We might be on different pages;
But we're in the same book....

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Have you ever asked a man
how he is and he says,
"I'm alright.."
Let me tell you, that man is not alright,
That man is battling demons
you cannot even possibly imagine,
That man is struggling
every single day,
to find a reason
to keep going
and the reason we say we're alright
is because nobody really cares how we're doing
so why even bother saying it,
but you know what?
I feel you brother
because I too am alright....

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इतने बरस बीत गए
कि अब याद नहीं पड़ता
चंद लम्हों को फ़ुरसत से बैठकर
जीने का लुत्फ आख़िरी बार
कब उठाया था....

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You have been the "poster child" (pun intended) of the proto language phenomenon that has engulfed the entire digital civilization. What you've accomplished in such a short span is seldom seen elsewhere, so much so that you're considered a pop culture proponent of some measure. The way you can manifest as a commentary, parody or critique is of unspoken referential importance. Although unscrupulous elements abuse your talents in the name of (mis)appropriation but still your influence and your reach amongst an entire generation with a brief attention span, is second to none. I wish you good tidings.

Yours sincerely,
©Nirmohi

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the warmth
of eternal
sunshine

the abyss
needed someone
to hold the lamp....

-

Endings: An Ode....

Every story has it's trials and tribulations,
With a dash of tone, a sprinkle of tenor;
Their beginnings are facile too,
The initial surge of emotions
eventually paves the start
Which then overflows droplet by droplet,
into paragraph after paragraph
And before you know it,
you're almost there; the inevitable 'end'
But then stories never really end, do they?
They lie dormant, somewhere
Sometimes for a while,
sometimes for all eternity;
At times they play themselves
through the memory vinyl, goading us
to think, "Did it not end; the story?"
But eventually you realise that
endings, they don't really exist
They branch out from the trunk,
into new dimensions
Endings are synthetic,
an attempt to achieve closure,
To make sense out of a chain of events,
But then a story has to end, right?
And so we all struggle in our
collective quest for structure,
To somehow hash an 'ending',
where there was none to begin with..

-

What people see in a frame,
It says less about the picture
And more about them....

-

कुछ अलग सी है आज ये दोपहर
खड़ी धूप की बेबाक़ी, वो सुक़ून नहीं दे रही
आज ये सवालिया नश्तर बन कर,
पतझड़ के मस्ख़शुदा दरख़्तों से झाँक रही है..

शायद ग़लती मेरी ही है
जो मैं लहलहाती शाख़ों के साज़,
इन गिरते हुए पत्तों की आवाज़ में
ढूंढने की नाक़ाम कोशिश कर रहा हूँ....

-

मसरूफ़ रहते हो शायद
कभी वक़्त निकाल कर आना
पुराने पुल की मुंडेर पर बैठ
साँझ की खिड़की से
एक आख़री बार
डूबते हुए सूरज को निहार लें....

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जीवन के इस लघु प्रवाह में,
लहर न हो;
संयम हो..
बल हो....

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