To those who belong to the Road!

अब न मुझको याद बीता

मैं तोह लम्हों में जीता
चला जा रहा हूँ
मैं कहाँ पे जा रहा हूँ...
कहाँ हूँ?
इस यक़ीन से मैं यहाँ हूँ

की ज़माना यह भला है
और जो राह में मिला है
थोड़ी दूर जो चला है
वह भी आदमी भला था
पता था
ज़रा बस खफा था
वह भटका सा राही मेरे गाँव का ही
वह रास्ता पुराना जिसे याद आना
ज़रूरी था लेकिन जो रोया मेरे बिन
वो एक मेरा घर था
पुराना सा डर था
मगर अब न मैं अपने घर का रहा
सफर का ही था मैं सफ़र का रहा
इधर का ही हूँ न उधर का रहा
सफर का ही था मैं सफ़र का रहा
इधर का ही हूँ न उधर का रहा
सफर का ही थ मैं सफ़र का रहा
मैं रहा...

मील पत्थरों से मेरी दोस्ती है
चाल मेरी क्या है राह जानती है
जाने रोज़ाना...

ज़माना वही रोज़ाना
शहर शहर फुर्सतों को बेचता हूँ
खाली हाथ जाता खाली लौट'ता हूँ

ऐसे रोज़ाना
रोज़ाना खुद से बेगाना...
जबसे गाँव से मैं शहर हुआ

इतना कड़वा हो गया की…

की ज़हर हुआ

मैं तो रोज़ाना ना चाहा था 

ये हो जाना मैंने ये उमर वक़्त रास्ता गुज़रता रहा
सफ़र का ही था मैं सफर का रहा.......

सफ़र का ही था मैं सफर का रहा.......

Cheers! 

Dukkha

I hide my face in the pillow and cry loudly. I press its velvet surface on my face. My closed eyes try to contain the tears until they are full and they start overflowing from the corners of my eyes. My face is moist with tears and the steam of my breath. My heart is saddened with grief and I cry non-stop.

I feel the grief very strongly.

So strongly that I am in a state of complete denial. I do not want to live this moment. I just want to get transported into another reality- I want this to be a dream. I push my heightened senses of grief to believe my Disbelief.

And while I am in a state that is in between the two, I get transported into another reality. I wake up with tears in my eyes, a wet pillow and heavy breathing...into this alternate world which I have been taught is reality.

I don't know how many realities I exist in. I don’t know if I can cherry pick the ones I want to live in. I don’t know if after I have chosen one, I will be stuck in it until infinity. I don’t know if I live upto infinity. I dont know if death is actually another name of life.

But I do know that grief is beyond infinity. Suffering of humankind – Dukkha is timeless, 

and it exists in every dimension of spacetime in every alternate reality. How many realities have I hopped on from… and still I haven’t escaped Dukkha.

Every reality is a new manifestation of Dukkha.

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu

“May all beings everywhere be happy and free, and may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life contribute in some way to that happiness and to that freedom for all.”

5 Types of men on Dating apps

The phrase ‘men will be men” does not apply to men on dating apps. There is a variety here, with each category has its distinct features.

1.       The Perpetual “Dick pic” Sender.

Not because he owns a big lighthouse but possesses a skill that enlarges objects in cameras. His photo library is full of such photos which he scrolls through while having dinner. He uses these pictures as an icebreaker. He has a blank profile with 2 photos- a gym selfie and a close up of a Martini.
 

P.S. His character’s name is “Bazooka” in his Play Station.

 

2.       The “Marriage Only” guy-

He already has a date in mind with you- much before he even matched with you. It is in the format of DD/MM/YYYY which is fixed for his marriage, has printed invitation cards, and the guests’ lists is ready. His extended family and friends are excited and his cute little nieces have their gowns stitched for the party. The only thing remaining to be finalized is the girl.
 

P.S. He doesn’t believe in fake news like compatibility, wavelength or chemistry.

 

3.       Emotional Tom with Mommy issues-

He is between 20-23, plays guitar, watches MILF porn and matches only with older women. He is on his first job, and over beers he tells that he wants to get to top MBA schools and work in a shiny office. His top Spotify artist is Billie Eilish.
 

After every date, he asks you to rate the date on a scale of 1-10.

P.S. He doesn’t pay for drinks.

 

4.       Sapiosexual anti- social Geezer-  

He is here just because he has no better place to be. He is grumpy, quirky, socially awkward and is addicted to his computers/ alcohol or being alone. They suck at flirting. They have been single for a long time and are so comfortable with it. They are confused if they want to date or just need a vent. They judge women on their general knowledge, and haven’t been to a cinema hall in the last 8 years. They send one word replies. They get blocked every 3 seconds by the Chinese.
 

P.S. I am one of them.

 

5.   The Real Man-

He is perfect! He listens, he cares, he pampers. He is good looking and one of his hobby is cooking. He makes you laugh and is good at what he does. He is well respected in his profession and doesn’t smoke. He doesn't waste your time in playing games.  The only problem is that they are not on dating app.
 

P.S. Because they don’t exist.

 

Which one is your favourite?

 

Truth is...

Why is Truth so painful

So disagreeable

So disquieting

So troubling

So isolated

So agonizing

So objectionable

Until I do not accept it.

 

The moment I accept,

Suddenly Truth is so beautiful

Like a scar that shows that it healed a wound.

 

I like scars

They remind that the pain is momentary

Just like Truth.

 

 

Loneliness is the human condition

“Loneliness is the human condition. Cultivate it. The way it tunnels into you allows your soul room to grow. Never expect to outgrow loneliness. Never hope to find people who will understand you, someone to fill that space. An intelligent, sensitive person is the exception, the very great exception. If you expect to find people who will understand you, you will grow murderous with disappointment. The best you’ll ever do is to understand yourself, know what it is that you want, and not let the cattle stand in your way.” ~ Janet Fitch

 

Blood Red Silence

I am alone and I feel alone 

I see the other side of the harbour and I know there is no heart beating for me.

 

I am miserable and I feel miserable 
I feel the cramps in the body and I know that they are not physically induced. 

 

I am in pain and I feel the pain 
Why is heart ache so painful? Why there is no blood visible?

 

In this city full of lights 

Why is everyone dwelling in this darkness without questioning the pain;

 

Why in this overpopulated city there is none to sit beside me and tell me that all will be fine;

 

Why there is none to talk to. I have so many stories to tell, so many jokes that I have written;

Why there is so much silence in this crowded city full of bars and restaurants and chatters;

Why is there dried blood in every pair of eyes, costly suits and fake smiles;

Is it Me who is sad or.......this city is...

 

 

Life, Death and my Pink Dress

 

I often think about Life
And Death.

Living means going to work and waiting for lunch time, rent payment reminders, always be sleep deprived, never winning lottery tickets, spending weekends alone in your matchbox apartment eating comfort food

Living a longer life means more wrinkles, knee pain and baldness

Whereas,

Dying means none of that. The absolute emptiness that transcends into the eventual nothingness

You see, I have figured out the Truth. All mysteries of life sorted. In my thirties.

Am I prepared for death, you ask?
Life has thrown me into such situations for which I was never prepared for.
A cheating partner, loss of job, change of countries, depression.
I am as ready for death as I have never been for life.
Is death as difficult as life, I ask.
 

I can sort everything in my life or death

EXCEPT one.

‘What happens to my Pink Dress when I die”

This lingering unanswered question remains in my mind.

I have shared my ideas, my body, and even food with people

BUT never my Pink Dress

What happens to my Pink Dress when I die

It is so dear to me that every morning when I open my wardrobe, I glance at its beauty
The times when I wasn’t ready for the world, it prepared me to face the ugly truth of life with its beautiful color and softness

I doubt if I’ll be what I am in absence of my Pink Dress.

 

So what happens-

When I die…

Will it be disposed off

Will someone else wear it

Will it be donated

What if a thinner girl wears it with a wrong belt and worst, wrong pair of shoes! Oh God!

What if a girl wears it with a red lipstick! Pink and red don’t go together! Please

I’ll be groaning in pain lying in my grave.

 

Will my mother give it to my cousin whom I despise; my soul won’t be resting in peace.
 

What if I die in a plane crash

While wearing my Pink Dress

Will they bury me, with my Pink Dress

Silk is 100% biodegradable, it will disappear in a few days’ time, oh God.

 

What if my parents decide to cremate me

I can’t imagine the sight of my Pink Dress being in flames

 

I am not scared of Death.

It is an ultimate Truth that I accept.

And attachments, cravings and desire, as Buddha says bring sufferings.
So if any of this Karma and Rebirth and Soul and God thing is real, I want to be reborn, with a possibility to wear my Pink Dress in the next life.

 

But honestly, what happens to my Pink Dress when I die…..