gypsy in the rain


in quest of truth…
September 6, 2010, 8:56 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

miles and miles….
in search of truth…
an eternal soul wandering in quest of tiny moments…

and I wonder if the journey remains blank…
I need to walk down the road real long…

to gather all pieces…



castles of sand…
September 2, 2010, 2:43 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags:

in my childhood… sand was something foreign for me…

I used to love sitting on those tiny hills of sand with “Guddi”, at random construction sites in my neighborhood…

I remember collecting shells… especially closed ones were my favorites… I always thought that they carried some secret message for me….To see if they really have something, I used to open them one by one… While I kept some of them unopened… leaving them undisturbed…

I carried them home in my frock…

And now I don’t remember where I kept my treasure…

I often think that kids dont have a memory… what they have are dreams…

Details did not exist for me either…

So if you find them scattered somewhere… please bring them back to me…

A little girl is still playing inside them…



a piece of paper….
August 27, 2010, 9:18 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

a paper…
call it a page…
from a diary…
would say a lot to you…
stories it has witnessed…
and stories it has missed…
reflecting whatever it faces…
like a mirror…

a page is a poem sometimes…
a story, a talk with self…
or sometimes just a contract…

a page, itself is an epic of love…
it just knows how to love what it has…
and hence stays forever with the page next to it…



conscience
August 3, 2010, 4:37 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

आँखें मूँद लेती हूँ, सोचती हूँ सूरज छुपा लुंगी

जब रात होती है, तो यही उजाला सोने नहीं देता



let’s write a story together…
July 28, 2010, 6:17 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

Let’s write a story together…

You and I

You draw pictures…

And I’ll write poems

I know,

You are bad with words

And I can’t sketch…

so many days passed…

I am tired of writing…

And numb with words

You unable to comprehend them…

I still want you to write for me…

Your lines are losing shape…

And now you want me to draw your thoughts….

I touch your hand

And learn to draw…

You touch my heart…

And learn to rhyme…

And we learn a new language…

TOUCH…

though the story looks beautiful and deep…

not many would understand it…

let’s not fool others…

it’s a story to be read…

only by you and me….

Let’s not stop here…

Because this story doesn’t have an end…

We should keep writing…



Waiting for you…
July 23, 2010, 10:11 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized


my soul can cross thousand rivers… just to hold your hand in mine…
it can carry this body over long spread desserts… to feel the joy of your smile…
neither you nor your sign was there when I came looking for you…
and I then, wrote your name on every place, every mile…

so that… when you’ll visit that place next time…
you’ll find yourself everywhere… alone in the crowd…



Brothers’ arm-y….
July 22, 2010, 7:29 pm
Filed under: Uncategorized

There was a time… when we could not stand each other’s faces. There was a time when we used to fight for the best food, best clothes, more pocket money. There was a time when we hated to share our things with each other…. I think, there never was a time when we fought. It was always me… (:P). I always wanted best things… and when I used to get my large share of ice cream, chocolate or pocket money; my satisfied ego would allow me to GIVE some of it to my little brother.

What are brothers for??? Now, please don’t say that they are there to protect you because all my brothers with whom I am very close… are younger to me…. Yet, yes, they do protect me in every possible way (eyes getting moist here…).

Before I start getting too senti, let me rearrange my feelings…

I never had a sister but a brother, with whom I could share my feelings. In a way, it was better because I got to see a different perspective of life…. Gender wise…

Me and my brother.

I was, I still am the most loved sister amongst all my 12 brothers. Till I was 4, my cousin brother used to treat me like his own baby. Yes, the huge age difference. First time, at the age of 5, when I came to know that I got a baby brother, I was excited to see him, to meet him… to touch him.. to know what a brother looks like. My father took me to the maternity home…. Only thing I remember about that room is me standing next to a crib, my father next to me… instructing how to touch and not to touch him… We were happy and a cute face smiling at us with his blinking eyes. I still cherish that moment with many others.

I don’t know if the discrimination between a boy and girl still exists. But when I was young, at my innocent age, I always sensed and felt strange to be born as a girl. But luckily on personal level, my family never treated me and my brother differently. In fact, the saying is true… moms love their sons more and fathers love their daughters. With the sting of being born as a female, I always wanted to be superior to my little brother. And I bullied him on occasions, made him plead me, made him say sorry to me… I did everything a mean sister would do (Adi still calls me Dee Dee from Dexter’s lab, how much I hated that cartoon… my brother had literally assumed that he was a brainy scientist). My sweet brother always was too scared to call me by my name… I haven’t heard my name from his mouth since 20 years. Last time he had called me by my name was to tease me… and he knew… that’s the way he could disrespect me… and he got that right… he got a beating for that… Not everyone is as blessed as me… are they??? Because Adi would come back to me saying sorry, asking me to slap him so that we could talk again after our fights. And I would feel (emotionally blackmailed) bad and I would just smile. They know you in and out. Brothers,… they know what pleases you, what makes you angry, what makes you scared (horror nights on Thursday, dark and cockroaches), what makes you sorry.

Today, when we can’t meet each other for months… when we don’t share a room, I realize his strength, patience and tolerance. He was the one who lied when needed, just to save me from scoldings. He was the one who cried when I did not talk to him. He was the one who brought snacks for me while coming from school / college. He was the one who helped me in the kitchen. He was the one sharing his secret crush from his first standard class. He was the one who asked me for dating tips… and he is the one who gives me tips on life.

My brothers… sense every shit out of me… from my face, from my smile, my voice, my texts…

I know, I am little over in the drama department. But they love me as I am.

And this is for my brothers and all other brothers, who share everything with their sister from food to secrets, from failures to aims, from tears to smiles… from fights to hugs…

Brothers, you have grown wiser than me… and now I am your little sister…

And when you need me, you know, I am old enough to hold your hand…

LOVE