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People write diaries. Their diaries describe their personality. I write on my blog. It describes me way too well. :D
My writing takes me places my mind never wanted to go
Everyone writes. From the ink of their thoughts, by the pen of their mind on the page of their face. Everyone writes.I love to write. It is a passion; a compulsion; something that gives me an avenue to express myself. I write when I am happy; when I am sad or when an issue touches my heart. I find inspiration to write in every aspect of life.
This blog is dedicated to anything and everything that fills my thoughts and occupies cranial space

Friday, July 13, 2018

To my bestie

To the friend I thought I'll never lose,

Hey there, I hope you are doing great. It's been a long time since we stopped talking. I know that we talk now on birthdays and special occasions, but that's not the kind of talk best friends have. I know day before yesterday when you called, I was rude with you, or very rude may be. Believe me, after disconnecting the call I also felt very bad, may be little more then what you felt. But this time, I had no other option. You just can't call anyone on his special day and tell him that it is the most awaited day of the year for you and then not even a single message whole day. I know your priorities has changed and I am probably not even the last name in that long list, but I was at the top of the same list sometime ago. You just can't throw anyone from the top of the list to just outside of it. I know now you are thinking that if I expected all this from you, I should have told you earlier. Believe me, this time I didn't expect anything from you, not even you saying that it is the most awaited day of the year.

I just want to call you and tell you how much I'm missing you, but I won't. I know things are not same, we are not same. I know where and why it started in the first place, and it sure hurts a lot to see us like this.

Remember the times we used to discuss the most stupid things and that's the time I realised what real "peace" is and gave you the place which people call as "bestie".

Remember all the crazy things we used to do together, me accidentally pulling your hairs, you accidentally hurting me. We had our own time, made a lot of people jealous and I loved it.

I love the time spent with you. You taught me a lot of things, you taught me the meaning of words like expectations, truth and possessiveness. Yes, you were a good support and I hope I was too. You edified me from an immature, careless boy to a grown-up, self-caring person. But nothing stays forever, neither did we.

People often say breakup hurts, let me tell you breakup between "besties" hurt more and yes, it's real. What caused this? My insecurities or you caring less or not at all? My complaints or your ignorance? Expecting a call from you that you reached home safe or not even expecting a call back from you whole day? You not knowing how to properly balance things or me expecting a lot from my "bestie".

From being more then my best friend to someone I barely talk to, You made it. Congratulations. I still have a lot of things, good and bad to share with you. But I am afraid to even call you now. I am afraid that you will again laugh at my problems. I am afraid that I have to take an appointment just to make a call to you, because your priorities can't wait.

Best friends also need care, love, understanding and most importantly importance no less than your partner. So many shoulders to cry on yet you'll always turn to your best friend.

Anyways, I hope you always get what you wish for.

Sincerely yours,
Old friend

Saturday, June 30, 2018

तुम‌ और मेरी कविता

तुम कविता नहीं थी
तो मैं भी‌ कौन सा कवि था?
तुम कोई लहर नहीं थी
तो मैं भी कोई सागर नहीं था।
तुम कोई नीर नहीं थी
तो मैं भी कहाँ प्यासा था?
तुम कोई रंग नहीं थी
तो मैं कोई रंगरेज़ कहाँ?
तुम बस इक स्वप्न-सी,
तुम बस इक नज़्म-सी,
तुम बस इक सुर-सी,
तुम बस थी कोई हवा सूखी-सी,
तुम तो बस थी इक नमी-सी,
इक ख़ामोश इरादों-सी,
इक घिरते घनश्याम-सी,
इक महकती रातरानी-सी,
बस थी इक कहानी-सी।
आज तुम हो बस किताबों में,
तुम हो बस चन्द नमाज़ों में,
इक शोर-सी थी तुम,
मन का चोर-सी थी तुम।
मैं आज भी‌ तुम्हें सुलझाता हूँ।
थी इक पहेली-सी तुम,
कुछ छोड़ गयी हो मुझमें
जो तुम्हें हर ज़िक्र में छेड़ देता हूँ।
फिर भी मैं ये कहता हूँ,
"तुम कौन सी मेरी कविता थी?"