Like a water balloon filled to the brim
Ready to burst and splash
Is the pregnant silence between us.
More words hidden than spoken aloud
The eyes speak more than the lips
There are clouds of emotions between us
I know what you say and not
You know all that I feel and say
Yet, there is so much unsaid between us
You are but a touch away from me
Just a finger space away
Still why do I feel a mile between us ?
The morning madness comes to a still
The cup of tea no longer left half
The newspaper can now feel my fingers
No one needs to panic on my behalf.
Years and years of the same routine,
The unbelievably early alarms
The rushed tread of the sleepy feet
The heavy bags on both my arms
The anxiety of always being on time
Forever 'hurry up' on my mind
The perpetuity of the irritation gene
Mental list of things left behind.....
The morning madness comes to a still.
I am sitting with my cup of tea,
I breathe out a blessing and then some more
For giving me a chance to be just me....
That new face cream in the market
Which claims to keep age at Bay
To smoothen out the lines from my face
And to rub the wrinkles away,
Does it not know that I love these lines ?
These crinkles around my eyes.
The little sag of the cheek over my chin,
Are not the things I despise.
Each wrinkle is a age line for me.
Each one, has a story to share.
The laughter lines around my eyes
Shows my victory over despair.
Every bit of sagging skin and tissue
Is a life which happy moments lifted
Every scar and mark of mine
Is the love that life has gifted.
No cream no lotion can ever claim
To erase away any such happy line
I would like to drift away in life
With the sight of your wrinkled hands on mine.
And suddenly, like snowfall,Nothingness descends.
Wooly clouds are masking the mind
The basket of dreams is rattling around
Sanity and good sense are tough to find.
The bliss of the naught, the null, the nil
The fuzz of the empty head
The charm of the cozy warm blanket
On my favourite side of the bed
The fun of wanting to do just nothing at all !
And a willing heart to follow that !!!
The thrill of shutting the door on chores.
The choice of silence over chitchat.
What an amazing blessing it is !
To be able to travel to nothing land
The foolish happiness of doing nothing,
Only a dreamy soul can understand.
Folded pages of yellow paper with your handwriting all
over it ,
Stay within my Hawkins recipe book.
On the page which teaches me how to make chana pindi in my pressure
cooker,
I have secured away 6 pages of your friendship.
I know exactly every loop , every curve every emotion that your words
take.
I have kept you preserved forever in those 6 pages.
In the age of instant chats and messages
I have held on to the romance of your letter.
Long back I have learnt how to make chana pindi ,
yet every time, without fail,
I open the recipe book.
Just to touch the words you wrote.
Romance smells like garam masala to me.......
On the Wagah border today
I met a mango tree
Of deep green leaves
And a gentle sway
It stood proud
Rooted in the Indian soil
It's stem bending
The Pakistani way
Laden with fruits
Bent double with weight
It looked as if
It had a story to say
Maybe it was a proud guy
With honour and valour
With unending bravery
Every night and day
Or maybe just maybe
It had been a confused
Tottering seed which had
Simply lost it's way.....
Badi muddat ke baad mujhe shaam ko waqt mila.
Roz ki daud bhaag mein kho sa gaya tha kahin
Mila toh bade adab see maine chai ko poocha
Dar tha, aaj bhi phirse bhaag na jaaye kahin
Jo chai pe baithe dono , toh maine ruthte hue kaha,
Roz milte kyun nahi ho mujhe? Zara batao to sahi ?
Khair, yun toh roz hi mila karta hai waqt mujhse,
Par kabhi use phursat nahi kabhi mujhe phursat nahi
We draw our borders, we stake our claim, yet love still rises, a quiet flame. It slips through silence, it breaks the night, a hidden ...
