंसुओं की सौगात..

कुछ ऐसे रखा था मेरे हाथों में हाथ....

की दुनिया ही छोड़ देने चली थी मैं...

बस मैं वो और हम दोनों साथ..

बस एक गलती जो मैंने की

तो मुड के देख लिया इस दुनिया को,

जब लौटी तो सपना टूट चुका था

बस आँख ही गीली सी रह गयी थी ....

Silence and smile...

Strange we are...
i say we are different,
and you keep reminding me
how can two people be so alike...

i lived and thought after that...
you thought a thousand times,
and that's how you lived.

i danced, you did not dare to,
i felt, you rationalised,
i oscillated, balance was your nirvana,
i looked happy, when my heart cried,
you had lines on your forehead
even when u smiled...

my words were your solace,
your silence was mine.
you loved the earth,
but i wanted to fly...
but no matter where i went,
your heart was my hearth.

when ever i asked you to leave,
you smiled and stayed,
i asked you once to stay,
and that was then you walked away,
to never look back...

At time we met without seeing each other..
i knew we were not meant to be,
you said, no, we go away and meet again
for we are destined to be...

and now, after all this i do feel..
may be, we were meant to be..
only we did not know..

i got lost in your silence,
you were fooled by
my smile...