Kahi se ho kar kahi to gujarti hai na

Ye hawa!

Kitna jazba hai isme ki jise koi na chu Saka

Use bhi hila jati hai

Ye hawa!

Isme bada Mulayam ehesas hai

Is taqat ki pehchan bhi kya khoob deti hai wo

Jise jitna ehesah ho utna lapet leti hai ho

Jazbat bhi kya haseen kuredti hai

Ye hawa!

Hawa hai, hawa banke fir hawa ho jati hai!

Ye hawa!


Mujhe gussa hi kyu ata hai,

Tum par, is par, khud par, sab par

Bas man karta hai chikti hi jau, aur chup ho jau

Fir yaad ata hai ye to hua hi karta tha

Kisi chij se naraj hu shayad

Isiliye itna natak hai andar jo ek hi tarika janta hai bahar ane ka

Man ko kitna samjhaya ki jara muh band rakhe, ankhey nam rakhey aur sehte jaye

Par Mujhe pyaar jatana hi nahi ata

Ek hi wo mera man hai jise bas gussa karna ata hai

Chahe chai thandi ho jaye ya usme shakkar jyada pad jaye

Chahe kisi ne niyam toda ya apna thaila road pe choda

Har baat pe Mujhe gussa ata hai

Kab tak Mein dusro ka hisab khud se mangu

Kisi aur ke dard ki ginti khud karu

Par Mujhe to pyaar jatana ata hi nahi

Shayad Mujhe dar lagta hai ki ye pyar Mujhe fir usi raah par le jayega Jahan se Mein bhag ayi hu

Koi man khol kar dekhe, tukde milenge aur kuch unsuljhe batein

Par unka gusse se kya Lena…

Shayad Mujhe pyaar jatana hi nahi ata…

Shayad Mujhe gussa hatana nahi ata…

Golden age

Have you ever felt the pressure of behaving as your age’.

I have certainly experienced this very expectation, as if there is no limit to where I could think or beyond. Like those lining in the cloud with silver springs of anatomy and beautiful background to understand what limits it already.

It’s so natural and obvious but not mandatory to effectively understand ourselves to hinder someone else. I feel be must oblige ourselves to some extent so that when natural feeling to be our age arises we can be proud about have gained certain age. Age is not just a number, it’s more than experience and expensive memories. Great thing about memory though! It doesn’t comes to us easily, only some small emotional events triggers them and book! You are loaded with many memories.

Rain wet skin and eye lashes, nostrils smelling the wet ground! Aaj! What a flavourful childhood memory! Muddy and mushy!

Rose and it’s smell taking us away with all our memories making us certainly available for romantic drives, crazy ultimatum.

There are few more things about memories those are not naturally available unless touched and refreshed.

“Goal” I hear the hauling and whistles, memories triggering my own beautiful childhood where I went to rainy cloudy courts hitting football so hard to goal it again and again.

I remember my days of playing cricket at summer afternoon and reaching for exam hall with admit card all laminated and scented with hard work.

A lot is there to savour and remember, I remember and I remember…..


I asked if promises would always be there, he confirmed from his top tower registration office at bangalore. Since he has switched to this new passion I feel that my place in his dictionary is static to some unromantic corner.

Our calls have reduced, from mangrove to bangalore I have been handling his mustachios and cup of coffee. Oh little did I knew how to handle such a madness at height.

His mother complaints a lot too, and now a days we both talk on very familiar and common topic.

At some nights when I am completely asleep he would text me and call as if he knows when to do that. I have been missing him since the day I ate that dosa at udupi. Oh dear what an ass of me, the smell of fresh mint leaves and curry leaves, those bright golden color of crisp dosa and rain with filter coffee.

There was a lot to memorise and savour. And I came back from bangalore leaving back him with his passionately dipped startup.

I don’t understand this whole concept of having a startup, as if there would be no recognition if you don’t have a startup after a foreign degree.

Well I am also doing the same with mine, my foreign degree is at my wall, I stare at it everyday, gaze it and think what to do with the frame, that’s all I think of.

Or may be sometimes I think of my best days spent there and feel the happiness of coming back to the roots, greeting and doing for people, helping raise each other.

And then there is my incomplete and underlying love story.


Honey, the love would come I promise.

I can not tell you how much loving my new job is, it’s been quite a time that I wrote it to you. I am enjoying being the boss anyway. You were right I needed to change what I couldn’t anyway think of. I chose this life or anyway the vice versa but things are quite to the infinity.

Today something wonder happened, a guy in his mid 20s came to me with something no one could have solved, given that I unconsciously solved his problem and his girlfriend jumped to my cabin with sweets and balloons. I thought that I might miss you a bit. That kind and lovable gesture reminded me of how beautiful my life is with you.

How is your higher education going on, is it torturing enough to forget me? Or is it that the mail person is not doing his duty well. It was last Sunday that I was waiting for your mails given that it’s quite a holiday but normally your letters arrive on Sundays.

Post to that I forgot to tell you that our tree has grown and our tom is behaving indeed like a master brat now a days, he would not eat chicken, I think he misses you too.

Fine, enough of me, the pond is clear like always and the boats arrive at them many a times. I haven’t seen any dolphins lately but I think bhimpy the whale would come some day, rides are normal and I broke our favourite boat. I couldn’t maintain its requirement and hence its behaving abnormal to the core. Please come soon we must do something about that.

Our neighbours are all same, quite and irritating but sometimes we talk, they are nice person given that their kids are bit noisy.

I still listen to your track and jam, sometimes I forget to take my lunch, office is bit busy. Our old friends visit me, asks me about you and we all laugh and play, we do leave you a video sometimes but I think you are too busy to check , you read my blogs, so I had to write it here

Miss you baby!

Abdhero me na sahi tu tej roshni me dikhta hoga

Tu Tera chehra Sach ka shayad khuda ko dikhta hoga

Mubarak ho tujhe ki tune behtar kar dikhaya

Khud ho kar kuch aur kisi aur ka mukhota chada liya

Ho nahi paya mujhse pyaar tujhe

Kahi mere man ka khuda tujhe parakh chuka tha

Tu tha kuch aur aur kuch aur hi ban chala tha

Har waqt aine me meine khud ko dekha aur socha

Kis wajah se tu mere paas aya hoga

Tu kaun hai aur kyu aya hoga

Koi to wajah hogi na ki tu Mujhe wo dard de gaya

Kuch unsuljhe sawal Mujhe piche chod Gaye

Duniya age Bhagti hai aur Mujhe piche dhakelti hai

Koi to wajah hogi na ki aisa hota hoga

Chahe aaj na mile Mujhe tu kahi

Par khuda ko dikhta hoga

Tu kya kar raha tha aur tu kya kar raha hai

Sab tujhe khud bhi Samajhta hoga

Ek din ayega tu dekhna ek din jarur ayega

Khuda bhi tujhe chod dega aur Tera imaan bolega

Tu yad karega wo din har wo baat

Aur khud ko maaf karega

Mein to Khasi reh gayi

Dekhte reh gayi

Bas sochte reh gayi

Ki meri galti kaha huyi!

Sabka pura maan rakha

Apne khandan ka naam rakha

Jaisa jisne chaha waise reh gayi

Fir bhi jane kami kaha huyi

Mein to na hu aise jaisa sabne banaya

Na mein hu waise jaise tumne mujhe paya

Mein to koi khoya chiraag hu

Jal ke bhujna aur bhuj kar jalna

Mere man ka raag hai

Ye koi bhuli baat nai

Bas mere andar ka aag hai

Kabhi sochu Mein bhi ki kaha chalti firu

Kabhi dekhu apni or aur sehlati chalu

Hu kaun Mein? Aur hu hi kyu Mein?

Chalo baat bahut huyi jara kaam kar lete hai

Ye jo dhabba duniya ka sar pe hai

Use ankho se mitate hai

Jara sochu Mein bhi ki Mein kuch alag hu

Sabse kahas na sahi par pichli dhul se alag hu

Duniya chahe na dekhe par koi to hoga

Jise meri ankho me wo dikhta hoga

To be vanished

To escape would be coward

To vanish would be magical

To stay away from the eyes

To breath under fresh trees

To make it a choice

To do a thing,

It would take a lot

It would make a lot

There would be a way

To re write and sing

Find me

A part of you would always be missing

Thrown underneath the darkest water

You would search for me because

I would be your only chance

You know darkness is a form of light

To lifetime lift, you would have to clean

What it takes to your consciousness

Whatever you write you read it first

So you must clean before you write own your destiny

Narrate the happy story, sing the glory

We are that one significant part of solar

We come from that energy of planets

We complete each other, I find you

You find me and then we meet

I am no other you! I am one of you!