Skip to main content

Tere Khat

Tere khushboo mein base khat main jalaata kaise,
Pyaar mein doobe huey khat main jalaata kaise,
Tere haathon ke likhe khat main jalaata kaise,
Jinko duniyaa ki nighaahon se chupaaye rakhaa,
Jinko ek umr kaleje se lagaaye rakhaa,
Deen jinhe jinko imaan banaaye rakhaa,
Tere khushboo mein base khat main jalaata kaise,
Jinkaa har lafz mujhe yaad paani ki tarah
Yaad they mujh ko jo paigaame jubaani ki tarah,
Mujhko pyaare they jo anmol nishaani ki tarah,
Tere khushboo mein base khat main jalaata kaise,
Tune duniyaa ki nighaahon se bach kar likhe,
Saal-ah-saal mere naam baraabar likhe,
Kabhi din mein to kabhi raat ko uth kar likhe,
Tere khushboo mein base khat main jalaata kaise,
Pyaar mein doobe huey khat main jalaata kaise,
Tere haanthon ke likhe khat main jalaata kaise,
Tere khat aaj main ganga bahaa aayaa hoon,
Aag behte huey paani mein lagaa aayaa hoon.

We wrote 72 letters each to our school addresses. That was 10th, 11th and 12th. And I thought that I had found my partner for life. All those letters that I let go of...after I had no hatred left for you. After you left, leaving me all alone.. I hated you with an intensity that made me inhuman. People still remember me with shock and awe.. the way I was then. I remember the only trip I ever made to Ganges which still flows in Kanpur... was to cremate the letters. Inspired by these lines...I did that foolishness.

It was nice to see your handwriting once in a while. It was nice to smell the paper your hand had once graced. I still have your half yellow handkerchief that I stole from you. I still have your 17 mails. But I have no news of you. Yesterday I listened to these lines at home on my new Sony Machine. And you flooded me with memories all night. It was you and me and I did not want to come to office today. I am still infatutaed with you.. as you said once. I will put that one article which took IITK by storm when it was published.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Raizada Heritage Fund and Trip to Woodlands

I have a confession to make. We don’t have a sofa at home. We seriously don’t.. Over the last two years, whenever Vartika has broached the touchy topic of a Sofa buy, I have ended up doing rants on how the money saved on not buying a Sofa would be able to feed us for a month, in case startup went bust. (And no, I was not counting on dumb UPA government allowing Sharad Pawar to make billions running amok on the vegetable and cereals market and looting us. In that case, count that sum to last for mere 15 days. That rant is for a separate day) Imagine a 30-40k sofa and me eating it, like the borers mostly do. Tough to imagine and sad to think of. So I return to the sofa tales. Vartika knew I had make her do with those mattresses. You know how dumb I am, relentlessly pointless. Unfortunately I ran into an Ariean, and that too my Mom. She looked at me and the mattresses and then again at me, and I went ballistic. From the sensibility of an accountant, to the eruditeness of an economist (De
Post a Comment
Read more

Can life teach?

It actually began, quite reluctantly. Unnecessary as it may seem, life teaches you what you allow it to teach. Even Life cannot teach you what it offers you. One has to let himself dissolve into the experience and let it sink in, and that I might call religion or education. Whatever the other person is willing to accept. Nay. Does it matter? Nay. Life is about teaching oneself. Being a self-thought-taught "person", picking up bits and pieces from various experiences, I tread on a path; I have myself laid out for myself. Never have I asked, in other words, begged for words, from "messiahs". Never did I think myself of having enough virtue, call it patience, to learn from others. So "rich" were my experiences. Things change, dynamically. Responding to an open question, throwing caution to the winds, I immersed myself into a debate, with people who thought, had streamlined their thinking apparatus and abilities. Gradually, they pestered; read "lee
3 comments
Read more

The void...

I feel empty. I feel raw. I feel rotten. I feel like not feeling. I have nothing to show, if someone to ask me about what I have achieved in my stay on this planet. Nothing. what is a few flirtations with literature, knowledge, pain and sweat. No blood. No tears. No medallions. No gallantry. Ah! I am disgusted with myself for being so ordinary. I deserve the void for I do not work half as hard as I could. I am wasting my life.
3 comments
Read more