I hope it hurts you.
I hope your heart aches everytime.
When you hear my song.
You feel yourself staring out of the window.
Wishing one of the faces in the crowd would be mine.
Just so you can see me again.
I hope it hurts everytime it rains.
Since you still picture me.
Sitting by the window with a cup of coffee, lost in the pages of a new book.
I hope it hurts everytime you passby a bookstore
Because you know if I was there with you
I would drag you in the store then you would whine the whole time.
Getting jealous of the fact that books are getting more attention than you.
I hope it hurts when you are walking through a crowded street.
You get a whiff of your favorite smell.
You feel like burying your nose in my hair once again.
I hope it hurts every time you hear a giggle similar to mine, you try to visualize my face and the way it lit up to a joke you just cracked
Honestly I hope it hurts you , because I know I was not just an another name to you.
Death Of A Bookstore
The room is cold and sterile,
Bereft of sensations.
The walls exude a chill,
As a thin light through the window spills.
Casting pale shadows on racks,
Dry yet musty,
Where the tomes rest, in slothful idleness,
And volumes of tales, lost in translation,
Spineless and desiccated,
Paper backs and hard backs, in desolation,
Their timeworn leaves rasping sad stories of estrangement-
None to take, none to hold, none to own.
Saunters in the empty aisles,
A loner, looking at
Dissociated and distanced by brackets.
Foggy titles on dusty covers and dusty jackets.
This world is spookish,
And anything but bookish.
Oh for that waft of warm scent!
Of bounded leather and printed paper,
Of steaming mugs and rustling leaves,
Of hushed tones and sunny spirits.
Alas! The bewitching hour is spent.
The bookworm’s beating heart stills.
The truth unveils,
Like an anticlimactic ending of a chapter,
It is now a local lore,
‘Death of a Bookstore’
Electronic earthworms can now chomp ‘n slurp away million bytes a minute to flashy pen drives as we relax getting a caffeine refill or hairdo.
Whether we get it all into our grey cells is another matter!
Era of the on demand literati has arrived.
When book stores die let electronic stores sprout!
More money in the latter if you ask me!
Come unannounced sometimes
When you are like free rhymes,
That comes creeping anytime.
Come and remind me of my existence
Call me by my name with persistence
Flying like a broken kite in daylight
Bring in smiling happiness bright.
Chirps in dawn with sweet melody
Like the cold breeze kisses my cheek
When I feel exhausted and weak.
Crossing through meshes of metals
Drown me in your tender presence
I long for those liberated moments.
Come like a child without inhibition
Who comes to play pranks forbidden
I need playful gestures of innocence
When nothing matters but sensations.
Come with the gift of your vacant mind
Stealing some mischief of sunshine
Under the tree our hearts will swing
We will fly together on unseen wings.
Come to spend the day at leisure
When our company is the only pleasure
Don’t bring a watch for time to measure
When I wear the wings of my dreams,
Then I sing the song of my life,
When I hum the tune of my wishes,
Then I write the enchanting words of delight.
Golden hair strands, roll over my forehead,
I carefully put them aside,
This is when, I look into my own dreamy eyes,
I turn to the keyboard, I smile and I write.
Flowers of ecstacy, spreads their fragrance in the air,
I look at the thorns, that pricked me, once in disguise,
Suddenly I realize, What I have inside,
The most valuable possession is life…
The curls of my hair, flutter in the air,
The lashes of my eye, blink and I sigh,
Looking at the past is a long lost lane,
I wandered here and there, never wanting to be sane…
Raindrops asked me to sit and introspect,
I love rains, I finally have to give them respect,
The winds moved and then took a new way,
I realized my life was simple, yet on a highway…
I look out of my long –glass-window pane,
I see someone running to me, I realize its rain!
I stepped in my own shows, removing the mask over me,
The shining face beneath was making a plea,
Then I realized…
Colors of mist may mock in pride,
Devils of past may ridicule in every premise,
But I look into the mirror,this is when I smile,
I know, I haven’t lost myself, I am a true being inside.
Life is an unfinished book
Future pages are still draft
Write, edit, erase, cut…rewrite it again and again to get make it a perfect book.
Every comma, full stop, semi colon, question mark, exclamation mark has a meaning.
Each punctuation mark is powerful enough to change the whole meaning.
Check, recheck, edit, reedit every single line, word, phrase and punctuation.
You should edit grammar and sentence structure as well because they can create or destroy the meaning
Editing is boring.
Editing is time consuming.
But it’s necessary to make the perfect book-life. Never regret for a bad first draft.
Remember no draft is final till it is published.
Write and edit your book of life carefully to make your draft of life as a happy journey.
Life is not a film. There are no happy or sad endings.
Life is a continuous journey…like a river.
My sadness is small ;
As small as a teardrop rolling down my cheek.
And on the others,
It’s too huge to fit into my hands.
It stretches, it expands
And becomes a giant monster.
It visits me on lonely nights
With lilies and chocolates.
It slits my skin
And pulls out my veins
Like guitar strings
And plays a strange rhythm.
It sings gloomy songs to me
And makes me eat bitter memories for dinner.
On some days,
It hides inside my pocket like a baby bird;
And on others,
It holds my hand
Like my lover
And we go out for a walk.
It makes love to me every night
We blend into each other;
So perfectly that
We become indistinguishable.
But when I try to leave,
Howls like a wolf.
It throws the crockery at me
And cuts my skin with a knife.
It bites me
And strangles me until I’m out of breath.
Hey, here today I have something, which I really wanted to write since long. Today I am here to tell you all some things that I and my Dad share in common….
All my life I have been Daddy’s gurl.Still I am…hey, all the men out there who are single…can not understand this…how it feels to be Daddy’s gurl…and all those married and father’s of baby girls…can be proud of, after reading this one…for, this is dedicated to all of them…and also to the wonderful daughters…
Half of the year I have a bad throat…gawwddd how it aches, tonsillitis yap, have a severe problem of tonsils yaar, and each time I get that, I almost loose my voice,but, ye kno I have inherited this from my Dad and then I just become happy saying we have it in our family…my Grand ma had this, My dad has it and I also have it…hehhehe
We both cry while watching movies…both of us are big time movie buffs and very emotional. Each time we watch any movie, even on the slightest of emotional scene we both drop tears. I remember once long back we both were watching “Daddy” in the night at home. When the movie ended and Mom switched on the light she burst out laughing , seeing both of mine and dad’s pillow fully wet with tears and we said to Mom you are not at all emotional yaar…
Both of us are very choosy. It’s although the other thing that he chooses so fast and always the best..n I take hell of time even to choose a single dress and end up at second best.
Both of us love driving….he drives slow n safe…I drive rash and bad.
We both have a common person who is the love of our life….yeah! My Mom.
Rains can make me go mad, I m crazy about rains and so is he…we both love rains…though each time we drench n come inside, we catch cough and cold and then Mom scolds but then…can’t stop loving rains…
All the honky-ponky, crisky-prisky, houtie-toutie, doodle-do things are done by me and dad at home…we make a mess around..now for people who are thinking whadda hell these okie-dokie words mean…hey dontcha worry…just break your nerves…and figure them out.
Ahhaaa!!! Our romance with tea. My Daddy and Me are big time Chaii lovers…ya…we prefer “Cheeni Kum”
Big time readers, anything, anywhere…and we start reading…
He is a master in Mathematics …man!!! Ask him any damn thing about mathematics…. algebra ,geometry, calculus, trigonometry statistics he knows everything about it…He was the only person who developed love and craze for mathematics in me.My second option was a Phd in mathematics if I hadn’t got engineering. He helped me lot for engineering mathematics too.
Both of us are fun-loving, jovial, ready to crack jokes all the time..hey! Dad u have a terrific sense of humour.
Both of us love to explore places, go for adventures and roaming freaks…hahhaha mom is always annoyed with our pre-planned-not-informed-risky-trips-to-her.
Both of us are very short-tempered. He says that I am more than him…can’t help…after all I have inherited that.
Me and my dad loves to discuss things…discuss!!! Yes that’s a different thing that later on it becomes a debate and then a WAR… when we hold different sides and then no one in the world can make me agree with him and also vice-versa…again..Property of Inheritance…
Both of us love to Grab a Tee and a jeans and floaters and roam around, clicking pictures and then later on me finding faults saying “dad u could have clicked it in a better way, from some different angel and he says no this is the best” woteva…
We both are robbers of all the techno-electronic-gizmo gadgets of each other…just 2 days back he took my latest digicam and silently placed his on my place…and I then, as a part of revenge, exchanged my silly Lenovo cell with his hahahhah….damn new Samsung….who’s at loss? Say dad?
Whatever it is, but then I am proud of my dad for he always gave me the freedom of expression, to fight for the right thing…with anyone,to grow on my own, to take my own decisions and was always supported by him.hey Dad didn’t I gave you all the freedom to argue with me????
I love when people say that I look like my dad,hehehe coz My dad resembles my Grand Maa and so I resemble her..who is my ideal…and so I love when people say that I resemble my Grand maa…
Another thing we have in common is that I love my mom the most in this world and my dad loves his mom the most in this world!!!
Still have hell many things to write about us in common and where we differ, but that’s for someother time…
Mom is screaming her lungs out to have my big cuppa tea which is made by her the third time coz it went cold n I hate drinking cold tea…she says I will throw your lappie, else come here…I know she can’t do that…my dad is sitting infront of me ,unaware of what I am typing and winking at me…saying to Mom Chill yaar…heheheheh enuf…
Ciao for now…n I salute to all the Daddy’s in the world…hey you people are great.Love to all daughters…
With lots of Lolzy Polzy Love
It had just started raining.I saw him scampering into our garden.He was wet,scared and shivering under the alcove in the shrubs.
Perhaps,he was lost or had escaped.His worn out collar with a limp,tattered black naada had another story to tell.
I lured him with a biscuit,he nervously wobbled out of his hiding,polishing it off.For me,it was love at first sight.
I went inside my house dried him with our towel for guest. I made him lie on a jute sack which was dry and that could give him a feel of warmth. I sensed from the expression in his eyes that he was terribly hungry.
I offered him a bowl of warm milk mixed with pieces of bread. I could sense hunger as he gobbled it off fast. I offered him one more bowl of warm milk with bread pieces.
The way he showed expression of gratitude in eyes was really touching my heart. I was very much happy to have a companion like him.
“He is my Woof Woof,may be, God has sent him for me.” I squealed with delight.
He was so tired that he felt asleep.
I played my favourite Adele song,promising to see him,the first thing in the morning.
And just as suddenly as he had come,he sped into the night, the unknown and beyond.
I learnt an important lesson this morning … you come alone, learn on your own … fall alone and rise alone too !!
Somewhere along the way you do meet good samaritans who help you on a rainy wet day !!
To the greatest Guru of all-” Life”