Tonight,about light

About lies you told and heard
About right decisions and wrong times,

About outright NOs and painful YESs

About stolen pens and looted memories

About chits in the class and silence in the walks,

About newspapers and red inks.

Tonight, it’s about wars. And cries.

Source :

About preaching mom not to talk like that,

About feeling guilty for talking like that,

About stained pants and washed agony,

About withered walls and bright pictures.

About compass boxes and kitchen sets

And monsters in clouds, and a white dress.

Tonight, it’s about yesterday. And beyond.

Source : Pinterest

About teary blurs and clear paths,

About stubborn keyboards and blocked contacts,

About rains and parched hearts

About drafts in the mail and updated Instagram.

And earrings, and short hair and long kurtis

About everything out of league.

Tonight, it’s about me. And stars.

Source of featured image : Pinterest


Madam Attitude

And why are you always so cynical and headstrong and snobbish about almost everything?”

Because I am a bigtime idealist. I am auto-tuned to ideas of perfection. By that I don’t mean I am prim and proper and excel at everything. What I do, however, is to ensure 100% efforts. Whether in a project or a friendship or any relation whether it is with your mother or father or even the guy sitting next to you. I am a person of words who’d take them as they are and hence loud tones and rude replies irk me to levels much much more than they do to other people. I have this seemingly perfect idea of conversations where we respect others’ words and we love like how love should be. Now people call me judgemental but here’s the thing. Every small gesture is part of the bigger picture for me. So at every sentence and every act, I am picturizing the rationale behind that.  And the deductions are mostly saddening”

Not the most positive or comprehensible thing to hear, but don’t you think this attitude would make you a rather unhappy person?

Oh of course. By all means, I am unhappy. And even there I try to find the larger picture. Like whether it is the color of my walls or arrangement of the furniture or the series I am watching or the people I’m avoiding or things I’m thinking that are making me unhappy. But then, I realize that I fight, argue at petty things and get irked by people only because I know the possibilities of better situations. So I kind of rebel for love. I create havoc, for peace. That’s weird. Even I don’t get it.”

Well,do you even have friends?”

Friends of all kinds. But if your context of asking this was based on the insane replies above, then I would say, I have ONE friend. Who is my world. Not because I share all this with him,but because I don’t feel any of this with him. To him, I am the little sister whom he keeps scolding for not taking enough care of herself only by looking at my skin. To me, he is the brother with whom, I know I have nothing to worry about. We rarely meet. But when we do, he ensures it’s a Thursday so he can force me into eating Chicken. And in that moment, I am the most pampered kid ever. I think of getting him gifts because he deserves everything in the world. But then, I have not found anything precious enough. For him,watching me eat to my heart’s content is enough. I am already feeling happy.”

“You know not many people can handle you,right?”

“I know. I don’t have many people. I manage being a wreck.”

Mujhe rukne ko na kaho

Mujhe yaad hai ki 

baarish ko mai apna kehti thi

aur tumhe ye naadaani lagti thi,

Par meri khaatir tum bhi boondo me

ek majboor sukoon dhundh lete the.

Aaj shaam bhi wahi hai, barasti hui, kaali si, majboor si.

Par ab bheegne ka mann nahi hai,

Aur is sabab ki wajah kehne ko na kaho

Mujhe rukne ko na kaho.

Shaam wala rang hai, 
Aasmaa malang hai,

wahi kitaab sang hai

jo barso se badrang hai.

Kitne panno me apni hi hasi hai

Saawan ki baate wahi par basi hai.

Abb ki khaamoshi todne ko na kaho

Mujhe rukne ko na kaho.

PC : Naushad Ahmed Khan

Chai ki pyaali hai

cheeni aaj sawaali hai

ki mujhse kyu roothi ho

jo bilkul nahi daali hai.

Abb mithaas ki bass yaade pasand hain.

Par cheeni ki ye baate pasand hain.

In baato me arth daalne ko na kaho,

Mujhe rukne ko na kaho.

Last week a friend asked me if I had written something new and I was a little perplexed because I had kind of disowned writing poems for reasons I fail to figure out. She made me promise that I would write one super soon and here it is. Only after I finished writing this , did I realize that this makes me feel good. Of course, on a rainy day ( a rainy week in fact), I am most earnest about promises. 

Happy rains,


How we messed up love!

There are three kinds of us. Ones,who post heavily romantic stuff, of love and its magic. Seconds,who post stuff about love being a jerk,moh-maaya. Thirds,who are sick of both. Or let me put it this way. Most of us, were Type 1, who became Type 2 and are progressively becoming Type 3. I am very confidently saying this due to sufficiently large sample size. 

From here

To here

We,the millenials, have lived through DDLJ, Salaam Namaste and now OK Jaanu. Our ideas of love have evolved faster than Darwin could ever imagine. Not just ideas,our belief in love has evolved. Vanished. 

To here

Careers. There are Type 1 who are engineers, doctors, lawyers and all the “respectable” professions one could be in. Type 2 who have dared to do unconventional stuff. And Type 3, who wanted to be Type 2, were scared so studied things to be Type 1 but couldn’t fit anywhere. We have grown in the age of extremely high demand of IT people to the rise of careers by making YouTube videos. We have seen the soaring numbers of Cyber Cafe and now revolutions happening by tapping fingers from the couch. 

We are messed up because we,in mere 20-25 years of our lifespan have seen rise and demise of phenomena. We grew in era of deep deep romance where eyes did the talking. We heard with awe Preity Zinta smirk at Hrithik Roshan and asking him to “Ghoomaao-firaao and sugar coat his proposal”.

Iss baat ko zara aur saja ke kehte

Entered a Deepika Padukone who very meticuously directed The Nawab to “Seedhe point pe aao na”

Senti ho mai jaan gayi ab action dikhaao na

And when we still faced defeat in the romantic sphere, these people came with their golden words of wisdom of never falling in love.

What we have ended up becoming? These people. Who fall in love. Who do not know how to deal with love. So we run away. We curse. And then repeat. In this movie ( Shuddh Desi Romance) the eternal lover boy of Bollywood how emphatically exclaimed  “Yaar tum log bhagte bahut ho”

This movie was epitome of our mess.

Now pardon me for being a big time Bollywood buff, but I have seen every reflection of these 22 years in these movies. Or the other way round. There are countless reasons or rather factors to account for the mess but I would rather talk about two.

  • Family structures- The way our families have progressed! For once I would not call most families orthodox. The way the families have accepted the fact that the youngsters have a love life, have breakups, have casual flings- this very open conversational stir has messed up things in the sense that we are no more scared of making mistakes. With transparency, we are most khula saands! 
  • Jaane tu ya jaane na. This Mom!

  • As cliche as it may sound but Internet– 10 msgs ( not messages) per day including the “Hey” text! Saving money for the SMS pack! And now unlimited texts/voice/video calls. Sure the communication has got revolutionized. But so has the respect and anticipation. There is no more excitement in new notifications. Approaching, befriending, intimidating, loving and then avoiding and evading people- it is all happening all the time on the keypads. We have got so much control over the apps that we are losing control. 
  • The player of our times!

Sadly enough, I do not intend to provide any remedies( Not that I have any). I guess we like mess. We like being called messy. We will evolve through this. In what direction, I know not. I just hope,wherever we are, we can still appreciate this.

The lyrics of this song send chills down the spine


"Kismat se tum humko mile ho
 Kaise chhorenge, yeh hath ham na chhorenge
 Tukde dil ke ham tum milke
 Phir se jodenge, yeh shisha phir se jodenge
 Phir se banatee takdiro ko, armaano ko janziron ko
Jaanam abb naa todenge"

(You may listen to this song from movie Pukar, here
Kismat Se Tum Hum Ko Mile (Pukar):

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Happy summer