Lost and Found!

Long ago, I wrote this one for my college magazine, albeit in Hindi. I was looking at the news channels after a long time today and they prompted me to translate it in Hindi. I hope it still strikes the chord 10 years after it was first published.

Written was a complaint in office, that he was lost…

Then started the hunt, for what was once pleasant and flourished. Continue reading

Summer of ’99

I wrote this post for the first anniversary of Pallavi’s blog. You can read the original file here.

We were all born in the hottest city, and we were all coolest boys

Exams were just about over, it was time for us to turn the heat around

No one of us was mumma’s boys, so there was lot of singing and sound

We knew the best days were coming, it was summer of ninty nine…

The meetings on the grounds, the rides on the bikes

The evenings were with Samosa and chai, and nights with cream and ice

The world cup in England, the India Pakistan ties,

The mauling of Shoaib Akhtar and the victory parties under skies

We all were care free birds, no one cared about money and time

We knew the best days were coming, it was summer of ninty nine…

That girl who sat in the corner, I knew she was mine

We spoke on the phone, from morning till nine

And then when I asked her out, man! I was almost dead

Rehearsed my proposal million times, in the shower and on the bed

I offered my hand for a dance, we waltzed on ‘Yellow’ by coldplay

Her soft hands changed the meaning of touch, I began to sway

Oh how much I was in love, I didn’t know if it was a good sign

All I knew was the best days and it was a summer of ninty nine…

And then we went for admissions, the Engineering just happened

Some got admissions in the city, some took it away

the promises to stay together were now put to the bay

As they all departed one by one, the gap further widened

They all slept alone, with sombre moods and hearts saddened.

But we met before we departed, Jammed on a terrace with beer and wine

We knew these were the best days, it was summer of ninty nine…

Today all are busy with their lives, no one cares a dime

All sweat it out for decent living, from morning till nine

But surely some times an old pal calls, and offers a glass of wine

Then we remember the old days, afterall, it was the summer of ninty nine…

Why India?

A Hindi poem for you written by yours truly me. 🙂

England, America, Japan ghum aao,
India sa koi bejod nahi,
Kitna bhi koi advance kyun na ho
Mere desh ka koi todd nahi

Porridge khao ya sandwich, Pizza khao ya pasta
Firangi banne ka shauk hai hume, mehenga ho ya sasta
Kitna bhi tu jhoom le pyaare,
Nukkad ki paani Poori ka koi todd nahi

3 tier fly over ho ya multi lane highways
Banaya ho America ne to taarif karenge always
Rasta to rasta hai pyaare phir
Gaon ki galiyon ka koi todd nahi

Yahan kya rakha hai, muze to jaana hai America
Phir kyun na wo muze naukar banaye, main ho jaaunga wahi ka
Desh badlo chahe majhab pyaare
Apni mitti ka koi todd nahi

Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, Catherine ho ya Angelina
Sab bade sitaarein hai, apne yaha kaun hai?
Arre? Khan bhai to ever green hai pyaare
Aur aaj bhi Madhuri ki ek muskaan ka koi todd nahi

Akele ho to book padh lengi, khana bananeko cook rakh lenge
Pyar kise chahiye? Hum to aisho aaram se rahenge
Kitna bhi tu aish kar le pyaare
Thak kar bhooke ghar lautne par maa ki daal-roti ka koi todd nai

Orkut, Gmail, Facebook, VOIP ho ya skype
Jise jab chahe contact kar lo, bas naam karma hai type
Sahi keh raha hai par phir bhi soch pyaare
Chai samose ki saath purani dosti ke kisse dohrane ka koi todd nahi

Pardes to phir pardes hai, chahe jitna bhi achha ho
Har jagah hum bhi to pahuch gaye hai, phir chaand ko hi le lo
Ab sab ye jaante hai aur sab maante hai
Hum hindustaaniyon ka koi todd nahi

A dream

“You know a dream is like a river, ever changing as it flows.
And a dreamer’s just a vessel that must follow where it goes.
Trying to learn from what’s behind you and never knowing what’s in store
makes each day a constant battle just to stay between the shores.
And I will sail my vessel ’til the river runs dry.
Like a bird upon the wind, these waters are my sky.
I’ll never reach my destination if I never try,
So I will sail my vessel ’til the river runs dry.

Too many times we stand aside and let the water slip away.
To what we put off ’til tomorrow has now become today.
So don’t you sit upon the shore and say you’re satisfied.
Choose to chance the rapids and dare to dance the tides.”

PS: This is not my poem, but I read some where. The credits to the original author (if I find him/her)