जो बीत गई सो बात गई

जीवन में एक सितारा था
माना वह बेहद प्यारा था
वह डूब गया तो डूब गया
अंबर के आंगन को देखो
कितने इसके तारे टूटे
कितने इसके प्यारे छूटे
जो छूट गए फ़िर कहाँ मिले
पर बोलो टूटे तारों पर
कब अंबर शोक मनाता है
जो बीत गई सो बात गई

जीवन में वह था एक कुसुम
थे उस पर नित्य निछावर तुम
वह सूख गया तो सूख गया
मधुबन की छाती को देखो
सूखी कितनी इसकी कलियाँ
मुरझाईं कितनी वल्लरियाँ
जो मुरझाईं फ़िर कहाँ खिलीं
पर बोलो सूखे फूलों पर
कब मधुबन शोर मचाता है
जो बीत गई सो बात गई

जीवन में मधु का प्याला था
तुमने तन मन दे डाला था
वह टूट गया तो टूट गया
मदिरालय का आंगन देखो
कितने प्याले हिल जाते हैं
गिर मिट्टी में मिल जाते हैं
जो गिरते हैं कब उठते हैं
पर बोलो टूटे प्यालों पर
कब मदिरालय पछताता है
जो बीत गई सो बात गई


मृदु मिट्टी के बने हुए हैं
मधु घट फूटा ही करते हैं
लघु जीवन ले कर आए हैं
प्याले टूटा ही करते हैं
फ़िर भी मदिरालय के अन्दर
मधु के घट हैं,मधु प्याले हैं
जो मादकता के मारे हैं
वे मधु लूटा ही करते हैं
वह कच्चा पीने वाला है
जिसकी ममता घट प्यालों पर
जो सच्चे मधु से जला हुआ
कब रोता है चिल्लाता है
जो बीत गई सो बात गई

- हरिवंश राय बच्चन

Sleep and the Moon

she was trying to shut her eyes and will herself to sleep. hoping that sleeping would somehow solve a lot many problems. or atleast take them away for some time. she didnt know what her next step would be. she didnt know if she had enough faith in herself to go through the journey. she didnt know if any of her efforts would be of any use. and she certainly didnt know if she would ever be able to mend herself.

it didnt help that the clock showed the time as 4am. sleep was elusive. as if sleep was one of the many elusive "things" she was always chasing.

then she saw a stream of light through the window. at first she thought it was the street-lights seeping through the blinds. she almost discarded the beauty till she decided to trace back the lights to its source.

and she saw the bright moon from the window, it wasnt a full moon. rather it was an imperfect less-than-half-moon. but even this imperfect moon seemed to say to her, "i like to shine in a cloudless sky. i cant do anything when the clouds cover me. but you see, the clouds usually pass away with time and i still remain in my place, bright and shining. so its going to be okay, you will be fine."

so she turns over in her bed, closes her eyes and starts chasing sleep again. because if there is one thing that is worth chasing, it is precisely this. a few hours of sleep.

As Robert Kincaid says in Bridges of Madison County, ''The old dreams were good dreams; they didn't work out, but I'm glad I had them.''

A Clean Break

it felt so final. she mourned it even after all this time. but there was a sense of pseudo-power when she cut it lose completely. she would never see it again.

she did not feel ashamed to admit to herself that even after all this time, even now, a tiny part of her hoped to turn things around. she had her occasional victories. but they were just that. occasional and short-lived. even after all this time of trying and failing. of falling, getting-up, licking her wounds and then trying again.

but now she realized that this wound would never stop bleeding. so the only way to deal with this was to cut it out and start healing. have a clean break. true, there was nothing verbal about it. but she needed to cut-off even the remote possibility. on one hand, it almost felt childish. but this was the only remaining avenue she had to cover, the only possibility of a leak. never mind that the thoughts would always be there, that was intangible. that would be there, forever. she knew she could deal with that. she needed to take this step to preserve her faith. to know that she could still nurture.

when she started all this, she knew somewhere in a deep recess in her mind that this would never work. she felt she was in a sinking ship which had no life raft. but even passengers in such a ship don't give-up so easily. perhaps it is an inane human tendency. she knew she had to try, even though she knew where it would lead her to. she had to put herself through this without thinking if this was all worth it. so that in the end, she could tell herself she gave her best shot.

but she did not realize that in this hoping against hope, this process was sapping her energy every single day. chipping away her faith and cutting deeply into her heart and mind. she did not want that, she could not afford her hope, faith and beliefs to go away because she needed them to arrive at her future and preserve her past. otherwise, she feared she would become bitter and full of resentment.

she had made a clean break, not really knowing where this would take her. was this the best she could do ? she still does not know. doubts still plague her mind. but for now, she wouldnt mind in reveling in the tiny part of her which danced with joy, congratulating herself on taking her final step.

One Small Step Ahead at a Time

one step at a time is about patience and restraint. patience to cover just a small distance each time. restraint so avoid skipping steps to reach to the end.

this might lead to victory or defeat. it can result in complete disappointment or a small happiness. in case of the former, we learn a "lesson" and move on. in case of the latter, we are rewarded.

taking one step at a time also allows easy retrospection. i can always take one step back. this one step back will not set me back too much. but it will allow me a better perspective of things. if i don't like the look of things, i can even completely alter my direction.

as Khaled Hosseini said in Kite Runner: "Because when spring comes it melts the snow one flake at a time".

because when babies learn to stand on their feet, they take small steps. they don't start running on the first day.

so i say to myself, one baby step at a time since i am in no rush :)

The Art of Ending

the art is to know when to end it. as much as you might like to continue because you havent had enough, you run the risk of overdoing it.

the end might come a little too soon. but that way, you avoid making it bitter, boring, long-drawn, passive and overexposed. probably, that also adds to the drama, makes it more poetic. there is always a longing for things that are not there. there is always more mystery if it ends prematurely or abruptly. you can work-up your imagination and mould it your way. work on the "ifs" and "buts" and add your own spice.

of course the reality remains as it is: unfinished or incomplete.

New York

These few lines summarize what i think of the city, very effectively:

In New York,
Concrete jungle where dreams are made of,
There's nothing you can’t do,
Now you’re in New York,
These streets will make you feel brand new,
The lights will inspire you,
Lets here it for New York, New York, New York
Welcome to the bright light..

- Jay Z and Alicia Keys, Empire State of Mind

What can i say about the city that has not been said before. what can i say about the city that looks almost like the 8th wonder of the world. when the subway emerges from the ground on the Manhattan Bridge and enters the city, it fills me with a sense of wonder. in daytime, it is the beauty of concrete rising from the ground. in the night time, it is the countless lights reaching up and competing with the stars. there is something very intimate about the city, yet something very overwhelming too. intimate because of the old 3-storied old houses with curtain-laced windows that makes you imagine of a scene inside the room - a small round linen-covered table with 2 old ladies sipping their morning cup of tea. overwhelming for the highrises and the humongous billboads that makes you feel so small. the people here seem to be always rushing, men, women and even children seem to have such a stunning sense of fashion.

This city definitely lives-up to its hype and way beyond that.

Hope

I love hoping and become heartbroken when those hopeless hopes don't come true. The latter part of the sentence happens more often than not. Does that make me an incorrigible fool ?

I sometimes feel that it is too easy to remain cynical, cold, hard, bitter, don the garb of "I have faced a lot in life which has made me this way and I want to remain this way". Fact is, it takes a lot of courage to put yourself out there time and again. Risk getting irritated, pushed-around, stood-up or hurt. But still hope that the person in front of you will see your way. Hope that if things dont work-out your way, there is a good reason for that (even if you might end-up spending the remaining part of your life trying to figure-out that reason). Hope that the only take-away from your past experiences with people, with circumstances, with life, is a good lesson. And ample doses of strength.

As my friend put it: there is a thin line between faith and being in denial. Likewise, a thin line between hope and foolish dreams. I dont know if hoping against hope makes me an optimist or a fool in denial.

But all I know is, sometimes I feel I am working overtime to not become a cynic and cold person. That cheers me up. I know there is a lot more I might have to face. There might be incidents later that might trigger the same hurt, sadness, anger. But I also know that I have good people in my life. They do not owe me anything. But they will listen to my rants, cajole me, comfort me, scold me, laugh at me. They will stand by me, and I am thankful for that. If not to myself, I owe it to their faith in me.