Galti kar li maine
Yaad ho gayi nani
Do glass chai ke saath
Pi li nimbu pani
Galti kar li maine
Kyu ki itni daring?
Socha tha ‘Wah kya rapchick maal hai’
Nikla bobby darling
Galti kar li maine
Kyu li maine doston ki side
Maine socha woh mujhe dhek rahi hai
Par woh nikli cockeyed
Galti kar li maine
Kyu thi charbi khub saari?
Was thinking office nahi jaye, aaj.
Subha ko muster sign kiya. Agli subha ko exit maari.
-Austin.
A Caution To Everybody
|
Consider the auk;
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.
-Ogden Nash
Becoming extinct because he forgot how to fly, and could only walk.
Consider man, who may well become extinct
Because he forgot how to walk and learned how to fly before he thinked.
-Ogden Nash
When it is gonna rain this time...
|
I would be floating in the sand.
Digging my feet deep into the water.
When it is gonna rain this time...
I would let the umbrella go upside down.
I would catch the first cloud that agrees to take me to the beach.
I would smile and smile and break the ice.
When it is gonna rain this time...
The girls would giggle to not get a penny.
The boys would hide with their black gloves lost.
The old woman neighbour might complain less.
When it is gonna rain this time...
I would be curled in a raindrop.
Sleeping tight.
No rainbow for me.
For I hate sunshine.
When it is gonna rain this time...
--Payal
|
Inspiration. Ignition.
Something that kick starts.
Speechless like the wind,
And can not be surpassed.
No hinting traces left behind.
All the gone chances,
Now wither in the hind.
Something that kick starts.
Speechless like the wind,
And can not be surpassed.
No hinting traces left behind.
All the gone chances,
Now wither in the hind.
|
From darkness into the light
I saw her face, what delight!
She is a moment’s peace
That cannot be acquired
You can get lucky
But its something not really required
For she knows you
As you don’t know her
You think it is love
But ain’t sure if you can tell her
It is a submission
Where all you take is a given
You try to understand
But there is no reason
Only an open prison, hard to break
Like an ironical fate
You think you’re given, what you take
- Piy
I saw her face, what delight!
She is a moment’s peace
That cannot be acquired
You can get lucky
But its something not really required
For she knows you
As you don’t know her
You think it is love
But ain’t sure if you can tell her
It is a submission
Where all you take is a given
You try to understand
But there is no reason
Only an open prison, hard to break
Like an ironical fate
You think you’re given, what you take
- Piy
English language
|
This is a poem that inspired me a lot and for once made me think,writing poems could be fun.
Some words have different meanings,
and yet they’re spelt the same.
A cricket is an insect,
to play it — it’s a game.
On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed,
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed.
Some people say that you’re a dear,
yet dear is far from cheap.
A jumper is a thing you wear,
yet a jumper has to leap.
It’s very clear, it’s very queer,
and pray who is to blame
for different meanings to some words,
pronounced and spelt, the same?
A little journey is a trip,
a trip is when you fall.
It doesn’t mean you have to dance
whene’er you hold a ball.
Now here’s a thing that puzzles me:
musicians of good taste
will very often form a band —
I’ve one around my waist!
You spin a top, go for a spin,
or spin a yarn may be —
yet every spin’s a different spin,
as you can plainly see.
Now here’s a most peculiar thing —
’twas told me as a joke —
a dumb man wouldn’t speak a word,
yet seized a wheel and spoke.
A door may often be ajar,
but give the door a slam,
and then your nerves receive a jar —
and then there’s jars of jam.
You’ve heard, of course, of traffic jams,
and jams you give your thumbs.
And adders, too, one is a snake,
the other adds up sums.
A policeman is a copper,
it’s a nickname (impolite!)
yet a copper in the kitchen
is an article you light.
On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed —
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed!
Written by Harry Hemsley
Some words have different meanings,
and yet they’re spelt the same.
A cricket is an insect,
to play it — it’s a game.
On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed,
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed.
Some people say that you’re a dear,
yet dear is far from cheap.
A jumper is a thing you wear,
yet a jumper has to leap.
It’s very clear, it’s very queer,
and pray who is to blame
for different meanings to some words,
pronounced and spelt, the same?
A little journey is a trip,
a trip is when you fall.
It doesn’t mean you have to dance
whene’er you hold a ball.
Now here’s a thing that puzzles me:
musicians of good taste
will very often form a band —
I’ve one around my waist!
You spin a top, go for a spin,
or spin a yarn may be —
yet every spin’s a different spin,
as you can plainly see.
Now here’s a most peculiar thing —
’twas told me as a joke —
a dumb man wouldn’t speak a word,
yet seized a wheel and spoke.
A door may often be ajar,
but give the door a slam,
and then your nerves receive a jar —
and then there’s jars of jam.
You’ve heard, of course, of traffic jams,
and jams you give your thumbs.
And adders, too, one is a snake,
the other adds up sums.
A policeman is a copper,
it’s a nickname (impolite!)
yet a copper in the kitchen
is an article you light.
On every hand, in every land,
it’s thoroughly agreed —
the English language to explain
is very hard indeed!
Written by Harry Hemsley
Irregular Stream
|
An irregular stream of dreams is passing by,
The eyes are wide open and the world is in my arms.
There is someone somewhere looking at me,
I am not sure where I am.
Confined spaces, blocked tears,
There is a rather faint smile on the lips,
Someone in my dreams is feeling scared.
I politely dismiss the stream.
Walk in parallel.
Should I float in it?
Should I not?
Payal
The eyes are wide open and the world is in my arms.
There is someone somewhere looking at me,
I am not sure where I am.
Confined spaces, blocked tears,
There is a rather faint smile on the lips,
Someone in my dreams is feeling scared.
I politely dismiss the stream.
Walk in parallel.
Should I float in it?
Should I not?
Payal
something is out of place...
|
It’s not very usual, something is certainly out of place;
I am not yet sure, maybe I've lost something I can’t replace...!
What is a man to think, what is a man to say;
If, on a bright sunny morning, his skies turn all grey?
In the melancholy eyes of memory, I try to dig it out;
But what is it I look for, that still remains in doubt!
What is this feeling, the burden I feel on the heart;
Why won’t it stop, why does it keep tearing me apart?
True love never crossed me, of that I had grown sure;
Then what is it that lends me, this pain of love so pure?!
I am not yet sure, maybe I've lost something I can’t replace...!
What is a man to think, what is a man to say;
If, on a bright sunny morning, his skies turn all grey?
In the melancholy eyes of memory, I try to dig it out;
But what is it I look for, that still remains in doubt!
What is this feeling, the burden I feel on the heart;
Why won’t it stop, why does it keep tearing me apart?
True love never crossed me, of that I had grown sure;
Then what is it that lends me, this pain of love so pure?!
The storyteller
|
He travelled to undiscovered lands,
He met people who aren’t born yet.
From the mystical river,
Emerged the storyteller each and every night.
Waking me up from the midnight to the moon,
Weaving yards and yards of stories.
He kept his hands on my eyes,
And whispered in my ears.
Words of dreams, words of fiction.
Words of reality, words of lies.
His imagination goes as far as reality,
His reality is only but his imagination.
His characters die with him in the river,
Only to wake me up in the middle of the night.
Payal
|
Smiles pushed out of parted lips.
Heavy hearts that never smile and tip.
Hazy dreams, occupied with silent screams.
People so weary, with hearts so empty.
Your search is on. And forever it will be.
Eaten snow for lunch yet, or sipped water from the sea?
Please be on time, to butter your toast.
Or you’ll be late for your steaming latte
and force it while its cold.
The birds are humming
but you don’t have to hear…
the thoughts in your head are louder and clear.
-Arundhati
Heavy hearts that never smile and tip.
Hazy dreams, occupied with silent screams.
People so weary, with hearts so empty.
Your search is on. And forever it will be.
Eaten snow for lunch yet, or sipped water from the sea?
Please be on time, to butter your toast.
Or you’ll be late for your steaming latte
and force it while its cold.
The birds are humming
but you don’t have to hear…
the thoughts in your head are louder and clear.
-Arundhati
From slumdog to...
|
She tapped on the glass.
She gestured for a rupee.
I looked at her. I looked away. I looked at her again.
‘I’m not going to give you any money’. Of course I wasn’t going to.
And then I remembered…
There’s always something sweeter than a rupee. ‘Where did I see it last? Ahh, there it is.’
I pulled out the two candies I had in my bag.
Worth Rs. 2.00
Gave it to her.
Take eat.
She look at me. She looked at the candy.
She threw it back on the glass. It fell to the floor.
‘Tu kha’ is all she said.
That slum-bitch.
-Austin.
She gestured for a rupee.
I looked at her. I looked away. I looked at her again.
‘I’m not going to give you any money’. Of course I wasn’t going to.
And then I remembered…
There’s always something sweeter than a rupee. ‘Where did I see it last? Ahh, there it is.’
I pulled out the two candies I had in my bag.
Worth Rs. 2.00
Gave it to her.
Take eat.
She look at me. She looked at the candy.
She threw it back on the glass. It fell to the floor.
‘Tu kha’ is all she said.
That slum-bitch.
-Austin.
An Ode to My Childhood
|
Today, memories are looking through the glass,
Of the debates where no one would ever lose,
Of the evenings, where we always walked till the no man’s land,
Of the mornings, where the sun would melt in our eyes,
Of the nights, where the moon was right over our head,
Of the real stories about real people,
Narrated with passion,
Always with a glint in the eyes,
Of the white lies,
Of the black truths,
Of the magic webs,
Of the insane imagination,
Of no role models,
Of the stars that we always managed to count,
Of the moon who was at our beck and call,
Of the tears that could move the earth,
Of the laughter that could make the devil jealous.
Why so serious?
|
Why so serious?
Joker's dad asked him!
Why so serious?
Joker joked with me.
The smile streched from one end to another.
Its elastic almost ready to snap.
The full moon stories were told in vain.
Some humorous innuendoes were narrated with fake pleasure.
The sky crystal clear and the throat was blocked.
The air was so plaesant and the brain was jammed.
Why so serious?
Joker pointed at the lovely weather.
In an answer, it burst open.
Rained, till it drenched him.
Crying in the rain my friend?
Joker, Joker, Joker
No need to be a cynic, I spoke for a change.
He turned around, smiled,
The elastic stretched and broke
He walked away.
I was just being a joker.
-----Payal
The blog is dying
|
The blog is dying.
So some people say.
Do we have enough hours in a single day?
To churn out a few words.
A few lines.
A few thoughts.
I don’t know.
Let me be inspire.
Let me perspire.
Let the AC not work for a while.
May MS-word get flooded.
Let the waves take us through.
Let the sky be yellow, like jaundice.
Not just plain ol’ mundane blue.
- Austin.
So some people say.
Do we have enough hours in a single day?
To churn out a few words.
A few lines.
A few thoughts.
I don’t know.
Let me be inspire.
Let me perspire.
Let the AC not work for a while.
May MS-word get flooded.
Let the waves take us through.
Let the sky be yellow, like jaundice.
Not just plain ol’ mundane blue.
- Austin.
Blink
|
The phone call went unanswered,
The smile was fading away.
Your broken silences,
My half hearted attempts.
You kept on moving and always stayed at the same spot.
The place where I would look for you would never change.
It is so difficult to find that spot again.
The twirl of the smoke reached the sky last night.
In my dream, you flew away on the smoke cloud.
The line was darkening
The boundary was blurring
The bell rang till dawn
The smile wanted to touch your lips.
It quivered often,
Did not find you in the dark.
Blink.
--Payal
SOB.SIGH.GRUNT
|
I’m so poor
I can be a beggar
Forever, forever if things don’t change
I’m so low I can be a door mat
Forever, forever if I don’t change
I feel like a tsunami is over
An earthquake is happening
A whirlwind is on its way
There is a pale grey boring face
Staring cynically at its own fate
Its lips so cheerless
Its eyes so tearless
I'm so sad but i cant cry a half glass full
Its just so bad, i always think its half empty
If I fail I must feel
that I was never meant to reign
If I prevail?
Oh how will I prevail!??
I’M SO FU*%*&* PESSIMISTIC!!!
This is dedicated to all you heartless cynics out there. If reading this gives you a feel of de ja vu, then I suggest you look in the mirror and say this ten times a day “Soy un perdedor”. Nevertheless, I share no emotional attachment with this piece.
- happyTotto:) :) :)
I can be a beggar
Forever, forever if things don’t change
I’m so low I can be a door mat
Forever, forever if I don’t change
I feel like a tsunami is over
An earthquake is happening
A whirlwind is on its way
There is a pale grey boring face
Staring cynically at its own fate
Its lips so cheerless
Its eyes so tearless
I'm so sad but i cant cry a half glass full
Its just so bad, i always think its half empty
If I fail I must feel
that I was never meant to reign
If I prevail?
Oh how will I prevail!??
I’M SO FU*%*&* PESSIMISTIC!!!
This is dedicated to all you heartless cynics out there. If reading this gives you a feel of de ja vu, then I suggest you look in the mirror and say this ten times a day “Soy un perdedor”. Nevertheless, I share no emotional attachment with this piece.
- happyTotto:) :) :)
Its not that I can't write poetry
|
Its not that I cant write poetry,
Its just that i'd rather watch The Big Lebowski;
Its not that there is a problem with the verse that is free,
Its jus that it doesnt make a logical sense,
When I randomly miss a comma, a colon and an apostrophe,
And attribute it to the oh-so-cool poetic license!
--Notgogol
PS: Notgogol is my "blog friend" who wrote it while we were arguing about poetry. Payal
|
Would you stay?
I haven’t laughed since so many days
I haven’t smiled since so many days
To tell you the truth, I have not been living in so many ways
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to come now
But if I ask, would you stay?
So many things I wish to forget
Pretend like they never happened
Like the kid who falls down while no one’s looking
Embarrassed, he picks himself up as if nothing happened
and starts to play
And I know it would be unfair to be that kid now
But if I choose to be, would you stay?
Put down those ten things you’d like to do before you die
One would be the Sistine Chapel and the other would be to fly
But somewhere between the ninth and the tenth
I might just cross your mind on that lazy day
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to spend your life with me now
But if I ask, would you stay?
- Piy
I haven’t laughed since so many days
I haven’t smiled since so many days
To tell you the truth, I have not been living in so many ways
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to come now
But if I ask, would you stay?
So many things I wish to forget
Pretend like they never happened
Like the kid who falls down while no one’s looking
Embarrassed, he picks himself up as if nothing happened
and starts to play
And I know it would be unfair to be that kid now
But if I choose to be, would you stay?
Put down those ten things you’d like to do before you die
One would be the Sistine Chapel and the other would be to fly
But somewhere between the ninth and the tenth
I might just cross your mind on that lazy day
And I know it would be unfair to ask you to spend your life with me now
But if I ask, would you stay?
- Piy
|
On the canvas called night
If this were a dream
You would be the writer
And I would be the poem
Like a book written to be read
But not meant to be opened
Mysteries would unravel distances
With your lips as close to me
As the words mixed up for their meaning
Same but quite different
Both hopelessly in love
One with the poet
One with the poem
- Piy
If this were a dream
You would be the writer
And I would be the poem
Like a book written to be read
But not meant to be opened
Mysteries would unravel distances
With your lips as close to me
As the words mixed up for their meaning
Same but quite different
Both hopelessly in love
One with the poet
One with the poem
- Piy
Ek Cup Basi Coffee
|
(yah yek imaaginaarii situashan men likhii gaee kavitaa hai... jo sach men yah savaal poochhatii hai kii in sab men imaaginaarii kitanaa hai aur sach kitanaa)
is kavitaa ko men kyon likh rahaa hoon yah baat men soch rahaa hoon
apane haath men padii laal kaalii nataraaj kii pensil ko apane nokiyaa phon se kompare kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak tumhaaraa kyaa reachshan rahaa hogaa yah soch rahaa hoon
kaise biike chalaate chalaate ye kavitaa sochii yah hii soch rahaa hoon
tum kahii ghadii kii suee ko n dekh lo yah soch soch men dar rahaa hoon
phir doosare pal aas paas dekh yah pal sach hai is baat ko jaanch rahaa hoon
kaard pepar ke is kaafii kap se kaafii phoonk phoonk kar pii rahaa hoon
is do saal puraanii kaafii ko chakh kar kos rahaa hoon
aas paas phir dekh kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak kavitaa khtam ho jani chaiyeh thii yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa kahaan se kahaan jaa rahii hai is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir pannaa palat kar aage ise lih rahaa hoon
ab tak tumako impres kiyaa kii nahiin yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa inglish men kyon nahiin likhii yah sochate sochate aur bhii bhaashaa kaa traansaleshan soch rahaa hoon
sou se ded sou kii spiid par chalatii apanii haartabiit ko mahasoos kar rahaa hoon
is vakt tak phon n bajaa hogaa shaayad yah sach ho is baat se khush ho rahaa hoon is laain ke baad kahiin tum apanaa phon sakariin n dekh lo is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir yek baar apane baase kaafii ke kap ko dekh kuchh buraa soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa men sach men yaa bhram men tumhe pad kar sunaa rahaa hoon, yah jaanane kii koshish kar rahaa hoon
sach aur bhram kii laain no ko dhundhalii hotii dekh sar pakad rahaa hoon
yah merii haath kii kaafii bhii kahiin kaalpanik toh nahiin yah soch kar haath ke kap ko niiche rakh rahaa hoon
is kavitaa ko men kyon likh rahaa hoon yah baat men soch rahaa hoon
apane haath men padii laal kaalii nataraaj kii pensil ko apane nokiyaa phon se kompare kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak tumhaaraa kyaa reachshan rahaa hogaa yah soch rahaa hoon
kaise biike chalaate chalaate ye kavitaa sochii yah hii soch rahaa hoon
tum kahii ghadii kii suee ko n dekh lo yah soch soch men dar rahaa hoon
phir doosare pal aas paas dekh yah pal sach hai is baat ko jaanch rahaa hoon
kaard pepar ke is kaafii kap se kaafii phoonk phoonk kar pii rahaa hoon
is do saal puraanii kaafii ko chakh kar kos rahaa hoon
aas paas phir dekh kar has rahaa hoon
ab tak kavitaa khtam ho jani chaiyeh thii yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa kahaan se kahaan jaa rahii hai is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir pannaa palat kar aage ise lih rahaa hoon
ab tak tumako impres kiyaa kii nahiin yah soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa inglish men kyon nahiin likhii yah sochate sochate aur bhii bhaashaa kaa traansaleshan soch rahaa hoon
sou se ded sou kii spiid par chalatii apanii haartabiit ko mahasoos kar rahaa hoon
is vakt tak phon n bajaa hogaa shaayad yah sach ho is baat se khush ho rahaa hoon is laain ke baad kahiin tum apanaa phon sakariin n dekh lo is baat ke liye khud ko kos rahaa hoon
phir yek baar apane baase kaafii ke kap ko dekh kuchh buraa soch rahaa hoon
yah kavitaa men sach men yaa bhram men tumhe pad kar sunaa rahaa hoon, yah jaanane kii koshish kar rahaa hoon
sach aur bhram kii laain no ko dhundhalii hotii dekh sar pakad rahaa hoon
yah merii haath kii kaafii bhii kahiin kaalpanik toh nahiin yah soch kar haath ke kap ko niiche rakh rahaa hoon
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