Aur fir kahin door, badalon se muh modkar...
Us indradhanush ne muskurate hue kaha...

Pyaar toh aakhir pyaar hota hai na!

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Guftagoo us chand se kabhi kiya karte the
Jo haste haste humari baat maan liya karta tha
Aaj bhi kar rahe hain chhat par intezaar
Uski ek jhalak ke liye
Par kambakht lagta hai ki usse bhi akelepan ki aadat ho gayi hai!

Badalon se ladkar aao kabhi
Aapka humsafar aapka intezaar jo kar raha hai!

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Kahaaniyon Me Kahin Apni Ek Kahaani Ko Dhund Raha Hoon
Socha Ki Ek Kahaani Main Bhi Sunaoonga
Par Kahaani Toh Uparwala Likh Raha Hai

Kismat Ki
Jahan Har Roz Zindagi Ek Naye Kahaani Se Saamna Kara Rahi Hai!

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He cleared his desk for one last time. He neatly put all the papers, the farewell notes, the movie posters that adorned his softboard and his favorite Rumi quote inside a carton.

As his colleagues secretly glanced from their cubicles, his female colleague came and gave him a pat on his back. 'Trust me, we will see you back in three months.'

Only she knew why he was leaving while rumour mills were ripe with the news of he being involved in a fraud.

No one noticed his late nights, his punctuality at work and his intellect. All they did was notice the note posted in the cafeteria that he was fired.

The office hired a new employee in his place the very next day. But they couldn't get his sincerety back!

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Baarish ka kya...
Woh toh kabhi bhi barasta hain...
Khushi tab hoti hai...
Jab uski pehli boond aapke aankhon, haathon aur rooh ko choo jaati hai!

Aur Mumbai ki baarish ka kya bataien...
Is bheed bhare shor-sharabe sheher me
Bas teri hi ek awaaz madhur si lagti hai!
Tu anjana sa lagta nahi hai.. Bas tu anjana sa lagta nahi hai!

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Bahut arzo se kiya tera intezar
Socha ki ab mulaqaat ho hi jayegi

Adhoore sapne aur khwaishon ko poora karne ki Chahat
Tanhaiyaan aur soonapan me bitaye hue woh lamhe

Laga ki ab intezaar khatm hoga
Aur kahin guftagoo ho hi jayegi

Par na woh shaam aayi na woh raat
Bas adhoori hi reh gayi woh mulaqat!

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It was a hot summer evening. Several visitors thronged the exhibition ground and let their kids enjoy cotton candy and other delicacies.

At the street near the ground, a lady sat with a stack of toys waiting for curious kids to drag their parents to make a purchase, while her toddler son loitered around a posh toy store nearby.

His gaze constantly was at a tricycle, and he was fascinated by the way it produced music by the press of a button.

While the crowd continued to build at the ground, the lady managed to make a buck.

Meanwhile, the toddler stealthily seated himself on one of the cycles placed outside for display and enjoyed to his heart's content.

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"It's hurting ammi", she clasped her fist and bit her tongue in the process.
Her teary-eyed mother couldn't do anything but console her daughter, who was writhing in pain.
She bandaged the wound around her face.

"Ammi, will I look ugly with this mark on my face? Will anyone marry me?"
These were the questions she didn't have answers to.

She only knew that the scars would fade away but her daughter would never be able to erase the memories of that horrific night.

That evening it was not just a little girl who lost the battle but an entire society that failed to raise their men right.

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Every night she used to snuggle into her favorite night suit and watch funny cat videos.

She could relate to their clumsiness.

One morning, she woke up to the sound of utensils falling in the kitchen.

When she went to the kitchen, she was surprised to see a cat slowly licking the milk from the platform.

That day, she became a proud cat mommy.

In the city, where every night loneliness crept in, she found company!

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I was longing for her company. She always came to my rescue when I was low. And now, on a rainy Sunday afternoon, I made up my mind that I will find her.

No matter what happens, I'll find her.
After searching the entire house, I finally found her in the attic.

Snuggled inside a carton, amidst several books, a packet of cola bottle caps, a peacock feather and cricket cards, everything that formed a part of my childhood.

It was the old diary.

As I flipped through the tattered pages and read the old poems, a thousand memories rekindled.

The black leather cover on the diary and the brown paper with holes smelled just like the dampness in the air.

It was like falling in love all over again.

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