There is always a light

There is always a light
Don't be afraid if you are alone or surrounded by darkness. In some part of the world, the day has just begun. There is a always a light waiting for you to find your way to touch its radiance.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Guftagoo


By Ananya Mukherjee
Singapore


Bandhh almariyon ke peeche se do udaas ankhein taakti raheti hain; 
akelepan mein apne aap se poochti hain kai mushkil sawaal...

Ek arsa ho gaya hai tumse mulaqat hue; 
Kya itni badal gayi ho ya phir koi aur parr leta hai tumhari khamosh zubaan?
Ab zehn ke aag ko thandak ki bhi zaroorat nahin parti? 
ya phir kahin aisa to nahin ki tum bhi shaamil ho gayee ho uss bheer mein jisse kabhi tumhe darr lagta thha?
Tumhare ungliyon ke nishaan bade yaad aatein hain mujhe,
oss ke moti jaise bikre kalikh ke daag un tamam gili raaton ko dauhrane lagte hain jo humne sath lipat kar bitaye thhe..
siski ho ya sannata, haath nahin chora thha kabhi tumhara..
gusse mein bhi mujhpar hi barasti thhi, aur mohabbat ka afsaana dil jalakar mujhe hi sunati thhi..
gulab ke sukhe patton ke sath kahin mere panno mein tum aaj bhi mehekti ho
Kabhi besabab aakar mujhse milo kisi din uss bachpan ki tarah
rubaru baithho, apni sunayo, meri suno...
Ek umr ho gayee guftagoo kiye ..

Tumhari Diary





In other words....
They stare at my face from behind the dust laden cabinets
Sighing, whispering, contemplating in the silence,
The quiet eyes pose a thousand unanswered questions :
It’s been eons since I met you
Have you changed so much with the times or have you found someone who can read your unspoken unsaid words the way I would?
Or is it that no fire burns in your soul anymore, and that you have transformed as one of the many in the herd, led by instincts that you so once dreaded?
I remember the way your fingers lingered over me,
The dew drops smeared over all of me, blotted smudged ink marks all reminisce the nights when we lay woven in each other’s arms
Sniffles or silence, I never parted with you,
You showered your wrath on me, you told me a thousand heart burning tales of infatuation,
Like the dried rose petals concealed in my pages, somewhere within me your fragrance has remained
Come to me someday without inhibitions, like your childhood faith,
Sit with me and talk, tell me  about yourself, learn about me again…
It’s been ages since we spoke.