ChirpyQuill

 यह बारिश और तुम बहुत जलती होगी तेरी घनी ज़ुल्फ़ों से ,  जो आसमान में घटाएं उमड़ आती हैं,  तेरी मुस्कराहट का कोई जादू ही होगा,  जिसे देखने को बूँदें बरस जाती हैं,  तुम्हे अपनी गीली ज़ुल्फ़ें झटकते हुए देख लिया होगा,  सब्ज़ हो जाती है बहार और हर मंज़र धुल सा जाता है,  तुम्हें छूने को कितना तरसता होगा इस मौसम में,  जो चाय कुल्हड़ भी तुम्हारे हाथों में इतराता है,  तुम्हारी आवाज़ की सरगम ही होगी यह,  जिसे सुंनने को हर पत्ता बूंदों के साथ मल्हार गता है,  सोचो कितनी चाहत होगी इस बारिश को तेरे दीदार की ,  वरना  कौन आसमान से उतर के ज़मीन पे  मिलने आता  है 

You always arrive where you are meant to be, not where you intended to go. And so, I found myself unexpectedly in Mumbai, pacing up and down the staircase outside the ICU where my mother was admitted. It was a traumatizing sight that afternoon; I had met her for the first time since her brain surgery, her beautiful soft hair, her crowning glory, had been shaved off. She had a row of staples running down her beautiful bald head from the center all the way to the back and left, marking the spot where the neurosurgeon had exposed her brain to remove the clot that was threatening to send her into a coma. Her face lit up brightly as she saw me walk into the ICU. A slight grimace as she struggled to recognize me and then magically that thousand-watt smile when she remembered it was me! It took a superhuman effort to push back the tempest of tears threatening to betray my composure as I walked up to her, held her hand, and told her that she looked absolutely perfect as she did every day.

 बहता हुआ पानी   बहते हुए पानी सा है यह समां,  ना थमता है ना रुकता है यह कहीं  कई लम्हे डूबे हुए रहते हैं इसमें,  अभी अभी होते हैं यहाँ तो अभी कहीं नहीं,  कभी शोर-ओ-गुल है ज़िन्दगी का तो हैं कभी तन्हाईयाँ,  कभी साथ होता है कोई तो कभी रह जाती हैं परछाइयां,  कभी चमकता हुआ कोई दिन होता है, होती हैं कितनी बातें  और कभी चुप सी तनहा गुज़रती हैं कितनी रातें कभी खंडर से दिखते हैं घर जो थे कभी आबाद,  कभी हम बनते हैं यादें तो कभी सताती है किसी की याद,  कभी हाथ डालो इस पानी में तो मिलता है सोना खरा ,  और कभी अधूरी ख्वाहिशों से दिल रहता है भरा,  कभी होता है सब पास हमारे और कभी खाली से हाथों में कुछ नहीं  बहते हुए पानी सा यह समां, ना रुकता है ना थमता है कहीं

  It’s a day people say Yeah, I’m so happy finally it’s a Sunday It’s a day kids say mom today I’ll go out and play The husband says today I’ll rest and relax And maybe later if I feel like, I’ll exercise and work on building my six pack I’ll also binge watch that Netflix show That I started not so long ago  Today’s I’ll call my college buddies Just to say hello But the lady of the house, she’s wise she knows Just how her every Sunday goes She cooks she cleans like any other day In addition to making special dishes her family says Nothing changes for her and her routine Except deciding if today she’s cooking beans or greens  And there’s piles of laundry to tackle in between So while her family rests and relaxes on weekends For her the routine never ends                                                            ………..Leena

  You've been lonely, I feel for you dear friend, I hear you, It's been a while, Where have you been, I missed you too, Break the silence, let's hear the words; let's have a talk, The woods are lush, hold my hand, let's go for a walk. Let's sit by the river, that bench waited for us too long,  Sun's shining, do you hear the waves; is your coffee too strong ? I know, the colors were missing; It's been grey for long,  Look, autumn's here, it's riot of colours; this is where we belong. Lie down with me, say nothing, hear the song of that thrush ? Listen to the wind rustling the leaves, the symphony of nature's hush, Let your feet touch the grass, let the dew heal those searing scars, Look up, there's a smiley on the clouds; oh, did you see those shooting stars? Snow is falling, it's cold; come inside, let's kindle that fire, Lean on me, tell me all your stories, your every desire, Pull a rug, let me put you to sleep; I’ll sing you a

Since your’s is the only smell that is indelibely etched on my memory, imagine if it wasn’t a pretty one. How traumatized I would have been. And nobody would have known too. What’s up with this kid, why is he scrunching his nose nose all the time? No answer. And it would all have been your fault, that you didn’t talcum yourself enough, or just ate too much masala. May be I would have ended up liking whatever you smelled like Ma. That is very likely too, but that would have been a travesty of a different kind though. Why does this kid never take a rinse? No answer. 😳!!  But you saved me all this trouble, by smelling “so nice” all the time. So thank you. Being the only girl child of doting parents, among five brothers, clearly you weren’t raised to cook food for 4 large hungry men in a household of limited means. But you valiantly fought and cooked day in and day out, nevertheless. And we didn’t help either. Neither by letting you know what we wanted to eat that evening, nor by stopping

  Universe is chaos. Ultimate, unbridled, unhinged chaos. Galaxies chewing each other out, Blackholes swallowing Star Systems and other Galaxies in entirety, leaving them in eternal state of suspended animation at the point of Singularity. Large Stars collapsing unto themselves and exploding into spectacular Supernova deaths. Meteors raining death and destruction on planets. Here on Earth,    predatory birds, animals, fish hunting down and eating other animals even while they are alive. Snatching them from their environmnet and asphixiating the life out of them. Even predatory plant species choking out others, at scale. Inside Earth’s core, angry molten lava swirling, seeking any weakness in the Earth’s crust to burst out via Volcanoes, raining furious death and destruction. Then there are Storms, Earthquakes and other natural disaster happening regularly. There is utter chaos. It is a perpetual never ceasing Tandav, a violent dance of death and destruction unleashed on beings and non

 "What, if he were some gun-toting criminal?"  During our most recent trip, as we drove past an isolated stretch of  the freeway in the Midwest my husband noticed a figure walking along the roadside. The thought that it could be a lost teenager stranded without a cell service or phone charge was very unsettling. Or Could it be someone lost, perhaps intoxicated.. ... Whatever be their circumstances another living person was walking alone in the pitch darkness of the night.At that moment, instinct overtook caution and we turned back to confirm that it was an illusion and if indeed there was someone..Our intention was simply to confirm, and at no point were we going to stop. But to our utter disbelief, we did encounter a tall man in a denim jacket walking alone on the freeway. Instinct again overtook caution and we stopped the car!! Though clearly startled by our unexpected stop, the man appeared composed. Nervously, I smiled, while my husband inquired if he needed any help. Wit

  So, If Universe is the answer, what is the question ? How on this earth (pun intended) would I know?! Let's digress a bit. Year 1924 - George Mallory and Andrew Irving were trying to summit Mt. Everest and reporters were bugging George with questions like "Why Mount Everest?" George, who was, as irritated as he was obsessed with Everest, gave an answer which became a legend of sort. He said, "Because it's there" Now That's a very apt answer and Everest doesn't care if it exists as an answer to somebody's questions. It simply exists because two tectonic plates collided. Yet, some are drawn to it because somebody is trying to find themselves while climbing it, somebody wants to leave a legacy , somebody has spiritual pull towards it and somebody is just an adrenal junkie.  Let's go a little higher from Everest... ok, a lot higher.. in the universe now. Universe is the answer to only one question - What happened after big bang ? Massive energy

My daughter has been traveling with her school band this week and I have encountered a new feeling inside me. This is not the first time she has been away from home and a prompt from our writing blog made me think through this free style of writing.  If waiting and wanting is what I crave, what's the inquiry? Is it the pursuit of fulfillment, the drive of desire guiding me in my journey as a mother? Or perhaps it's the yearning for meaning, the longing to be present and purposeful amidst life's chaotic routine. When we feel anticipation and longing, do we not confront the mystery of our ambitions, questioning the true nature of our goals and the paths we choose? If experiencing both joy and tears simultaneously is the response, what's the inquiry? Is it the search for happiness, the endeavor to discover moments of joy amidst life's challenges? Or is it the exploration of the meaning of human emotion, the journey through sorrow and ecstasy that defines our collecti