Brevity, Quill

It

It occurs and it stays,
It is in the mind and not in the brain!
You can think about it only when your mind is free,
You cannot force the thought of it
You cannot ignore the presence of it

You know what,
Sometimes its all about that it !

Brevity, Quill

Melodious pain

The medley of love,
And broken old dreams,
Still rings in my ears,
At midnight as I sleep,
And I beg of you, my baby,
To leave me and go,
For I need no more reasons,
To weep, anymore.

Brevity, Quill

Reality

Weather, stormy and dark, wind gushing through the shattered pane, swinging forth and further the mirror dinged on a mere nail. Yet, his eyes, as if in equilibrium sturdily stared through themselves, encountering numerous ostensible faces of itself. And, just then the nail flung, mirror was on morsels and each fragment (ambition, enigma, joy , anxiety) flew away. While imagination, still stuck in his feet now pigmented deep red,was trying yet to overpower him. Alas, he continued to stare, numb now to the deep and dark nail hole.
He was reality.

Poetry, Quill

ਪਤਾਨੀ ਕਿਉਂ |

ਤਾਰਿਆਂ ਵੱਲ ਵੇਖਦਾ ਤਾਂ ਤੂੰ ਆਵੇਂ ,
ਕੰਡੇ ਤੇ ਕਿਨਾਰਿਆਂ ਵੱਲ ਵੇਖਦਾ ,
ਤਾਂ ਤੂੰ ਆਵੇਂ ,ਚਾਰੇ ਪਾਸੇ ਤੂੰ ਆਵੇਂ |
ਪਰ ਕਮਲੀਏ ਤੂੰ ਤਾਂ ਮੂੰਹ ਮੋੜਕੇ ਚਲੀ ਗਈ 
ਪਤਾਨੀ ਤੂੰ ਤੇ ਤੇਰੀ ਯਾਦ ਕਿਉਂ ਨਾ ਦਿੱਲ ਤੋਂ ਨਾ ਜਾਵੇ |

ਕਈ ਸੁਪਨੇ ਬੁਣੇ ਮੈਂ ਤੇਰੇ ਨਾਲ ,
ਤੂੰ ਤਾਂ ਸਾਰੇ ਚੁਰੋ -ਚੂਰ ਕਰ ਗਈ ,
ਜਮਾ ਹੀ ਟੁੱਟੇ ਹੋਏ ਕੱਚ ਦੇ ਸਮਾਨ ਵਾਂਗਰਾਂ |

Quill, Write Ups

The Girl On The Last Bench

Today I finally observed you, sitting on the last bench, totally engrossed in ‘The Pride and Prejudice’. You were probably oblivious to the boy sitting on the bench next to you or to the girls singing on top of their voices on the first bench. And just when I thought you were to preoccupied for the world outside, you smiled at the literary remark someone in the middle row made.

We never had a conversation except the one time you were my subject for the psychology project. You were  really slow to answer my tasteless questions. And dear you were cautious too, placing each of your words perfectly one after the another. I was in awe of the way you speak. You are just like me an avid reader.

Perhaps you have learned from Elizabeth Bennet, how not to make hasty decision and how to appreciate the difference between essential and superficial. Maybe like Alaska you too have a hurricane inside you, like Atticus Finch you too delete the adjectives to have your facts strong and solid. Like Katniss you have internal conflicts but you too know, just like her, hopes live on.   

Most likely I will keep on guessing things about you and never ask you anything,

-A girl just like you

p.s. Elizabeth Bennet is the protagonist in the book Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austin), Alaska in John Green’s book Looking for Alaska, Atticus Finch of To Kill a Mockingbird, Katniss of  The Hunger Games series.

Quill, Write Ups

Dear Almost

Dear Almost,

I was ninteen when I met you. We we’re like poles: North Pole and South Pole. I was chaos, you were calm. I was afternoon you were midnight, I was blizzard and you were that soft, slow snowfall. I was tides and you were waves.

We are different, we could have been sky. As if it was us. But we were ‘You’ and ‘I’, the sky and the clouds, close yet miles apart. You had always remind me how easy it is to fall for someone. But you just never count on me realising I was nothing more than a bad habbit and that you were always going to siphon what you could not give…

Quill, Write Ups

Ahoy! Yes YOU !!!

Excuse me… Yes youYou got a minute or so, just to slow down a bit of your scrolling speed and unfold the brilliant truth before yourself.

So now, since you’re here I’ve got something special to tell you. You see other than being homo sapiens and a set of some fundamental features, we’ve all got one more thing in common. 

Some refer to it as goals, some as dreams, a few call it ambitions too and a few also refer to it as targets. But, irrespective of the fact that they range from living an american dream, or running a corporation of your own, getting the job you always aspired of till the point of mastering your paint brush strokes, producing a bestseller or simply finding the true love of your life… they vary from everywhere to everywhere.

Now, you might be wondering what is so special about it, we all know it already… don’t we? But, oh my sweet friend, what you ought to know is the major difference which separates it from being an ambition forever or dream turned into reality. So brace yourselves up for that difference is.

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Exactly… that is the very difference which separates the fabrications from reality... Not getting it? 

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This hunger you had, to know more, the mindset of not throwing the towel in before you get to the answer, putting the extra effort and being consistent in it, even as small as scrolling for ten more seconds has indeed made the difference, the difference ninety nine percent of people fail to realize. The difference which separates the great from the good, champions from winners, achievers from even the toppers and indeed learners from skimmers.     

 

Poetry, Quill

मेरा घर

यह घर मेरा एक आम सी देहलीज़ है।
जिससे मैं रोज़ मुलाकात करती हूं॥
एक पार दसतूर और गुलामी है।
तो दूसरी पार मैं हूं और मेरी बातें॥

एक पार है जहाँ आईने में दिखती सूरत अपनी सी नहीं लगती।
एक पार है जहाँ हर ख़ुशी, हर परवाह में सिर्फ मेरा ही ज़िक्र है॥
दीवारों पे जैसे पुराने और मासूम किस्से
लिखें हैं जिसमें सिर्फ मेरा है ज़िक्र हैं॥

एक पार है, जहाँ प्यार की कोई कदर नहीं।
दूसरी पार है जहाँ प्यार भी है और कोई कदर नहीं॥

यह घर मेरा है दो जज़्बातों के बीच की देहलीज़,
जिससे मैं रोज़ मुलाकात करती हूं॥