sitharon se baathein karne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main unhe pahunch nahin paayi...
phoolon se dosti karne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main unhe batha nahin paayi...
pavan ke jhokon se gale lagne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main unhe chu nahin paayi...
panchiyon ki tharah udne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main pankh la nahin paayi...
koyal ki tharah gaane ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main achanak apne aap ko besuri paayi...
sooraj ki tharah ugne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main neeche kheench di gayi...
baadalon ki tharah machalne ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main unki tharah aazadi nahin paayi...
zindagi ke har rang mein jeene ki khwaahish thi..
lekin main khud zindagi ban nahin paayi...
aisi kya galthi ho gayi mujhse..
ki main apni khwaahishon ko bha nahin paayi...
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Sunday, April 15, 2007
Memories to Cherish - my childhood in mumbai
my initial days of schooling...
hmmm...i dwelled a lot on where to start with as my childhood was not restricted to a particular place in India. I have been to many places in Andhra Pradesh and in fact three states in India. Among them the one that is indelible from my mind is 'Aamchi mumbai'. Yup...the tacky, the thronged one.. yet delectable, exotic, mighty, plush, scenic, swanky Mumbai and hmm…if I run with the same pace I am sure that I just can’t end up….
Anyways to start with….my schooling has begun in mumbai,…the business city of India.I am done with my primary education(2nd,3rd n 4th classes) at nanik English high school in Mumbai. My first day at school ended up in a quite freaky way. Even now I jus can’t stop chortling when ever those reminiscences crawl into my mind….
The moment I lollopped into the class I descried many of my co-mates staring at me astounded. As I was from a typical orthodox south Indian family I donned a half saree,wore a tight plait doused with oil and worked out vermilion on my forehead. I was almost dewy- eyed and felt a bit edgy as I peeped at them. Most of them were tad posh with modern outfits and loose hairs. The first hour of the class went on nonchalantly. Later to my astonishment the distance between us dwindled and many of them were enthused to know about me and I was elated when I cud pal up with a few of them….
As I was a native of south India, my mumbai cronies were very much under the delusion that I was a madrasi despite me being a hyderabadi. Not only a mumbaite almost everyone from north India were generally under the illusion that if someone was from south India then that fellow had to be a madrasi..phew!!!
But I consider myself very lucky as i was never teased or exasperated by them for being a south Indian. The camaraderie that I shared with each one of them was quite sterling. I would like to spur the above statement with an instance. After a few days from my date of joining I had a squabble with one of my classmates and on the spur of the moment she hit me hard. I broke into tears(my eyes have a great AFFINITY for water…tears just disgorged from my eyes..don’t u believe me? many of my friends are live witnesses for that)but the very next moment one of my co mates(Tejal) tackled the situation by edifying the other girl that I had recently recovered from typhoid and that it was indeed very idiotic to hit me. My foe (Rachna..just kidding) apologized and from then we turned out to be good friends…
Infact my friends used to adore me and I was always teachers’ pet which made me exhilarated. In my initial days of schooling, learning hindi and marathi was a herculean task but gradually I could make myself comfortable in them and every one was flabbergasted when I was one among the top five in the class in the very first unit test. I was quite overwhelmed as that was my first triumph in my life…:)
hmmm...i dwelled a lot on where to start with as my childhood was not restricted to a particular place in India. I have been to many places in Andhra Pradesh and in fact three states in India. Among them the one that is indelible from my mind is 'Aamchi mumbai'. Yup...the tacky, the thronged one.. yet delectable, exotic, mighty, plush, scenic, swanky Mumbai and hmm…if I run with the same pace I am sure that I just can’t end up….
Anyways to start with….my schooling has begun in mumbai,…the business city of India.I am done with my primary education(2nd,3rd n 4th classes) at nanik English high school in Mumbai. My first day at school ended up in a quite freaky way. Even now I jus can’t stop chortling when ever those reminiscences crawl into my mind….
The moment I lollopped into the class I descried many of my co-mates staring at me astounded. As I was from a typical orthodox south Indian family I donned a half saree,wore a tight plait doused with oil and worked out vermilion on my forehead. I was almost dewy- eyed and felt a bit edgy as I peeped at them. Most of them were tad posh with modern outfits and loose hairs. The first hour of the class went on nonchalantly. Later to my astonishment the distance between us dwindled and many of them were enthused to know about me and I was elated when I cud pal up with a few of them….
As I was a native of south India, my mumbai cronies were very much under the delusion that I was a madrasi despite me being a hyderabadi. Not only a mumbaite almost everyone from north India were generally under the illusion that if someone was from south India then that fellow had to be a madrasi..phew!!!
But I consider myself very lucky as i was never teased or exasperated by them for being a south Indian. The camaraderie that I shared with each one of them was quite sterling. I would like to spur the above statement with an instance. After a few days from my date of joining I had a squabble with one of my classmates and on the spur of the moment she hit me hard. I broke into tears(my eyes have a great AFFINITY for water…tears just disgorged from my eyes..don’t u believe me? many of my friends are live witnesses for that)but the very next moment one of my co mates(Tejal) tackled the situation by edifying the other girl that I had recently recovered from typhoid and that it was indeed very idiotic to hit me. My foe (Rachna..just kidding) apologized and from then we turned out to be good friends…
Infact my friends used to adore me and I was always teachers’ pet which made me exhilarated. In my initial days of schooling, learning hindi and marathi was a herculean task but gradually I could make myself comfortable in them and every one was flabbergasted when I was one among the top five in the class in the very first unit test. I was quite overwhelmed as that was my first triumph in my life…:)
Saturday, April 7, 2007
dard...
jab kaanta choobtha hai,to than ko chot zaroor lagthi hai...
lekin woh zakhm, kabhi na kabhi mit jaatha hai...
magar jab dosti jhooti nikalthi hai,thab chot man ko lagthi hai...
aur woh dard zindagi bhar nahin mit tha...
lekin woh zakhm, kabhi na kabhi mit jaatha hai...
magar jab dosti jhooti nikalthi hai,thab chot man ko lagthi hai...
aur woh dard zindagi bhar nahin mit tha...
Monday, April 2, 2007
Moments of surging bliss....
waking up in the dawn when the peeking beams of balmy sunlight solace the skin emmoliently...
dousing oneself in the serene evening welcoming the spanking first drizzle of the year ecstatically...
harking to the melliflous muzic on the radio while exuding the daunting stress of the day starkly...
soothing up the soul by snuggling into the lap of mama in a starry dulcet night placidly...
turning nostalgic while dandling a tot and indulging the boisterous deeds it elicits ebulliently...
showering of accolades by the cronies when descried crooning an ethereal ballad euphoniously...
disgorging of tears with flaunt when the quest for pinnacle is embodied truimphantly...
douching of sparks of pride from the eyes of papa when seen the world giving his child encomiums heartfully...
finally...expressing gratitude to the enchanting almighty for having endowed the invaluable human incarnation humbly...
dousing oneself in the serene evening welcoming the spanking first drizzle of the year ecstatically...
harking to the melliflous muzic on the radio while exuding the daunting stress of the day starkly...
soothing up the soul by snuggling into the lap of mama in a starry dulcet night placidly...
turning nostalgic while dandling a tot and indulging the boisterous deeds it elicits ebulliently...
showering of accolades by the cronies when descried crooning an ethereal ballad euphoniously...
disgorging of tears with flaunt when the quest for pinnacle is embodied truimphantly...
douching of sparks of pride from the eyes of papa when seen the world giving his child encomiums heartfully...
finally...expressing gratitude to the enchanting almighty for having endowed the invaluable human incarnation humbly...
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