Archive for the 'Uncategorized' Category

21
Jul
17

हमेशा की तरह

मेरे
ज़हन में बसने वाली
वह
कल
बहुत दिनों बाद
झुंझलाई सी
आई, और
धम्म से
तुनक कर
बैठ गयी;
और मैं
हमेशा की तरह
उसको
निहारता रहा|

Continue reading ‘हमेशा की तरह’

21
Jun
17

इसलिए

दिमाग फितूरी था
इसलिए
बहुत सोचा इक
दिन
फिर से
अपने बारे में;
और जाने किस
गुबार में
अष्टाव्रक जिंदगी
के उस कोने
की सफाई करने
चला।
24
Apr
17

#16

As long it serves your purpose

it’s so easy say

“I’m like this!”

Cared for and nourished

with love

you know when and where to strike,

plunder and ravage;

Continue reading ‘#16’

07
Mar
17

#18

In the shadows of mountains

the echoes of memories

hit the hard surfaces

and

come back to me

to get

tangled

in the ragged edges

of my

thoughts.

Continue reading ‘#18’

22
Feb
17

The Dead and the Living

“I think I had a mother once…” – Peter Pan

I feel cheated.

Natural death has disregarded me.

Once again I have lost out.

With innumerable masks resounding with hushed, unspoken and unshed tears of shrieks, I am left in this shambles not knowing what to do? Where to go? Whom to talk to? What to talk about?  Whom to relate with?

*

The living are tiring.

*

Continue reading ‘The Dead and the Living’

24
Oct
16

#17

The screaming from the

window

perforated the thick grey

walls and

enveloped itself

around quiet corners

of my being.

Vaguely familiar faces

with loud, open mouths,

stretched

and

undulated

towards me;

waiting to be

recognized,

desperate to get under

my skin as I

try to remain

sane in

the midst of all

insanity.

24
Jul
16

Living with the Tiger

When I am dead, my dearest,

Sing no sad songs for me;

Plant thou no roses at my head,

Nor shady cypress tree:

Be the green grass above me

With showers and dewdrops wet;

And if thou wilt, remember,

And if thou wilt, forget.

I shall not see the shadows,

I shall not feel the rain;

I shall not hear the nightingale

Sing on, as if in pain:

And dreaming through the twilight

That doth not rise nor set,

Haply I may remember,

And haply may forget.

– Christina Rossetti

Sixteen years ago, deep within the forests of Binsar, on a bitterly cold night, I had finally finished making notes in my diary and was ready to call it a day.

Slide1

The other members of the team were already asleep. I got-up and quietly went around the old dak bungalow checking doors and windows.

Slide2

Came back and stoked the fire. Seeking warmth from the crackling fireplace and snuggled inside the sleeping bag, a face with large eyes peeped out at me.

Continue reading ‘Living with the Tiger’