Dance, Shall We.

The party was surely on. Some with clearer objectives / motives, were through with their dinner, while some had preferred drinks. The set up was a traditional small town one. A spacious banquet hall was the venue for the occasion. The music was in place. The gentry was turned out at its best. And what everyone was waiting for, The Dance, was on.

Some were flaunting their latest moves, some were pretty happy with their traditional but limited maneuvers. Everyone was alight. The venue was populated with smart boys and beautiful girls. The smartness and beauty, were enhanced or may be augmented, for sure.

It often happens, during a dance stunt, the Circle-Concept. Sooner or later you, in the midst of your own dance, will find yourself a part of the circle. Its like a monster, it grows and it won't be satisfied until it ropes in everyone, every single one on the floor. Now, if you resist, you will be re-approached until you submit to it.

So as it was, the dance was on, in circles, of course. The flashes of some antique-performers was up an bright. I, as expected, was right at the edge of the monster circle, and she was right at the center, for obvious reasons. It was like epi-center thing. And if everyone's eye and to what it was seeing, were joined to be a straight line. All such lines were to be converging at Her.

So, there was a time, my line converged at the epi-center as well. And she, then, faced me, raised her fist to her face, took out out the index finger and beckoned me. Offensive it was, that's the first thing came to mind and so I stared, conveying how I felt. And she, then smiled unapologetically. I, then started my walk towards her, making my way through the crowded circle. And as I stood in front of her, yet again, she smiled, and said, "So, you know how to dance". I said, "Well, lets see". Contrary to the mood and probably to her expectation as well, I just held her palm and placed the other one on her waist. I precisely don't know how long it lasted, but as it ended...the music was still loud, but everyone was almost still, the circle too was in place, perfectly in shape, and in the center, it was just two of us. "Thanks for the dance", I uttered, and made my way back to the edge of the circle.

तितलियाँ

हरे गलीचों की गोद में,
हरी छन्नी जैसे आकाश तले,
उन सुनहरी किरणों की बारिश में,
कुछ नवजात ख्वाब पले.

ख्यालों की आंच में,
सेके वोह कुछ ख्वाब,
सिन्दूरी अंगारों सी,
चाहत की तपिश में,
खूब पके वो ख्वाब.

इस नरम-गरम व्यवस्था से,
फिर उड़ चले वो ख्वाब,
बन के तितली, बन के बिजली,
बन बैठे फ़िज़ाओं के वो नवाब.

रन-बिरंगी तितलियों जैसी,
टेढ़ी-मेढ़ी उनकी उड़ान,
हवाओं में तैरती जैसे,
मौसम की मुस्कान,
हम न पहुंचे जिस किसी,
पहुंचे वो हर उस मक़ाम.

तितली बना खुद को उड़ाते,
जो न कर पाते,
वोह सब हम उनसे करवाते,
विडम्बना से पूर्ण,
एक अनोखी दास्तान...!

फिर से...!

हल्की सी लगती है..
हल्के से चलती है..
हल्के रंग की सलवार..
हल्के रंग के कमीज़..
और आँचल कुछ झीना सा.

धूप की सहेली वो..
धूप सा ही रंग..
करती सबको दंग.

आँखों में काजल..
काजल में रात..
रात में चाँद..
और रात में ही तारे..
जो चुपते और दिखते उन दो पलकों के सहारे..
रह-रह कर उठती यही दुआ..
शायद ही किसी ने हो उसको छुआ.

श्रृंगार करे कम जिसको..
हवा उठा कर चलती जिसको..
सीधी-सीधी लटें कुछ ऐसे गिरती उन आँखों पर..
की वोह कब देखे और कब करे नज़रंदाज़..
लगता नहीं बिलकुल भी अंदाज़..
हल्के झटके से ज़ुल्फ़ों को सीधा करना..
भी क्या खूब सीखा था उसने..

ऐसा न कभी सुना..
और न कभी देखा..
और जब देखा..
तो और देखने की चाह भी नहीं रही.

लहराते दुपट्टे को कलाई पर लिपटा देख..
बस अलग सा ही ख्याल आता था..i
वो आपस में बातें करती उंगलियाँ..
जाने किससे और क्या कहती.

शायद मेरी नींदों का एक खूबसूरत बहाना थी.

Unsaid.

Some are spoken, spoken aloud,
Some are not.....But they are,
They remain..somewhere..latent.

These are not those words,
which come out 'naturally'.
They are like strong gush of water,
forcing away through the glass,
on a dark stormy night.
which flickers, it shivers, like a snake on glass.
It might, just as well speak, but not to be heard.

These words do not comprise of large and categorized
sweeping generalizations and observations ,
but of those little things which push hard,
to get through those split ribs,
with the desire to be expressed.

These words lie buried in fissures of the key hole, when one can't get that thing going,
They come with the smile on one's face when thinking of an ugly, coarse thought,
They are found on the little scribblings, in class, during a lecture,
They are found in those sigh of reliefs, when reached office on time,
They are the same when one doesn't reaches office on time,
They are ones's company in snarling traffic,

They are the words, at times,
When all one wants to say is those words,
And all you say, is but them,
They live through you,
But die on our lips,
They are those silent explosions,
They surface when one blinks and winks,
They are those unpleasant curses,
They are those silent prayers,
They are the moments of grief,
They are the bright flashes,
They are the dark skies.

They are just those little things,
They ensure that there is light in our own skies.

Kuch Kuch Hota Hai.

Sometimes I wonder, why I always try to assign or align an event with an event.

As a young boy, in junior-middle class, obviously, it would have been nice to wear a wrist-watch, but I don't know why I made an agreement with my self, that I would ask for it, when I would clear my class tenth, and honestly, I had no qualms about that agreement. It was as close, as if I deserved to wear a watch, if only I did well in my results. Now I am glad I did well, else it would have been my cell phone, helping me out with time tracking.....but what if were not able to "earn" that either...!

How good or justified it is, as a logic, I have no clue.
Am I to find the reason in my upbringing, family, culture, nationality, ethics, I have no interest either.

So, by the same line of thought, Anubhav and I had decided, post our last exam we would go for a movie, more importantly, my first ever movie outing with a friend.
It was 1999...and yes we were struck heavily by the SRK syndrome, most part of my generation is,may be was, then.

So it was KKHH, both of us, on his cycle, in our school uniform, minus the tie...it was close to formals, to think of it today, went through with the show. Post show, it was all praises and discussions, right from the specific frames, general acting, the " 7 letter letter" angle, the entry, the twists, " that " look, little khalsa, " toota-tara " , friend-ship bands, anjali's we analyzed everything, and of course,the most famous..... " you won't understand " .

Now all this till we got on the bicycle. Then on, when it started "rolling" and I could feeling the wind in my face and through my hair, with the sun, yet to show up, it wasn't long before I started with the songs, and Anubhav often joining me in between, where all he could catch up with the lyrics, and as an effect the bike was like meandering along the road, and that was more fun, only till it took a sharp turn and I had to choose between my elbow and face to get scraped by the road, and I guess I made the right choice to bring me back to the real world.

But it wasn't that bad, the movie-effect was potent enough to see me through the accident and the pain. The movie hangover outlived the pain, for sure. Today when I hum those songs, it all comes back...the same old way....plus a smile.