Pesh hai tashreef ka tashreef-nama !

Chhid gaya ek discussion...yaaro dosto mein....
Yaar bata ye tashreef aakir hoti kya cheez hain..

Ab naa to in mein koi shaayar tha,
naa hi koi philosopher..
to phir tashreef ko halaal to hona hi tha :):P

Kisi ne kaha...doston....dekho logically socho..
hum kehte hai... tashreef rakhiye...
To hamara mehmaan...sofe par 'tashreef' rakhta hai....
bas to phir yaar....meri tashreef, uska 'ass' :P

Doosra bola...to bhai ek baat bata.....
Jab humne apne saale se kaha tha...ki saale-saahab tashreef laeeye..
Woh 'saala' sirf apni 'tashreef' ko kyon nahi chhod gaya...
apna bada mooh aur kali se soorat bhi le aaya :@:P

Teesra dost bola... ab miya jaisa karoge vaisa hi to bharoge..
Kisi mohatarama se kehte ki -- aaeeye...
hamari gareeb khane mein tashreef laeeye..
To woh apni kale kajrare nayan, makhmali si aawaaz, [aha! - baki dost]
lachakti huyi kamar aur khanakti huyi payal
ko bhi tashreef ke saath le aati.....

Sab doston ki aankhein chamak uthi..
Aur tayy hua...ki tashreef mein jo bhi aaye...
bas kisi sundar bala se hi bola jaaye!
ki aaeeye... tashreef laeeye...!
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Jagruti

The Price of Being Sane

Being sane, being in control I am..
slowly, surely;
learning the ways of the world
finally.

being sane, being in control I am..

no longer do I feel intense grief.....
no longer am I insanely elated....
no ups and downs....no mood swings...
all there is left is predictability!

But
where is the creativity - that weaved my
erratic thoughts into intrinsic patterns !
where is the emotional net - that flung itself
far and wide and brought me pearls of wisdom!

In the nights, when the guards are down,
my mind keeps searching...and searching.....

For the rabbit-hole to my alice in wonderland.....
And just when I find it and jump down...

The bottom opens out to reality and boredom!

Remove this burden, set me free..
I dont want to be sane.....
I just want to be me!
I dont want to be sane...
I want to be me!
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Jagruti

I am scared to have you dear

The 2 recent events that came to light of fathers raping their daughters for years on end prompted the below.
I am scared to have u dear
I am scared not for myself but for u,
U are vulnerable and innocent, susceptible and weak.

No longer do I gotta protect u only from strangers.
I have to protect you from my brothers, uncles, maybe, even from my father and husband.
No longer do I gotta hold your hand only in the supermarkets,
I have to hold it even more tighter in your own house, the cellar, the backyard.

No longer can I trust the man who wooed me, no longer can I trust the man who loved me.
His smile may be fake, his demeanor a façade, a monster of a man he very likely might be.
He might have loved me even though I was a stranger,
He might still very well hate u, who, is his own flesh and blood.
I am scared to have u dear
I am scared not for myself but for u,
U are vulnerable and innocent, susceptible and weak.

I want to show u the spring and the flowers, I want u to be as carefree as the wind.
But most of all, I want u to be loved by the man who calls himself your father.

I hope, I pray with all my heart that these simple wishes come true.
I hope that u never have to see the face of indifference or sorrow or cruelty.
And yet, yet, I am still scared to have u dear..

Remembrances !

Choosing to sit alone, I ventured to caress the feelings of our meet...

The looks exchanged, the feelings spoken, the words felt, the touch of the senses..
The anticipation of whats-to-come and the pleasure of what-it-been.
Slipping through my fingers like water.... leaving just a hint of wetness that had been...
Cling to it, as desperately as I must... the heat of the wind wrungs me dry :(
Its there and yet not quite there...

Like the moon hiding behind a veil of clouds... A faint glimmer, a faint outline,
The nites spent yearning for the brightness to a-wash my soul..
So near and yet so far.. So near and yet so far...

I have remembered and felt you -- of the occasions and times so trivial ...
Etched as they are ...in my senses and my memories..
I can pluck them like a lily from a valley of flowers, the color I choose, the bloom I wish..
I can transcend to that very moment...between the felt sensation and the spoken word...

Where is it lost now....why cant I grasp it now....
Why is the moment that has been so-long-in-waiting passed by in a flash!
Receding so fast, I can barely see its light..

Is it a play of the heart..... the scared and the fragile heart ?!
So afraid of the hurt...that its shied away from the anticipation of joy.... !
Is it the play of the mind....imprisoned in its probabilities..
So negative is the balance.....that this small positive has been discarded ... !

Or is it the voice of a much higher mind... to dwell not, on what is to be lost ?!
OR
to dwell not, on what is just one of the infinite moments of joy rushing my way ?!