NAZAR...

JAANE KYA LEHER THI UN BEYZARAAR NAZRON ME,
JISME SAMA KAR YU BEHETA CHALA GYA.........
BEREHEM BAEHRI TOOFANO KI BEKHABRI ME.. .
SAHILON KE AARMAN SAJATA CHALA GYA.........
DUUBNE KA KHAUF THA JEHEN ME PHIR BHI
KHABON KE RAASTE BANATA CHALLA GAYA
AAJ MEIN AKSAR DIL SE PUUCHTA HU YE...
KYU AAPNI HAAR KA JASHN TU YU MANATA CHALA GYA.........

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A restroom with mirror

A mirror in a College restroom ( Boys) is a rare thing,and it was even rarer in our college.There was one sole mirror in the ground floor boy's rest room,and trust me,that restroom can write thousand stories.Stories which have all the emotions of a human mind,from love to hate to anxiety.
That restroom was a pilgrimage for every guy in the college,a must visit before the start of the day and after the day ends.Even people from third floor used to come all the way down just for that restroom,or on their way to the canteen.
It has seen people standing there in front of the mirror for hrs. trying to get a perfect look to impress "Her".It has seen people crying and washing there face when their heart got broken or they got a ATKT in exam.It has seen the nostalgia of that last day,when people are queued to get their tie knots right,with a tear in their eye.
"Budding romances",when a guy used to come in front of mirror after every ten minutes just to see if his hair is rightly set,or if his face is not having any mark.
During Exams it used to perfectly capture all the anxiety and during the sports week,it was a place where war strategies were made.
Its walls had numerous things written on it,from love confessions to abuses.Things which the tongue refused to say in front were captured in that "Canvas".

My sincere tribute goes to that historical place,for being such an integral part of every male students life.

Politicians divide the nation,terrorists unite.

Why do we always need a sacrifice to bring revolution ? We always need Bhagat Singh,Hemant Karkare or Major Sandip unnikrishnan to sacrifice their lives,just because we are sleeping.
Few decades back,it was the Britishers,who were trying to divide the nation,so that they can rule.Now we have politicians who are doing the same thing.But at least the British
were loyal to their own country.
But here we have a moron who beat up his own country men just because they are from some other part of the nation,and because of poverty migrated to earn their livings.
He claimed that he can lay his life for the people of his state,and when the time came,he was nowhere to be seen.
Instead the NSG commando who laid his life turned out to be from the Bihar regiment.
So for the time it seems that the interstate fire has doused and people are looking united as one country,determined to fight terror.Only the time will tell for how long this would continue.

Highway

The road was dark and deserted ,with past left to stare;

telling the tail of broken dreams,and hopes left bruised and bare;
the wheels kept moving,with a spark often to scare;

wondering when the ride would stop and it would take me where.

with no one in sight,

the road never seemed to end;

i took wrong turns quiet often,

and never got a chance to follow the bend;

the tarmac was dark and grey,

laid with a lot of pain;

were my tears showing through the ride,

or was the looking glass covered with rain?

i missed the directions,i took the wrong turn;

i ended the journey all alone,where it had begun;

Visibility...

Can I resist this urge?Is it one I may purge?
In vein it still exists,Shall I continue to persist?
A feeling deep inside,
Spiraling, spinning and opening wide,
I catch a glimpse out of the corner of my eye,
I try to fight it off, but it rests inside,
Dormant for now waiting to appear,
In the most chaotic of times, I fear,
Soon we'll realize what is gone,
Trying not to fade away,
I know what's coming down,
I bear it true, bruises black and blue,
A fog so thick I can't see through,
I embrace the past with blurry vision,
Cutting through misconceptions with guided percision,
Relishing the words spoken and hearts broken,
And cherishing the memories that came before a rash decision.

Destiny..

With those trembling hands,

searching the garbage bin,

for a piece of bread,

perhaps paying for his sin.

Not looking for food,i wonder,

looking for his destiny.

covered with rags

which were torn to pieces,

bare legs with deep bruises.

Same destiny which once rested in his hands,

a Belief that he could

turn the world and find gold,

by hunting deserts of sand.

But time is no one's friend,

when hits like a lighting thunder,

no one can escape its fury,

be it Cesar or Alexander.

the fingers which once pointed to the world in pride,

are soaked into the garbage tin,

looking for a place to hide.

Not looking for food,i wonder,

looking for his destiny,

in the garbage tin.

Coming back to life

Dedicate to Pink Floyd ,their most beautiful song,in the memory of Richard Wright.

Coming back to life--

" Where were you when I was burned and broken

While the days slipped by from my window watching

And where were you when I was hurt and I was helpless

Because the things you say and the things you do surround me

While you were hanging yourself on someone else's words

Dying to believe in what you heard

I was staring straight into the shining sun

Lost in thought and lost in time

While the seeds of life and the seeds of change were planted

Outside the rain fell dark and slow

While I pondered on this dangerous but irresistible pastime

I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the moment had arrived

For killing the past and coming back to life

I took a heavenly ride through our silence

I knew the waiting had begun

And I headed straight..into the shining sun"--

Pink Floyd