I am on the cusp of a new beginning, or atleast, that is what I'd like to think. Change. Yes, change is what I crave for. Change is what I want. Change is what I need. Is change possible? Perhaps yes. Perhaps no. But do I stop myself from trying only because failure is the most obvious possibility?
I don't have an answer.
And what is the change I am craving for?
I don't know that either. The only thing that I know is, I am falling into the same trap that I have always advocated against. It is ironical, but it's true. If I want to be harsh on myself, I'd call it sheer opportunism, or if I have to rationalise and justify/defend myself, it can be called being pragmatic.
I am not too sure whether I'll be successful, or for that matter what is success? It is definitely not the same thing i thought of once, and I was never idealistic. I never craved for a utopian world, but then I never wanted to be a part of this extremely materialistic society as well. Perhaps, that was/is the reason for the choices I made/make. But now, everything seems like a distant dream.
Call it disillusionment, or call it failure.
I put on the garb of a Saint
Smear myself with holy paint,
Only to Fail
कटते हुए पतंग ने मांझें से पूछा
उलझा तो तू, पर मैं क्यों कटा
मेरी क्या गलती थी
मैंने क्या था किया
मेरा क्या होगा, क्या तूने कभी है सोचा
मांझे ने बोला
आसमां में उड़ने की
चाहत तेरी थी
बादलों में तू बसना चाहता था
रिश्ते तूने जोड़े थे
अगर मैंने तोड़ दिया
तो इसमें मेरी क्या भूल
न तो तूने मेरी फितरत को जाना
न ही पूछी मेरी मर्जी
आज मुझे अनजाना क्यों कह रहा है
जब तूने कभी था ही नहीं पहचाना
खुदको कहकर भोला
तू क्या जताना चाहता है
मुझ पर उठाकर उंगली
क्या बताना चाहता है
क्या हुआ है
क्या हुआ था
ये तुझे भी है पता...
मैं तो सिर्फ एक धागा हूं
ख्वाब तो तू बुन रहा था
गलती किसकी है...
अब तू बता
Sid
Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
and only for one place
I rejoice things as they are and
I renounce the blessed and engraved face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice
And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us.
Not my lines, but my favorite poet's. Just thought I should put it up, and that's why they are here
Every morning
when the rude sun
creeps in through the blinds,
and intrudes into my dream...
I open my eyes, and think...
I am Blessed
Every evening
as I stagger in
The soft light of the street lamp
rushes in through the window
and lulls me to sleep.
As I close my eyes, I think...
I am Cursed
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
जिस्म की बिसात पर
रिश्तों का खेल खेलते है
बेडरूम के बंद दरवाज़े को
जरा गौ़र से देखो
उतारे हुए कपड़ो के साथ
आत्मा भी लटकी है
चादरों के रेशमी तागों में
जिंदगी अटकी है
बिस्तर पर हर रात
एक नई चाल चलते है
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
मुंह से निकलते धुएं को
ज़रा गौ़र से देखो
उस धुंधली सी धुंध में
कुछ सपने तर्श है
छल के इस महल में
न तो छत है,न ही फर्श है
रिश्तों के अलाव पर
सिगरेट जलते है
चेहरों पर चेहरे चिपकाएं घूमते है
