The paper towns
Are all alike,
some old tattered souls,
Some smelling of fresh paint,
Some reaching for the skies
Some with a bush of roses and sunflowers
And a banyan tree,
On the bay of sea,
Surrounding the lake,
Surrounded by the mountains, hills.
What a view.
Despite the garbage bins!
And the human sins.
Do you see the paper towns burning?
A litte fire
And poof!
Do you see the lakes turning red?
Not green , not orange but red.
Blood unfortunately is same.

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Here again!
I am in the middle,
Still, stationary.
Like someone just said “statue!”
Here I am still indulging in
Silly childlike reference,
Unmoving, not prepared.
Stubbornly refusing!
While the life flashes around me,
Like “the flash”
Congratulations flying around,
Left , right, up , down
Centre! No not there,
There I am!
Resisting all the pulls,
All the waves hitting
And leaving me dry!
Everyone and everything rushing,
Forcing, enticing,
Begging me!
To move,
To react,
To decide,
To grow up
And take up life
But all I wanna do
Is STAND!
Still,
Unmoving,
Childlike
Not waiting for someone to say
“Over”

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कोई करले क़ैद गीली मिट्टी की खूशबु को एक डिबिया में,
तो इत्र की तरह खुद पर सजा लु मैं।
हों पहली बारिश सी उम्मीद मुझमें भी,
और तूझे पसंद है वो महक भी पा लू मैं।

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I have realised that I can go through anything in life with a cup of tea and my four girls besides me.

There’s something so empowering about female friendships! They are your best cheerleader, your therapist, your reality check and your voice of conscience.
Don’t let them tell you otherwise, don’t let them pit you against each other.
There is strength in lifting each other up.
There is relief in whining together and showing a set of middle fingers to the world.
There is love in taking care of each other and
Concern in pointing those red flags out.
They hold interventions for you!
They plan celebrations!
They let you be you and save you from you.
I don’t know what I would do without my girlgang!
I owe my sanity and my devil may care attitude to them!

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मेने तुम्हारे नाम को कई बार लिख कर मिटाया है,
पर वो काग़ज़ आज भी सम्भाले हुए है
जिन में तुम्हारे नाम के धुंधले आकार मोज़ुद है।
उन्हें जला देने का सोचा कई बार लेकिन
उन्हें जला देने की हिम्मत नहीं हुई।
शायद मेरी इसी कायरता को
उम्मीद कहते है।
जो तुमसे छुपी है,
तुम्हें बता दु तो तुम तोड़ दोगे,
ओर तुम्हें भुला दु तो
मैं टूट जाऊँगी।

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The more I live
The more I understand
Why people need someone
To be there constantly,
Why it comes easily to most of the people
To get married.
We grow up surrounded by people,
We are used to eating, playing, learning , living.
From sharing things to secrets
And as we grow,
We lose some,
We outgrow some,
We let go of some,
And we miss some.
Then circle gets smaller and smaller
And we learn to eat alone,
To keep things within ourselves,
To enjoy our own company
And the idea of sharing stays with us
And to have someone to do that for life,
Someone who will be there
Who you will not lose
Who you will grow with
Start to make sense,
So when you see people around you
With their secret sharers, their meal partners
You think you want your own too.
I don’t know if that is the right reason.
I have been told it is.
I have never found my own company less exciting or unenjoyable
Or a need for a constant .
But would it be so bad to have one?
Only way to find out!
Curiouser and curiouser!

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The face smiles, the fist knows!

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Somedays I am just a lump on the bed
A faint blurry existence.
Barely moving
Barely breathing
Just there
Passing my time
Waiting to fade into
Nothingness.
Somedays
I am a tiny flame
That can ignite
A whole freaking
Revolution,
Or burndown
The world into ashes.
Somedays I am a tree
Fighting against the wind
Refusing to be uprooted
Destroyed
Holding on to the last
Hope of existence, life.
Somedays
I am a leaf fallen
Away from its tree
Slowly turning
Yellow,
Tossing and turning with breeze.
All of these days
I am me
For better or worse
For death or living
All of these days
I am not me
Lost and forgotten
Embraced and abandoned.
All of these days,
I am everything yet nothing.
Forming and fading.
Blooming and dooming.
Me into me.

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Wo!
Wo pero se kam or ankho se zyada thirakne wali,
Wo ek hath me cigarette to dusre me bourvita rakhne wali.
Kabhi khamosh ese jese awajo se koi wasta na ho,
To kabhi shatabdi ki speed se sarpat bolne wali,
Jiski muskan me sarcasm hai
Or hasi bebak chudelo wali.
Jab mann ho toh shabdo se phool barsae
Or mann hatt jae toh shabdo ki talvar chal jae.
Kabhi kisi kone me ghum toh
Kabhi manch ko apna kehne wali
Wo chotisi chori, bade khwab rakhne wali!
Dekhi hai apne kahi?

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With her little wings,
She flutters ,
Her journey
Around the world,
Hops from tree
To tree,
To be free.
No matter how high,
How far,
For how long
She is away.
All her journeys
Take her back
To where she belongs,
Home.

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