Kuch Ban Jaate Hain

Going through the channel ‘Hindi Kavita’ on YouTube today, I came across another gem. Credits again to Varun Grover. This was one of the poems he wanted to make into a song in the movie ‘Masaan’, but for some reason couldn’t. It is beautiful nevertheless. If somebody could find/give an english translation, that would be amazing.

Hindi Transcription:

Ignore the spelling mistakes, if any, this is my first time typing in Hindi 😛

तुम मिश्री की डली बन जाओ
मैं दूध बन जाता हूँ
तुम मुझमें घुल जाओ |

तुम ढाई साल की बच्ची बन जाओ
मैं मिश्री घुला दूध हूँ मीठा
मुझे एक साँस में पी जाओ |

अब मैं मैदान हूँ
तुम्हारे सामने दूर तक फैला हुआ |
मुझमें दौड़ो | मैं पहाड़ हूँ |
मेरे कंधों पर चढ़ो और फिसलो |
मैं सेमल का पेड़ हूँ
मुझे ज़ोर ज़ोर से झकझोरो और
मेरी रूई को हवा की तमाम परतों में
बादलों के छोटे छोटे टुकड़ो की तरह
उड़ जाने दो |

ऐसा करता हूँ की मैं
अखरोट बन जाता हूँ |
तुम उसे चुरा लो
और किसी कोने में छुपकर
चुपचाप उसे तोडो |

गेहूँ का दाना बन जाता हूँ मैं
तुम धूप बन जाओ
मिट्टी-हवा-पानी बन कर मुझे उगाओ
मेरे भीतर के रिक्त कोषों में
लुक्का छिप्पि खेलो
या कोपल होकर
मेरी किसी भी गाँठ से
कहीं से भी तुरंत फूट जाओ |

तुम अंधेरा बन जाओ
मैं बिल्ली बनकर दबे पावं चलूँगा चोरी चोरी |

क्यूँ ना ऐसा करें
की मैं चीनी मिट्टी का प्याला बन जाता हूँ
और तुम तश्तरी
और हम कहीं से गिर कर
एक साथ टूट जाते हैं सुबह सुबह |

या मैं गुब्बारा बनता हूँ
नीले रंग का |
तुम उसके भीतर की हवा बन कर फैलो
और बीच आकाश में मेरे साथ फुट जाओ |

या फिर ऐसा करते हैं
की हम कुछ और बन जाते हैं |

Sober Notes 7: Lights

During these nights when the moon is red
The sky is black but there is a halo around the moon
It seems confused, trying to be black
But red forces its way through
I saw an electric pole today
With those bright red lights
That are used to warn airplanes!
Only, this one didn’t flicker
And guess what? They became the red stars
And the pallete of the sky was complete
Never had I thought that man’s intervention
Could give birth to a scenery so beautiful
Bright shining red shining against the pitch black
Need I say any more?

-S.

Wishing upon a Star

I found a picture,
Between the tattered pages,
Of an old notebook.
It was a picture of you,
With your teeth shining,
Like the pearls sewn in your dress.
The colour of the sky,
And freshly plucked flowers,
Adorned the laces on your sleeve.
A prettier picture I had not seen.
I look back at those days,
When I asked mother;
“Why did you have to have
another daughter?”
How could I have been so ignorant,
I had always wished for someone magical,
To come into my life,
To fill in the vacant afternoons,
To be a partner-in-crime,
To be all mine.
What would have I ever done without you?
You are the greatest gift ever.
I never wished for anything again.

Letters for Love/Being Unwanted (Guest Post)

Before you wonder why I didn’t title this post ‘Love Letters’ or ‘Letters of Love”, I want to explain and ask you at the same time what Love means to you? To me it means so many things, even hate, but this is a letter written for Love, not out of Love, not about Love but just for it. Make what you can of it. 🙂

Oh and also Special thanks to our writer, i.e. not me but someone who I begged to write this for me, since I have been too busy with work. And he hasn’t let me down. I love your writing, I really do. Here it goes:

BEING UNWANTED

So today, I will like to confess one of the feelings that come to me more often than others. I, for some reason, always find myself with people who are facing some crisis. With time this thing rooted deep inside me. I started feeling satisfied with the knowledge that maybe people needed me sometimes even if it was only in their moments of sorrow. Call it a lame effort to be wanted by others or an attempt to hold some place important in others’ lives. Or maybe I think too much. Someone told me that I always look for tragedies, but this is just what I have become. I don’t mind tragedies a single bit because I feel that people reveal their innermost feelings at that moment. I wish I could take those moments of closeness, the belonging to merrier times also but almost always I find myself getting sidelined for someone else who simply makes their way into lives of others when the grass is green and when they don’t have to live through autumn. Then again I start looking out for the next estranged soul. I fully agree that my life may seem tempting to others. Some people have in fact asked me that why do I even get sad, but its ingrained in me. I try to be alone at times hoping someone will ask about me.

This feeling naturally comes, when I see people enjoying with others, I find myself looking at people’s happy faces thinking it would have been so fucking amazing if I would have been the one sharing that laughter, if your smile would have started from your lips and would have stopped at my cheekbones. I always try to find a crevice in people’s conversations to an untold secret which would act like a thread that would keep us entwined forever with each other. I love to gradually fade into the background watching how people react to my absence.

You have been a great support to me amidst all the negativity. As I have said a million times, a lighthouse in the cold wild raging sea, a drop of water in the scorching heat of the desert, that last breath for which a man craves on his deathbed, those last few  of oxygen in a man’s tank on a faraway planet.

P.S. – You are the one who I believe can take me out of this perpetual turmoil. Only you have the charm.

A Reply

I think I am cast in a very different stone. I am the kind who wants to be with people in their good times and their bad. If they choose to be with me only in either one of them, then I carve out a different path for myself, far away from theirs. For me, it’s always all or nothing. The only thing I hope for is that I make you a part of all my seasons. That, I think, could be the best gift I could ever give you.

P.S. Don’t talk about lighthouses, they drive me crazy! 🙂 ❤

Que Sera, Sera

 Whatever will be, will be.

Is this not what all of us should believe in and trust our faith in? Thanks to Alfred Hitchcock for making the song popular so that I can put my feelings in words easily – whatever will be, will be.

I was inspired by the song (and by Dumbledore) to write something really random:

When I was young, I read a book
I asked my heart, do these worlds really exist?
My heart replied, maybe it is only in your head,
But that doesn’t mean, that it doesn’t exist.

Here’s the song which also won the oscars. Some lyrics from the song:

When I was young, I fell in love
I asked my sweetheart what lies ahead
Will we have rainbows, day after day
Here’s what my sweetheart said.

Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future’s not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera
What will be, will be.

Sober Notes 6: The Moon

“What are you thinking about?” he asks me.
I tell him “I am thinking about the moons and the stars.”
“Why them?” he asks.
“I was just wondering how the moon maintains its calm among all these stars?”
He replied in the voice that asserts authority, the voice that says I will give you knowledge “The stars, however bright are not visible in the morning, like the moon is.”

“How does it not feel inadequate?”
“Why would it feel inadequate when it gives birth to waves and to life, and to poetry that you write.”

“How is it not jealous of the sun which shines so bright?”
“The sun is eclipsed by the moon, proving that size is just a number.”

“How does it maintain individuality among so many others?”
“When you talk about individuality, can any other satellite boast of all those patterns on its face, where a man can see the silhouette of her love, who looks at the same moon even though they are several miles apart.”

-S.

Pain

Will this pain ever end, this unbearable pain?
I close my eyes, want to disappear right then.
End this pain or end this inspiration.
I have had enough of this mortal being.
Take me to a place where pain doesn’t exist.
Let go, let it be and let me hold your hand,
As together we make our way to a land,
Where no one has ever been to before.
A place where I would sleep till eternity.
Even after time completes infinite circles,
Because this life has completed its own.
All i want now is for this pain to end.
This crevasse wont heal on its own,
Not in a world like this.
Lets go, lets go, to our new world,
A brand new world for a brand new us.
All cracks healed, all pains left behind.
I will put an end to this meaningless existence.
Finally the heart of life lets go of the life of the heart.
I float through those realms to meet you halfway,
And we depart to our world hand in hand,
To put an end to this desolate search for nothing.

-S.

Button Poetry

I cannot stress this enough but this is one of the best poems I have ever heard and the way he delivers is just breathtaking.

They introduce themselves like this: We seek to showcase the power and diversity of voices in our community. By encouraging and broadcasting the best and brightest performance poets of today, we hope to broaden poetry’s audience, to expand its reach and develop a greater level of cultural appreciation for the art form.

I am so inspired by them, I think I watched about 20 of these videos and trust me it was time well spent. I guarantee you can’t leave without spending at least half an hour. Please do yourself a favour and go watch. 🙂

OCD:

Shrinking Women:

Fantastic Breasts and where to find them:

How I wish someday I could write like them. ❤

OCD:

The first time I saw her…
Everything in my head went quiet.
All the tics, all the constantly refreshing images just disappeared.
When you have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, you don’t really get quiet moments.
Even in bed, I’m thinking:
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
Did I lock the doors? Yes.
Did I wash my hands? Yes.
But when I saw her, the only thing I could think about was the hairpin curve of her lips..
Or the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek—
the eyelash on her cheek.
I knew I had to talk to her.
I asked her out six times in thirty seconds.
She said yes after the third one, but none of them felt right, so I had to keep going.
On our first date, I spent more time organizing my meal by color than I did eating it, or fucking talking to her…
But she loved it.
She loved that I had to kiss her goodbye sixteen times or twenty-four times if it was Wednesday.
She loved that it took me forever to walk home because there are lots of cracks on our sidewalk.
When we moved in together, she said she felt safe, like no one would ever rob us because I definitely locked the door eighteen times.
I’d always watch her mouth when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked—
when she talked
when she talked;
when she said she loved me, her mouth would curl up at the edges.
At night, she’d lay in bed and watch me turn all the lights off.. And on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off, and on, and off.
She’d close her eyes and imagine that the days and nights were passing in front of her.
Some mornings I’d start kissing her goodbye but she’d just leave cause I was
just making her late for work…
When I stopped in front of a crack in the sidewalk, she just kept walking…
When she said she loved me her mouth was a straight line.
She told me that I was taking up too much of her time.
Last week she started sleeping at her mother’s place.
She told me that she shouldn’t have let me get so attached to her;that this whole thing was a mistake, but…
How can it be a mistake that I don’t have to wash my hands after I touched her?
Love is not a mistake, and it’s killing me that she can run away from this and I just can’t.
I can’t – I can’t go out and find someone new because I always think of her.
Usually, when I obsess over things, I see germs sneaking into my skin.
I see myself crushed by an endless succession of cars…
And she was the first beautiful thing I ever got stuck on.
I want to wake up every morning thinking about the way she holds her steering wheel..
How she turns shower knobs like she’s opening a safe.
How she blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out candles—
blows out…
Now, I just think about who else is kissing her.
I can’t breathe because he only kisses her once — he doesn’t care if it’s perfect!
I want her back so bad…
I leave the door unlocked.
I leave the lights on.

Thoughts on Rumi

Tonight feels like the night to read Rumi. I was first introduced to him only recently by a friend and there is no way someone could not love his writing (don’t mind the double negatives). Ever since I read his poetry/verses I keep going back to Kitaabkhana, to the section where his books are and get lost in them. Here are some of his gems. ❤

In your light I learn how to love.
In your beauty, how to make poems.
You dance inside my chest
Where no one sees you,
But sometimes I do,
And that sight becomes art.

Wow, the search for a the muse comes alive through his lines. Even for me, there is this constant search for inspiration which is only satiated by something like a memory or something that love teaches me on this journey called life. 🙂

This moment that love comes to rest in me,
Many beings in one being.
In one wheat grain a thousand sheaf stacks.
Inside the needle’s eye, a turning night of stars.

Just the beauty of how a million things could be housed into a single entity with the power of love.

The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
How blind that was.
Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere.
They’re in each other all along.

Clichéd? But beautiful.

I know a lot must have been lost in translation but then that gives me another thing to do in life. Someday maybe I will learn to read it in its original form. And then I will fall even more in love with him, if that’s possible. 🙂

-S.

Sober Notes 5: Dreams

I dreamt of five moons in the sky
As if one wasn’t enough
A streak of stars joined them
Like a figure in a puzzle
Where you join the dots
Like diagrams on a sky-map
Where you join the stars
The longer I looked
The brighter they glimmered
The smoke from my cigarette
Mixed with the mist in the air
It rose to the heavens
It brushed past the stars
But before it could kiss the moon
Dawn broke and the mist disappeared
And the dream ended a little too soon

-S.