Under normal circumstances I would have been irritated
How many times can someone listen to “govinda ala re”
Dahi handi led to dimaag ka dahi
But something has changed
Maybe my attitude has…
Forced confinement in a flat
No pressure of deadlines
No cursing traffic jams I can do nothing about
No need to make polite conversations with people I want to kill
I actually rediscovered stuff I had buried somewhere far away
And am loving spending time with this long forgotten friend
Feeling the warmth in a stranger’s voice
And trusting him
And not assuming that there must be a hidden agenda
Love the fact that I can read a book and get lost in it
Not multitasking to get nothing done
Listening to music that I love
Losing myself in the mood
Actually listening to people when they speak
Enjoying the story my mom has repeated a hundred times
Getting to know how life was for my maid in her native village
Returning calls, which I meant to ages ago.
Making peace with myself
Forgiving people who caused me pain
Crying over loses I had no time to mourn
Willing to welcome life again…
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Friday, August 8, 2008
Mera Dost
Vo bahut achcha dost tha mera
Mujhe hansata tha, kabhi kabhi mujh pe hansta tha
Mere darr samajhta tha, apne darr batata tha
Phir ne jaane kaise vo dost se aashiq ban gaya
Donon bahut kush the
Par kuch badal gaya
Sab kuch badal gaya
Ab haq jaataye jaate the
Na kehna mushkil tha to dono ne jhoot bolna shuru kiya
Par rishta itna gehra tha ke jhoot pakade jaate the
Aur yeh kabool karna ke jhoot kaha hai namumkin tha
To rishton ki, logon ki, misaalien di jaane lagi
Kasurvaar dono the
Ya shayaad rishte ko naam dena kasur tha
Usne ek baar galti ki to tohmat lagi ke hamesha karte ho
Maine kabhi baat chupaiye to ishq se bharosa ladkhadaya
Har baat mein chupi huye baat dhoondi jaati thi
Har baar kuch kehne se pehle sochna padhta tha
Pehle meri jin baton ko bachpana kaha jaata tha
Ab vo laparvahi ban gayi
Jab ek zamane mein vo mere saath mere khaandan pe hansta tha
Aaj uska vohi karna iss baat ka saboot tha ke vo badtameez hai
aur sabse zyaada yeh baat khalti hain ke jab milna zaroori nahi tha
to na jaane kaise roz milne ka waqt mil jaata tha
ab na milne ke karan dhoondhe jaate hain
aur hairat ki baat hai ke mil bhi jaatien hai
lekin usko acting nahi aati
agar vo mera sirf dost hotato hum dono iss baat pe bahut hanste....
Mujhe hansata tha, kabhi kabhi mujh pe hansta tha
Mere darr samajhta tha, apne darr batata tha
Phir ne jaane kaise vo dost se aashiq ban gaya
Donon bahut kush the
Par kuch badal gaya
Sab kuch badal gaya
Ab haq jaataye jaate the
Na kehna mushkil tha to dono ne jhoot bolna shuru kiya
Par rishta itna gehra tha ke jhoot pakade jaate the
Aur yeh kabool karna ke jhoot kaha hai namumkin tha
To rishton ki, logon ki, misaalien di jaane lagi
Kasurvaar dono the
Ya shayaad rishte ko naam dena kasur tha
Usne ek baar galti ki to tohmat lagi ke hamesha karte ho
Maine kabhi baat chupaiye to ishq se bharosa ladkhadaya
Har baat mein chupi huye baat dhoondi jaati thi
Har baar kuch kehne se pehle sochna padhta tha
Pehle meri jin baton ko bachpana kaha jaata tha
Ab vo laparvahi ban gayi
Jab ek zamane mein vo mere saath mere khaandan pe hansta tha
Aaj uska vohi karna iss baat ka saboot tha ke vo badtameez hai
aur sabse zyaada yeh baat khalti hain ke jab milna zaroori nahi tha
to na jaane kaise roz milne ka waqt mil jaata tha
ab na milne ke karan dhoondhe jaate hain
aur hairat ki baat hai ke mil bhi jaatien hai
lekin usko acting nahi aati
agar vo mera sirf dost hotato hum dono iss baat pe bahut hanste....
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Neighbours
Let’s call her ruby for now.
I would have thought she had a name like that. Something silly and frivolous.
That’s the kind of person she came across the first time I saw her in the elevator. I had just moved into my new apartment and I figured so had she. She had that sassy single vibe that girls who live by themselves give out. Unlike the smug marrieds!
Over the next couple of months, I figured there were quite a few of us like that in the block. In fact Sandy, the graphic designer and I became pals since we began sharing a maid and then confidences. I’d rather I tell her what was happening in my life than the distorted version shantabai would give her! Arati, the really talkative film editor also became more than a nodding acquaintance
But with ruby it was always just a smile or a hi. With the crazy work schedules we keep and the constant sleep deprivation, the need to chat up new people is minimal.
Yet she did intrigue me. She had some traits that gave her away as a small town girl with tinsel town dreams. Maybe it was the way she dressed or her exaggerated squeals when someone got a dog in the elevator once.
We did speak to each other. Once when I got into a spat with a neighbour on parking space and she was passing by. She jumped into the argument since he had done the same with her at some point. Another time, in the glorious Mumbai monsoon when both of us got into the elevator we spoke about what each of us would love to eat in this weather. Coffee and kababs for me and chai and pakoras is what she wanted. When it was time for me to get off, we both laughed that maggi noodles is perhaps the maximum we would be able to manage at this point.
The liftman once mentioned that she was an actress and her show was on tv tonight. Catch me watching soaps I thought to myself. Another time I passed her by leaning on my car and cooing into her phone. We waved at each other and when I got back 45 minutes later after an invigorating walk, she was still there on the phone and very obviously crying. Boyfriend troubles are so universal said the cynic in me.
For the last month I had been working almost round the clock and here I was on a much deserved break in goa. Thank god the resort had newspapers from Bombay I said as I poured my third cup of coffee. And there she was on the front page. Of course it was her. The piece mentioned the building where she lived. Young tv actress caught with 17 crores in her flat. Matka king’s moll. Was part of a global hawala racket. It was all over the news channels too. She was being discussed and dissected. Neighbours were quoted saying she kept to herself. Her mother in rajasthan was sobbing saying she believed her daughter was happily married to a businessman in London. She herself was looking ill when she was being led into the police van hounded by channels who wanted that elusive sound byte. Without her make up and confident demeanour she looked like a 16 year old waif, certainly not someone plotting murders and terrorist attacks.
Mumbai is a very cruel city….
I would have thought she had a name like that. Something silly and frivolous.
That’s the kind of person she came across the first time I saw her in the elevator. I had just moved into my new apartment and I figured so had she. She had that sassy single vibe that girls who live by themselves give out. Unlike the smug marrieds!
Over the next couple of months, I figured there were quite a few of us like that in the block. In fact Sandy, the graphic designer and I became pals since we began sharing a maid and then confidences. I’d rather I tell her what was happening in my life than the distorted version shantabai would give her! Arati, the really talkative film editor also became more than a nodding acquaintance
But with ruby it was always just a smile or a hi. With the crazy work schedules we keep and the constant sleep deprivation, the need to chat up new people is minimal.
Yet she did intrigue me. She had some traits that gave her away as a small town girl with tinsel town dreams. Maybe it was the way she dressed or her exaggerated squeals when someone got a dog in the elevator once.
We did speak to each other. Once when I got into a spat with a neighbour on parking space and she was passing by. She jumped into the argument since he had done the same with her at some point. Another time, in the glorious Mumbai monsoon when both of us got into the elevator we spoke about what each of us would love to eat in this weather. Coffee and kababs for me and chai and pakoras is what she wanted. When it was time for me to get off, we both laughed that maggi noodles is perhaps the maximum we would be able to manage at this point.
The liftman once mentioned that she was an actress and her show was on tv tonight. Catch me watching soaps I thought to myself. Another time I passed her by leaning on my car and cooing into her phone. We waved at each other and when I got back 45 minutes later after an invigorating walk, she was still there on the phone and very obviously crying. Boyfriend troubles are so universal said the cynic in me.
For the last month I had been working almost round the clock and here I was on a much deserved break in goa. Thank god the resort had newspapers from Bombay I said as I poured my third cup of coffee. And there she was on the front page. Of course it was her. The piece mentioned the building where she lived. Young tv actress caught with 17 crores in her flat. Matka king’s moll. Was part of a global hawala racket. It was all over the news channels too. She was being discussed and dissected. Neighbours were quoted saying she kept to herself. Her mother in rajasthan was sobbing saying she believed her daughter was happily married to a businessman in London. She herself was looking ill when she was being led into the police van hounded by channels who wanted that elusive sound byte. Without her make up and confident demeanour she looked like a 16 year old waif, certainly not someone plotting murders and terrorist attacks.
Mumbai is a very cruel city….
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