The Dull Summers

The lives of leaves

the petels of sunbeans

the dirt on sleeves

The white becomes yellow

everything is dull and so silent. 

The Dull summers are giving 

some weird life full of agony

and pain. 

The mirage could be easily seen

on the charcoals of this road. 

Everything is seen with 

error of humanity

The error in humanity 

and the error of being a human. 

 

The Dull Summers 

with the pale in hail 

the fragrance of soil

The birds have reduced 

making chirps

Everyone is tending to go dizzy

except this sun and this sandeep. 

 

The Dull Summers 

making everything virtual. 

It seems somebody is standing under the tree

somebody is screaming someone’s name. 

Whiskies are changed into beers. 

Whispering is changing into screams

in this dull summers.

The Feelings

 

The feelings which makes ebbs and tides in my heart.
The feellings which makes me go fonder without you.
The feelings when I see rainbow.
The feelings when I see early morning sun.
The feelings when I see 4th day moon.
The feelings when I see the colors of holi and lights of diwali.
The feelings when I play my guitar.
The feelings which makes my soul travelling and searching.
The feelings in which I search what I intended to have.
The feelings of joys, sorrows.
The feelings of your eyes, when you blink them.
The feelings when ur lips make an upward curve.
The feelings whilst watching cricket match  and fighting over TV remote.
The feelings of you.
The feelings of your boaring TV episode.
The feelings of having pizza together.
The feeling of opening a Restro.
The feelings which never separates you from me
are always with me.
I see, I feel you roaming everywhere in my home
making some sound,
The feeling to chase the sound
leads me to solitaire.
The automn is making trees to shed all leaves,
see some leaves are even in my veranda.
Making me to remember of the past.
Every year it sheds,
Every year birds leave them.
Every year I dont stop looking at it even in automn.
Every year it regains leaves,
Every year birds come back,
Every year I dont stop looking at it even in rain.

The feeling of your hand,
when they run through your hairs.
The feeling of seeing you,
feeling is you from past few years.
The years in which I have never seen you.
The years in which I have never touched you.
The years in which you remain as an imagination.
An imagination in which you live
An imagination in which I am in love
Else where I can’t see love anywhere in the world.
I loved my feelings
I loved my feelings for an unseen lady.
The feelings in which I made pictures of my to be gal.
The feelings in which I and she fights daily,
love each other daily.
She exists in feelings.
And the feelings exist in me.

Gap Between consecutive posts.

Hi,

Wishing you all a Happy Holi. My new post after 11th December 08 and today is 10th March 09 . Approx a gap of 3 months among the two consecutive posts.

Actually this life usually gives you a problem in terms of gynos. And there is an illuminated war among my head and soul and that is my head thinks that I am philogynist and soul thinks I am misogynist. It’s a state of war that every one has to take, the war between the uncertain thinking of heart and head, even Einstein did so and I am no Einstien and there is simply no rocket science available in this visionary world to come out of it.

What I did in those three long months, I read 3 books:

1) The Secret by Rhonda Bryne

2) Handbook for Writers by Lynn Quitman Troyka

3) My India, The Eternal India by Swami Vivekananda.

Other problem was that I was working in HP, and didn’t got the hell of time out of office. After office and reading books and newspapers, you can’t think of writting stuff. I tried it many times. But never came out with any good stuff so that I could publish it on my page.

Well I would try to write more and will try that “Search is on” would be completed/published in this year.  * ” Search is on ” is the name of the book, what I planned to write, a fictious stuff. I promise that book ( if released ) would not break even the records of Manorama, you might be aware of Manorama, the six Feet Under. Well, it was none of mistake of Abhay Deol in that movie, if anybody could have a wife like Gul Panag, who the hell would think of writting, I won’t dare to come out of bed, if I will get a wife like Gul Panag. Isn’t she Sexy.

Anyways, I did talked of hell of waste things in the come back post, would not make you to pull your hairs out of your head. It’s more than suffice, I guess.

Coming Back to Life  in form of Guitar, Love and Writting. 

With Regards

Sandeep Sinha

मज़ा आता है

रात को 1 बजे सोने में बहुत मज़ा आता है ,
सुबह 6 बजे उठने में मज़ा आता है ,
पूरे दिन तेरे बारे में सोचने में मज़ा आता है ,
उसके बाद जब तू कुछ नहीं बोलता तो तेरे इंतज़ार में मज़ा आता है ,
इनकार में मज़ा आता है ,
हर हार में मज़ा आता है ,
तेरे दीदार में मज़ा आता है ,
तेरी हर बात में मज़ा आता है ,
तेरी सौगात में मज़ा आता है ,
हल पल ज़िन्दगी दुश्वार है …
पर एक मज़ा आता है

ज़िन्दगी है उधार की पर एक मज़ा आता है
तू है किसी और की पर तुझे दूर से देखने में मज़ा आता है
तुझसे जीना सिखने में मज़ा आता है
तुझसे मरना सीखने में मज़ा आता है
किसी को बर्बाद करने में मज़ा आता है
अपनी बर्बाद ज़िन्दगी पे हसने पर भी मज़ा आता है
तुझे रुलाने में मज़ा आता है
तुझे हँसाने में मज़ा आता है
तेरी उदास करने वाली बात पर भी तेरे सामने मुस्कुराने में मज़ा आता है

तेरे अनजान से सवाल को सुलझाने में मज़ा आता है
तेरे अनकहे सवाल समझने में मज़ा आता है
तेरे जज्बात में खोने में मज़ा आता है
तुझे अपने आप में देखने में मज़ा आता है
तेरे दिल के सवाल खुद समझने में मज़ा आता है
तेरे छुपे आंसू अपने आखों से बहाने में मज़ा आता है
तुझसे तुझमें तेरी बात छुपाने में मज़ा आता है
कभी कभी रात भर 1 से 6 भी तुझे सोचते सोचते बीतने में मज़ा आता है
तेरी हर सांस में हर आह में मज़ा आता है
दफ्तर में बिस्तर में कनस्तर में
तेरी छुपी हसी याद करने में मज़ा आता है
तुझसे अपनी आँखें छुपाने में भी मज़ा आता है

Happy Diwali

What brings on your mind, when you thought of Diwali. Ehhh, I guess some sweets, gifts, bright lights.

Ahh, Diwali is about to come and I have promised me that I won’t sit on net for any time after this Sunday, up to CAT. I am just completing all my pending work for my room, my life within 2 days. I know it’s a long time. 48 hours, isn’t it a long time? I know after a long session of Quantative Ability, one needs some rest. From 12 @ mid-night to 12 noon, solved around 750 questions and you can see my head trembling with severe headache. Still I am happy that I may eject out of the turmoil of maths on CAT day.

After this hectic session, I decided to spend all my savings to make my room livelier. So that you could easily come in my room in a reverie to make some cups of tea for me along with some good rebukes to take me further towards my books. (Remember the lines of my poems: tum padho .. shayad mai aayi .. sabko naa dungi dikhai aur kaano mein aake kahungi ki … woh aisi paagal ladki thi)

Just 10 days left for Diwali, let’s go for new wall colors. Don’t you think, selecting a wall color is the most though job for me? Yes it is the toughest job for me. First and foremost I thought to go for some kids color, as I am a kid. Then I though that I have to at least act like an adult in this world, where some one believes that I am a kid, hey, mind it, I have stopped watching Cartoon Network and Pogo.

Then finally I planned to go for multi colored wall, you know one color would be green in any case. My room has three walls and on one side I only have wardrobes, with a long collection of some old clothes, I haven’t done some shopping from past 6- 7 months.   On one side of wall, I am using brown and grey combination, it will look sober. Bhaiyaji is doing this right now and I am writing this post.

And I am planning to use clove red and leaf green colors on two sides. One is a shade of my fav color and one is shade of someone’s fav color. I will post up the pics of my room after the CAT day or maybe I may come online for few moments, if I would get some time, after the color application.

Yaaro jashn hai yeh zindagi. New color in my room, blessings from some one special and 12 hours continuous sessions of study, where would destiny take me. At least, I won’t say this year that I should have studied for few more hours, I am doing all, whatever I couldn’t even thought of, and to add something, I do not switch on my music player while studying now a days.

I listen to most hilarious song on music player, on a tea break and that song is, no reward for guessing the most hilarious song from the movie OSO, that’s none other than Dhoom Tana. Hahaha.  My fridge will start occupying lots of Ladoos and Burfis in just few days and some fruit bears and the chilling Limca, Yes limca is my fav soft drink. But I am thinking, will I enjoy all this alone.

Why not? Hallo, I am not all alone. Mehtab would be coming just after diwali for combined studies, and we guys would simply gonna rock this year. Just hold your nerves tight and pray for us.

And my biggest challenge is me. I have to work up to my standards.

This side of wall is looking great. Hope you guys could also see this. Don’t worry, pics would be uploaded very soon, and I am leaving to have a laddoo. Would you like to have one?

I pledge:

* I won’t use crackers this year

 * won’t gamble even a single penny, (coz I dont have any) even tough I will win. This line is not from the book of Shiv Khera, you could win. I hardly read self help book.

Thanks to you, for your 24 hours assistance in all aspects of life, and helping me to take me from adolescence to a… don’t know to what.

With lots of happiness and bliss,

Happy Diwali to my reader, and readers.

Love you.

Signing off till 16th November 2008.

Miss me but not toooooo much. I will be back, else where I could go.

 

A journey to Ahmedabad.

( From 2003 May to the perennial )

Random thoughts running through my head right now.

One month wait. Amidst Diwali. My pair of shoes. dream for IIM A. Train journey. Denial. Ahmedabad. Coffee. Working on my writing. Did I ask for it?

Since when did slight pangs of jealousy become part of my life? Long, slender hands. Faith in myself isn’t anymore. Over the threshold. Still protected? Talk-a-lot. Self-sufficiency. Blank-shaped hole in the Universe*. Acceptance. Opinions. Seclusion. How did I stop becoming self-righteous? What did I do right? I’m letting my guard down. 1 month more to go. Need my strength back. Personality or lack of it? Open doors and windows. Do I really want to look out? Oh, and those coffee and her dark black eyes I love so much.

One life to live. One dream to carry and one cry to carry is all. The sufferings of deja vu or is it some reverie, anyways what ever is it.  Hearts are broken when the words are unspoken, and those black eyes left me to play in the wimbeldon and why does game is going too long, see I am waiting right here. When she will win the game by 6-0 and 6-0. Anyways, here we need not to do anything with the wimbeldon matches and I am not talking about Maria Sharapova, oops she has got hazel eyes .. aa let’s change it to Steffi Graph, yes, I am not talking about Steffi. She started off there playing in wimbeldon and then she shifted to Lords and then she got dissolved in my cup of coffee as like sugar, there is a pang of jealousy, there is a bit of self denial and Ahmedabad Rajdhani always run from New Delhi Railway station @ 4 PM and in that train having a cup of coffee along with a very nice song is a dream, ehw, confused, don’t be any !

Somebody met a chatter box. Talks talks talks and only talks about all rubbish. The words were always few. The dandias, the navratris, diwali, holi, all festivals, all euphoria. The genial among the friends, all misplaced. Mislocated voids and mismanaged lifes are the engineers gift for life. I am no more a exception, it all happens and happenings may make you and your desires to self denial.

I know something is there in this world, like …. I don’t know like what. But there is something that’s too strange to discuss out. Blood flows and sweat it out, to live life. A sim was broken and that broken sim had song ” Dil dhoondta hai fir wahi fursat ke raat din” and don’t know what happened that those brown eyes, even did’nt called me up before the matches of wimbeldon and she was gone and she played played and I was loosing loosing and lost.

Angelic eyes and those cute smile, I see them always somewhere in memories and those  memories are so tangible that you can almost touch them. At other times memories stay like a blur somewhere in the recesses of your mind. Yet they are safe. Safe from prying eyes, safe from vagaries of time, safe from you and me, indeed…

Memories of our idiotic talks and some dreams to follow, I had even few. Had has nothing to do with have, and have has nothing to do with had. Had I ever  have something for you or with you. Answer is a blank No. There was nothing to gain and nothing to loose, even though I have gained something and lost everything. But still, there is some anxiety in me, to know more about what are all the things I have lost and what I have gained, I have given everything and got an art of writting. The art of writting is in me from my school days, but I used to write like ” ek ram hota hai aur ek shyaam hota hai, dono dost hote hai, dono mein ladai hoti hai aur fir dono sorry bolte hai ek doosre ko .. fir dosti hoti hai ” But now there is a bit difference in the way I write, at that time my stories had happy endings, but now there is only a ending and that’s by mere a full stop and the word missing out in stories is the happy.

The train that goes to Ahmedabad, IIM Ahmedabad may get those feelings for me, and meeting someone special there, might not be a bad idea, if the wimbeldon match finishes now and then. There is no enigma in the story and no story is without enigma, so stop making weird faces and concentrate on the text further.

Blacky once said, ” Want to study abroad” and I was such a big stupid that I started praying to god, let her give whatever she wants. See, god listens to me for all evil wishes. Everything happens for a reason and que-sera-sera. So I am no one to make big change in anything except write and entertain you for a time being. That’s all or it’s all. I am quite weak with grammar. Help me out lord.

Let the wimbeldon gets over soon, let the train to ahmedabad gives a siren, let me get the reservation for that train and listening to my favorite songs along with coffee, in which her thoughts would be dissloved and I would gulp it.

कौन हु मै ?

मिली मुझे एक परी
थोडी घुली थोडी मिली
मुझको थी प्यारी बड़ी
फिर जाने वोह कहा चली
धुंडा उसको गली गली

3 साल बाद फिर मिली
थोडी घुली थोडी मिली
प्यारी है मुझको बड़ी
एक दिन मुझ से बोली
कौन हु मै ?
क्यों हु तुझको प्यारी बड़ी …

मै बस ये ही बोला 
…….
…..
…….

खामोशी की भी है एक जुबान
जो मुझसे कुछ न बुलवाए
बस फिर भी दिल यही चाहे की
काश परी कभी ज़मीन पर भी उतर आये
और आस पास से गुजर जाए
महका जाए मेरे छोटे से संसार को
जिसमें आंधी से भी उड़ कर
तेरी खुशबु नहीं आती
तेरा एहसास जो मेरी बातों में
मेरी रातो में
सुअगातो में
अनजान रास्तो में
उसमें से निकलने की चाहतो में
दरिया में डूब जाने को
उनकी सीपियों में से
तुझे निकलने का
बादलो में
बादलो की हवायो में
तेरी गूंजती आवाज़ है
आवाज़ बुलाती है मुझको
ना जाने कहा
बनाया मुझको वन का हिरन
धुन्धू तुझको बादलो में
सीपियों में सागरों में
अब तो हवा में भी तेरी ही धुन सुनु
और तू मुझसे पूछ जाए
की मै कौन हु ??

सर्दी की रातो में जब भी खिड़की खोलू
तुझे अपनी bike पर बैठा पायु

मेरा कोई दोस्त नहीं इस जहां में
जो मुझको समझ पाए
रातो की हवायों में
तू bike से हाथ हिलाए
और पढने की गुहार लगाये
और कभी सोते वक़्त मुझको लोरी सुनाने आये
चम्पी भी अच्छी सी कर के जाए
ज़िन्दगी के नए राह दिखाए
और फिर भी मुझसे कभी पूछ बैठे
कौन हु मै ??

गर्मी की जलती धुप में
मुझे लस्सी पिलाये
थोडा बतियाये , सुस्ताये
और शाम को
अपने घर के पोधों में
तुझको पानी डालता देखू  
और वहा से जो मिटटी की सौंधी खुशबु आये
मुझे वोह तेरी याद दिलाये

तेरी बारिश शुरू होती है
जिसमें सब गिला गिला है
आंसू नहीं है, यह तो एक ख़ुशी है
की तेरी बारिश आई है
बारिश में भीगती
scooty चलाती सडको पर नज़र आये

वहा से इशारे से बोले
कही छुप जायो
बारिश तेज़ है
मै तो परी हु
मेरा क्या .. ना जाने मै कौन हु ??

छुप जायु तो तू मेरे बगल में आके खड़ी हो जाए
और मेरे छिकने पर खूब हसे
और फिर बोले कौन हु मै ??

मै फिर कुछ ना बोल पायु
हलके से हसू, मुस्करायु
और रात की तन्हाई में
भी कभी आँख बंद करने के बाद
तुझको यह बत्लायु
की प्रतिबिम्ब को कोई क्या बताये
की कौन है तू ???

BAk Bak Apne college ki.

Hai liye apni hi Bakar, dushman taak me baitha udhar!
Aur hum taiyar hai KINNOO apna liye idhar!!
Bakar se khelenge holi gar Mudita mushkil me hai!
BakFaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Chehre jinme ho junoon nahi roke kisi ke rokne se!
din mein thake hum,to raat raat jaag ke lage bakar mein hain
Aur bhadkega jo josh hamare dil me hai!
BakFaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Hum to ghar se nikle hi the padhne le daakhila!
raastein mein hi kurbaan ho gaya bakar par
shabd to apne mehaman, bakar ke mehafil me hai!
Bakfaroshi ki tammanna aab hamare dil me hai!!
Jahan diye UP jaise bakar, LAV kiye inklaab hain
Chaurasia , Daksh aaye, dekho yeh bakar-e-junnon mein hain
shabd kaate, gaane tode, angrezi inki jeb mein hain
bakfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamaare dil mein hain
vicky lsey basu motu bheje baahar,
kehte sab dharm, desh bakar ke hisse mein hain;
kyun chhod de unko bhi, jo hamare apne hain;
Bakfaroshi ki tamanna ab hamare dil mein hain

Dedicated to NC hostellers … 2007 Batch …

Happy Bakar Bakar … along with chai, sutta and daaru ….

anth kaha hai ??

anth kaha hai ???
mai chala
tu bhi chal
basta mera hai
tera bhi hai
banjara mai bhi nahi
tu bhi nahi
awaara mai bhi nahi
tu bhi nahi
dukh mujhe to hota hai
shayad tujhe nahi
raaste dekh wahi hai
ek sidhi si pagdandi hai
tu bhi chali thi
mai bhi chala tha
tujhe aaj kahi aur jaana hai
aur mera bhi kaha koi thikana hai
is mod se us mod tak aana hai
par chakkar to saara yaha hai
ki mod kaha hai
anth kaha hai …
raasta khatam kaha hai
meri manzil isi raah par hai
par naa jaane kaha hai
chalte chalte mile agar tujhe kabhi
to bata dena mere hamsafar
aage ki manzile ham teh nahi karenge
kyuki meri manzil to tumhe hi dhundhi thi
aur tumne dhundh li hai
to fir us manzil ka anth kaha hai …
naa to aadi hai
naa to anaadi hai
naa to anth hai
naa to shuruwaat hai
naa hi mod hai
naa hi tod hai
naa tu mujhe chode hai
naa mai tujhe chod saku hu
naa tu jine de hai
naa mai jee saku hu
naa tu mai hu
naa mai tu hu
naa mai mai hu
naa tu tu hai
tu mai
mai tu
naa jaane kaha hai
naa jaane kaun hai
naa jaane kab aaye
naa jaane
anth kaha hai …
tu mera anth hai
ya mai tera anth hu
tu kuch nahi hai
tu bas ek khawab hai
jisko dekha nahi hai
tu woh gaana hai
jisko gaaya nahi hai
tu manzil hai
jisko paaya nahi hai
tu bheeshan aasmaan hai
mai registaan mein khila
ek fool hu
baarish nahi hai
fir bhi khil gaya hu
tu .. tu hai ..
jo aaj tak dikhi nahi ..
mili nahi …
sochi nahi …
samjhi nahi …
naa jaane fir bhi mai tu kyu hu
aur naa jaane anth kaha hai
mujhe bhi pata hai
padne wala yahi soch raha hai
ki anth kaha hai
yeh kahani anth heen hai
naa koi anth hai
naa koi basant hai
bas ek tapti hui garmi hai
garmi mein chilmilati dhoop hai
dhoop mein raaste
chuandhiya gaye hai suraj se
bikhla uthi hai dharti
ho chuka hai hahakaar
par anth kaha hai
tu wahi hai jisne diye the dastak
is sune jahaan mein
par darwaza khola
to tu kaun hai ..
aur ….
tera anth kaha hai …

The Grievances of memory

Sometimes memories are so tangible that you can almost touch them. At other times memories stay like a blur somewhere in the recesses of your mind. Yet they are safe. Safe from prying eyes, safe from vagaries of time, safe from you and me, indeed…..