tum oxygen meri life kee
mein carbon monoxide zindagi ka tumhari

tum rakhti ho zinda mujhey
meri har sans har pal tumhey maarey

tumney dekha mujhey pyar se, mainey
na janney kyun itney pal spite mein gujarey

tumney har sukh, har khushi merey saath banti
mein khushi kee talash mein firta raha maarey maarey

jab tum saath thee, ek tadap, ek tanhaye thee
tum paas aati rahee, mein paas baithaa nahi tumharey

ab jab tum chalee gayee ho
merey pal kattey hein tumhari yaad mein saarey

ab bhi waisey hee bhatakta hoon, khushi kee talash mein
lekin ab jaanta hoon, mainey khud gawayein hein wo pal pyarey

haan, mainey kaha thaa, chalee jao
kyun chalee gayee tum, mujhey apney anchal mein bina utarey

ab dundhta hoon tumhari nazar, har pathhar, har pattey mein
sochta hun, kahan, kaisey rahoon, kiskey saharey.

hum teen
ek mein, ek tum, aur ek woh

woh
jo chupke se ayee
aur baith gayee

na tumhey pata chala
na mujhey

woh
jo saanso mein samayee
aur bus gayee

aadat tumhari huyee
aadat meri bhi

chaltey chaltey
thaam liya usney haath
ek tumhara, ek mera

ban gaye sahara yoon
hum teeno, ek doosrey ka

hum sahara uska
wo sahara
hamara huyee

my true self
discouraged
abhored and detested
you created it
you gave it form
you left it too
disformed
to dry in the sun
and now you hate it
avoid it
avert your eyes
wish i’d cover it
a kapda
a light scarf
so you will not see
what you hate
which is me
what you created.

i write thus
this tired pen betwixt my fingers
rusted phalanges
aching to move
ache when moved
the thumb can’t quiet recollect
forward pressure manipulation
the middle fingers feels
too much of a thrust
the long sharp nails dig
crescents into my skin
they’re grown so long
lack of use, disuse
and so i move the hand
all fingers and pen in position
try to bring back the practice
an exercise
once so dear to my heart
my once pride and joy
put a nib on the paper
and scribble on and on and on…

~ i did write this one with a pen. :)

do you think dreams matter. i’ve seen people doing what’s expected of them all their lives. they grow up, being nice kids, as expected. they get married ‘decently’, as expected. have kids, raise them, and then quietly retire when old enough. i’ve noticed levels of contentment much higher in such individuals. talking of content. cyra, me, and s had gone to the beach this saturday evening. we all love the sea. so after dinner, around 10:30 before heading home we thought we’d take one last look at the waves. high-tide was in. the water was splashing in with roars. for a second i thought that cyra might get scared, but she just ran towards the dark waters. i was the one that got scared. it was hard to stop her. we all looked for some sitting space on the rocks and jammed our bums there. it was beautiful. the sound of the waves and the dark, black horizon were beautiful. s told yoga on the fone that at that moment she felt content. and he said that if you start writing now, you’ll be a content writer. dats patented yoga lines.

talking of content. i, sometimes (rarely) feel that dreams just take you away from achieving that blissful state of being at peace with oneself. there’s this family i’d met once, somewhere in the himalayas. mom, dad, and 2 grown-up sons. they were all so happy. living in that little place. now they’ve all been exposed to the outside world, city life, technology et al. the mom’s originally from bombay. but they all love living away from it all. all their days start alike and end alike. same old, yummy paneer paranthas and white butter for breakfast. i ate like a pig there. it was really nice staying there with them. or maybe just cos i stayed there for a limited number of days hence the quaintness seemed sweet. but i like the thought of a life like that. away from the noise. where cyra can hear the birds sing and the crickets go trrrrrr. where we’ll be able to hear deep silence.

inspiration
dats wat i see
in this lusty piece
a compository glee

in the sun
warm glow
sucking juicy ganney
a smile
a wink
says, aaja mharey kanney

In the jungle
Wild hounds.
In the quiet
Animal sounds!
In the stillness
Passions surround.

Hey, listen!
Cut to the chase -
Stop fooling around.
In this world
Of fake love
Only
True lust abounds.

© Jaggu and Piti

a whore, a slut
is what often juts
from people’s mind and mouth
when they cannot do without
being the ultimate judge
in their heads they smudge
a person’s entire characterization
according to their exact summation
i am now depraved
cos in public i shaved
my being of its belongings
out loud with my longings
i dared to unhook
and in my hands when i took
my passion my desire
my all consuming fire
inflamed their ire
they said,
consequences are dire
i’m shut, i’m caged
i’ll never be paged
but there’s something they forgot
in denial they are caught
its them who are deprived
cos they are inside
shut in their ’safe’ houses
they still eye the blouses
covering the bosoms they deem pure
that act so demure
they feel nice around that
when one eyelid she lets bat
lost creatures in thier cosy homes
preaching freedom under concrete domes
look at your feet
cos they are leaded
to eternal pain
you are wedded.

… don’t like this conclusion. i’ll change it soon.

de rider was a muffin
who was huffin and puffin
with miss muffet on his horse
the seat was so coarse
little missy was all waxed
hence her legs were duly taxed
but muffin wouldn’t listen
he went on with the kissen
eyes closed with content
this he sure would repent
as along a carriage came
no mister and no dame
it was just a jolly steed
coming on full speed
let me put my pen to rest
what happened then,
is no jest

muffet and muffin
no more huffin n puffin
the horses galloped away
leaving the two to stay
in the woods o crap
muffin got a resounding slap
at last like he should’ve
muffet eventually would’ve
she stomped on him mightily
and gave him a mighty kick
as of now muffin’s groaning somwhere
nursing his cursed ****

cos that was the sole reason
in spring and the autumn season
he swooped little missys away
every friday, every saturday
but now every time it hurts
spontaneously he blurts
forgive me dear muff
i truly am not tough
respect i forgot
also to love and to care
but i promise that now
i will cherish and share

can’t understand wimmen is what you say
have you ever thought come what may
we’re all people you and me
you may like coffee, i prefer tea
we all get hurt
we all feel joy
when in party, we all shout ahoy
respect each other
and our own selves too
will make us all happier
to rhyme i use here boo.

decisions. choices.
you make them, they break you.
free will. open roads.
you take them. they shake you.
everytime you think.
you are home, you are happy.
the walls disappear, it starts to rain.
everytime you smile, feeling the sun on your face.
the clouds appear all pain no gain.

keep walking keep running
don’t sit don’t rest
there is no haven, under this airy roof
this airy roof is all that you have
so lie down if you want to
sleep for a while
and then get up, stand up
you’ve got to keep walking,
keep “goin on”, keep running.

A decade gone, decadent it seems.
A decade starts, brimming with hope.
In that decadence, I shall sow the seeds.
Of a life that I dream to live.