The candle within..

Pain is such a beautiful feeling..
Maybe cause its so damn close to the heart..
When the heart is gripped in pain's unrelenting embrace
There is nothing but that dark mindless oblivion
And the numbing feeling of sinking into an abyss..
While the heart slowly bleeds..

Pain is such a beautiful feeling
It makes you realize the very depth of your soul
The intensity of your passion
The ability to really feel..
How is takes over the senses
Makes us do things we would have never done before

Pain is such a beautiful feeling
Like a reaction to the darkness within, the flame keeps burning
Nourished by the emotion, flickering yet bright..
And as time applies its’ soothing balm..
Pain ebbs.. slowly, gradually, leaving its’ mark

And then there is nothing but the beautiful sound of silence..

Weddings and more!

Just got back from Jyoti Di's wedding in Albany..

I don't know why but this one was a very emotional ceremony for me.. maybe cause she's like a big sister..

I walked into her room before the ceremony to see Mamiji (her mom) in tears.. tears of happiness for her daughter and tears of sorrow.. for the daughter who was now, not her's alone.. She was probably remembering the first time she must have held her infant daughter in her arms.. she named her Jyoti because she said this one is going to be the light of my eyes..

I went to tie the threads of the kalire on Jyoti Di's bangles when I saw her properly for the 1st time myself.. a beautiful bride in red.. vibrant, happy.. and I knew why her mom was in tears.. As my own eyes misted over I told her how beautiful she looked and in that moment silently wished for all the happiness in the world for her.. and walked off needing a moment alone..

She looked so happy, anticipating the new life awaiting her.. with the person who had come to mean so much to her.. had fulfilled the many roles of friend, fiance and now husband.. I realised then how beautiful it must be to marry a person you truly love.. to share moments.. happy or sad.. to build a life and a world together..

That world in which they stepped into together amidst our ancient shlokas and thousands of blessings..

At the end of the ceremony the priest asked everyone to give their blessings to Sandeep and Jyoti Varma.. Jyoti Varma??? It hit me then.. wow.. her identity had changed in that one moment.. her parents had done the Kanya Daan.. The biggest sacrifice you can make, but one made so lovingly..

Under a shower of flowers and blessings, the new couple walked down the aisle into their new life.. into their new world..

Udaas Na Ho

An excerpt from Sahir Ludhianvi’s “Udaas Na Ho” Extremely inspiring..


Mere nadeem mere hamsafar udaas na ho
Kathin sahi teri manzil magar udaas na ho

Har ek talaash ke raaste mein mushkilein hain magar
Har ek talaash muradon ke rang laati hai
Hazaron chaand sitaron ka khoon hota hai
Tab ek subah fizaon pe muskurati hai

Mere nadeem mere hamsafar udaas na ho
Kathin sahi teri manzil magar udaas na ho

Jo apne khoon ko paani bana nahi sakte
Woh zindagi mein naya rang la nahi sakte
Jo raaste ke andheron se haar jaate hain
Woh manzilon ke ujalon ko paa nahi sakte

Mere nadeem mere hamsafar udaas na ho
Kathin sahi teri manzil magar udaas na

Remebering school years..

Those days when we went to school with red clips in our hair
Doing homework at night and the next unit test – our only care

Standing in morning assembly and joining our hands in prayer
Bunking class and school, we would never dare

P.T, Library, W. Ex and Computer Science were all considered a free class
Always looking forward to first Friday and the morning mass

Tiffins got over before lunch break
Smearing on each others faces, the birthday cake

Sitting on the school steps discussing life and the next dream
In good times and bad, we were always a team

Rodrciks, Vadhwa, Cecilea, Ranganathan and Art Sir
Sitting through classes sometimes, such a torture

Going to the infirmary to sleep on the pretexts of stomach pains
Those tree lined and memorable school lanes

Moving back in the bus based on years and seniority
Sitting cross legged on the floor was cooler, getting a seat was never a priority

The canteen and always falling short of two rupees
These moments are etched in my memories

Those carefree school years now seem like past trends
It gave me cherishable moments and some of my very best friends

Survival

Only one phrase comes to mind when I think of this word – survival .. that life , zindagi, is like a perennial flowing river.. it doesn’t stop for anyone… it keeps moving even when disturbed by boulders.. or by those people who try to ride the waves of our lives in their individual boats, rowing through it and trying to carve a place for themselves somewhere along the path..

Ya sometimes the water crashes against the boulders and the people and a few drops get displaced but at the end of the day the water flows in the direction its meant to.. it survives the disturbances.. accepts them and moves on.. and at the end of the day its not scared of taking the last plunge.. the ultimate free fall.. its final destination.. when it loses its individual identity and becomes one with a greater flowing water body, a higher being..

It seems to me that survival is the current that keeps the water flowing, the force, convincing us to plough ahead.. sometimes I wonder if it is a basic human need.. because after all without the passion to survive and survive well life tends to come to a stand still.. just like a stagnant river..

It is not only a human need but I guess the strongest force then of life.. Does it not compel us to climb the highest emotional mountain, forget a deeply loved one, get over emotions, forget incidents, dreams, nightmares and broken aspirations..

Three cheers then to this need, this passion, this force.. that seeps through us, sustains us and keeps us going….

Who is the one with the handicap..?

I just read a blog on someone’s website that brought back a memory from a day almost 7 years ago..

I have always felt that out of all physical handicaps, being blind is the most traumatizing… At a young age I had decided that when I die I will donate my eyes to someone..

A couple of years back, I was still in school then.. I think 11th grade.. A blind man came to our school to sell candles.. How ironical was that in itself that he would probably never know what the light of a candle would look like.. that even though his life was immersed in complete darkness, he was trying to illuminate other people’s lives..

No one would hold his hand to direct him to the principle’s office because he was poor and I guess no one wanted to touch him.. I too was probably one of those people who watched him helplessly trying to find his way around.. In doing so, when he almost bumped into a wall, I lost it then held his hand and directed him to wherever he needed to go.. I went around telling everyone that If they had any money to please buy candles from him and then once I had told as many people as I could I walked of.. and then I cried..

I sobbed on my friend’s shoulder at his plight and misery.. Even then I wondered why this incident had affected me so.. why was I crying for a person I didnt know and would probably never see again..

After reading Kaumudi’s blog today about her experience at a blind school, it brought back that day for me, from 7 years ago and I realized that I wasn’t crying for him.. I was crying for myself.. for my sheer helplessness.. for how inhuman people can get that they wouldn’t hold a blind man’s hand and guide him in the direction that he needs to go in..

Who is better of then I wonder.. them who cant see the word outside.. or us who cant even see the light within..

Y, are you not here?

How many silent conversations have I had with you in my head..
Sometimes, when I need advice I put on “my your” hat and give myself the answers..
You put my emotions into words better than I can myself
I have learnt how to appreciate the positive because you have taught me how to accept the negative
Sometimes when I feel I can’t live with myself, you assure me that I can
So many times you have been the cement that helps me build the wall

(Y)ou are my soul mate.. my best friend..

Aaj yeh dua maangi hai..

Aaj yeh dua maangi hai..

Mujhe apna vishwaas do
Apne hone ka ehsaas do

Rakho mujhe apne khayalon mein
Un jawabon ke sawalon mein

Ho mera muqaddar tumhari panha
Jaaye na ek bhi lamha akela, tanha

Meri har khushi ho teri nawaazish
Teri dua’on ko sametna meri aazmaish

Tumhari aagosh mein paun main akhri aasraa
Uske baad ho na koi khwahish, na koi tamanna

Tumhe mehsoon karun apne ruh ke har zarreh mein
Samaa jao tum mujhme, mere wujood ke har kone mein

Duniya ko dekhoon mein nazron se tumhari
Ho mere liye jannat aara’ish tumhari

Reh jaaye na koi faasle darminyaan hamare
Mil jaate hain jaise sagar ki lehron se kinaare

Tumhe paana ban jaaye mere tars ke liye raahat
Tumharara yaqin bane paak, ho jaise koi aayat

Bane itni gehri tumhare tassavuur ki shiddat
Teri bandagi mein kho jaana ban jaaye meri aadat

Duur us chaand..

Duur us chaand ko dhalte maine dekha
To ek yaad sataane aa gayi

Andhere ki vaadi mein raushni ki parchayi
Mujhe mere sapnon se jagaa gayi

Sapne ke taraf haath badhati hun
To woh aankhon se aur bhi ojhal ho jaata hai

Is jaagti hui duniya ki uljhane
Aur bhi badha jaata hai

In uljhano mein,
Paheli si lagne lagi hai zindagi
Paheliyon se darr lagta hai

Is darr ke andhere mein apne wujood ko dhoondna
Aur bhi mushkil lagta hai

Wujood ke ehsaas ke bina kho si gayi hun main
Shayad yeh apne aap se ek ladai hai

Is ladai mein kabhi zindagi haari kabhi main
par har haar na jaane kitne sawaal bahaa gayi hai

In sawalon ki panha mein kahin ek dard bhara lamha hai
Us dard bhare lamhe mein ek ajeeb si tanhai

Tanhai ke us aalam mein chand ko jo dhalte maine dekha
To mujhe kahin se na jaane kahin se..

Ek yaad sataane aa gayi..

Kabira.. again

Dheere Dheere Re Mana, Dheere Sub Kutch Hoye
Mali Seenche So Ghara, Ritu Aaye Phal Hoye

We live in a hurried world, at a mad pace, where we want everything to be done yesterday.. Minds are in turmoil over the next thing.. In our rush to achieve, conquer, move ahead we forget the virtue of patience.. we start anticipating results even before we lay the ground work down for something or start getting disheartened when the initial stages of a project don’t yield the desired result..

Living this way of life, we tend to forget nature’s order.. we forget that no matter how often we may water the plant, it will bear fruit only in the right season, when its supposed to..

Kabir Das's doha highlights that our impatience will have the same effect on our work that over irrigation would have on a plant.. It will only cause harm to whatever we are trying to nurture in addition to causing us unnecessary frustration..

Tum hote gar..

Tum hote gar to shayad
Kohra itna gehra na hota

Tum hote gar to shayad
Andhera tanhai mein na doobta

Tum hote gar to shayad
Chaand badlon mein na pighalta

Tum hote gar to shayad
Lamha os ki boond sa nazuk hota

Tum hote gar to shayad
Samaa teri khushboo se mehekta

Tum hote gar to shayad
Zindagi ka har raasta na bhatakta

Tum hote gar to shayad
Madhoshi mayoos na hoti

Tum hote gar to shayad
Muskan meri mehfuz hoti

Tum hote gar to shayad
Bandagi mera yaqeen hoti

Tum hote gar to shayad
Khwabon ki duniya haseen hoti

Tum hote gar to shayad
Paheliyan sulajh jaati

Tume hote gar to shayad
Har dua qubool ho jaati

Tum hote gar to shayad
Tamannain muqammal ho jaati

Tum hote gar to shayad
Main khud se itne sawaal na karti ..

What would I do without you..

Some people are like roads..

They connect people no matter where they are
Make it easier to get to one person from the other
Always have signs ready when one gets lost
Are accessible any time of the day or night
Lead us in various directions – at the end always the right one
Love us enough to let us figure out the right path, even if it involves us getting lost in the beginning
Caution us when to stop, look out or go!
Reaching destinations would be very difficult without them
They can take any amount of load
Get jammed because everybody wants access to them!

Thanks Ma.. this one was for you!

Paani Paani Re..

Nazrein us shyamle aasmaan ke taraf uthaye
Dekhte rahe

Raushni hui kai baar, payal pehne hue

Laga ki abh baadal pighlenge
Paani barsega

Magar na paani barsa, na badal pighle

Aur pyaasi woh dharti, mayoosi ki raat odhe so gayi..

Boondon se baatein..

Y, this is a conversation I had with you in my mind after reading your email this morning, in response to what you said..

I love watching the rain from my window in New York, with just the right amount of light in my room and the air conditioner set at the perfect temperature – did I ever tell you that..

I used to and still read the weather forecast on days predicted with rain to see what time it will start.. Always hoping that it will be around 8 in the evening during dusk when the sky is a beautiful, thick, rich, dark blue. The rain splashing against my window and falling on the river with thunder and lightning in the background is beautiful to me.. I can sit there looking out for countless minutes..

Letting go.. and finding more..

While crossing Times Square on my way home from work last night I was thinking of some of my favorite pictures from the past 5 years clicked either at home or Babson or on vacations with family and friends..

Suddenly and I don’t know how, I recalled a scene for Dil Chahta Hai when in the last scene of the movie Aamir Khan passes by his old college and in flashback sees himself standing and laughing with his two best friends. Life then is simple, uncomplicated and his old self that is unsympathetic to the world in general, turns on him and mocks him for what he has become.. his ego, unrelenting nature and lack of forgiveness..

It all connected for me when I went back home and saw all my pictures, the smiles, the memories, the innocence and the look that challenged me, mocked me and made me remember one of my closest friends.. A friend who was.. no is.. a part of my soul… someone who has shared my tears, joys and moments and someone who along the passage of time lost me and I lost him..

The pictures made me question my present self.. What I had become and why I had become so set in my ideas, my thoughts and yes, maybe my ego…

After a lot of deliberation and a battle with myself I called him and we both realized how much miscommunication had happened.. calls and messages that never went through and moments where both had felt betrayed and hurt because of the other one..

Sometimes its redemption to know that when you have been hurting about something, the other one has been equally tortured.. but last night when I realized how much I had hurt him, whether unknowingly.. but I had.. It hurt me even more..

I have written this very personal thought down today so that if whoever reads it has a friend who they think doesn’t love them anymore, should realize that that the friend probably sitting half way across the world is also sitting and wondering why you don’t love them anymore..