Clothes ready to wear people

Drying in the sun

हो रहे तैयार
कपड़े
इंसान पहनने को
धूप में
सुबह
फिर से जीने को
हैं तैयार

आज कौन होगा
कैसा होगा
हर के नाप का एक है
एक घर है
एक इंसान है
जिसकी ज़िंदगी को जीने
हैं तैयार

उसकी महक
उसकी गंध
अपने में पिरोए
कभी उसके
जाने के बाद
महकने को
हैं तैयार

कभी नया
कभी पुराना
उस मौक़े के लिए
या किसी की याद
हर लम्हे
को लिए
हैं तैयार

आस्तीन में
छिपाये आंसू
ख़ुशी के
दुख के
वो सारी धड़कने
हाँ सब ओढ़े हुए
है तैयार

आज जल्दी उठे हैं
सुबह
धूप में
कुछ छिपाने
कुछ सजाने
ज़िंदगी का मज़ा लेने
हैं तैयार

lenge udaan, Nange Paon

Picture credits Pinterest

कौन सा बोझ
लिए चलते हैं
कंधों पे
कभी दिलों में

साथ चलता दरिया है
छलकता साफ़ पानी है
चलो थोड़ा रुक जाएँ
कुछ देर ही सही

वो सर पर रखा
जो भारी बोझ है
कुछ देर
उतार दें ज़मीन पर

फिर सोचा
किसने देखा है
इस दरिया में
चलो बहा दें

और फिर बैठें
कुछ देर किनारे पे
देखें उस मैल को
घुलते हुए, बहते हुए

और जब हो जाए
पानी फिर से साफ़
जब दिखे आसमान
नीला और खुला

तब लेंगे उड़ान
बादलों में
हवाओं में
नंगे पाओं

Buoyancy of Joy

The smiling stress ball

This post was written in 2018. Wouldn’t remember the exact date of the scribble. Who really knows when did it get itched in the mind. The trigger was a stress ball which lay scarred in a corner, yet retaining the smiley face. It was published on this blog first on 12 Oct 2018. Re-Posting it to share with all of you who read. Maybe it would resonate.

I hate myself!!

Mukti spoke aloud. The utterance did not even make a ripple in the green surface of the still water in the pond. She did crave for appreciation but she never expected so much hate from her colleagues. It was as if they were waiting for the opportune moment for the hate to fructify. So called friends, were exposing the cloaked fire of jealousy. The gloves were off and the fangs were exposed. Suddenly, she was amidst the werewolves. Silently gnawing away the meat from her calves as she dragged herself up from the blow of reality which exposed the masks. The real faces were gruesome.

It all started from the ‘rise’ in her popularity in office. Display of her multiple facets and new levels of performance split the people around her into the opposing camps of ‘Liking her’ and ‘Jealous of her’. As she drew her joy from the accolades of the ‘Liking her’ camp of people, she also enjoyed the misery it caused to the ‘Jealous of her’ camp. This misery was the root cause of the hatred towards her from the ‘Jealous of her’ camp. This misery was turning out to be a greater source of her joy and she thrived on it more than the accolades from the ‘Liking her’ camp.

More she relied on the misery of her detractors as a source of her joy, more miserable she felt. She, kind of absorbed their misery. She no longer felt any joy from the appreciation of her friends, rather she felt the anxiety of not scoring over her detractors, far more.

Her core was being consumed by this reflected misery and soon she started sinking in self loath. She was sinking into depression. And ironically as she sank into this gloomy depths, she saw the joy in her detractors, which further pulled her down to greater depth.

As she was in the throes of her depression, she found herself at the steps of the temple pond. The waters had become murkier as though mirroring her mind.

The stress ball, counter intuitively shaped like a smiley was being gnawed by her nervous finger nails. The smile pasted on the ball was ironically making her more irritated as it seemed to mock at her.

In a fit of revulsion, she flung the spongy ball into green thick water of the pond.

The yellow colour stress ball remained buoyant over the green surface of the pond for a while. The viscosity of the murky pond keeping it afloat. However, the jubilant joy was short lived as the spongy core of the stress ball, ill shielded by the porous skin, started to absorb the surrounding filth. It remained buoyant till its core was filled completely by the green filth. That was the time the stress ball started to sink. The essence of the bounce was lost. It sank rapidly to the slimy bottom of the pond. Deeper and deeper in the vicious depressing abyss.

As the last of the smiley on the yellow ball got subsumed by the green slime, the yellow stress ball taught her what Archimedes understood in a very different context. A lesson no self-help book or a psychiatrist would have explained or applied. She learned, or she was revealed the secret law of the ‘Buoyancy of Joy’.

Buoyancy of the stress ball, as per physics, is dependent on the effect of gravity on the water surrounding it. This differential downward pull of the gravity on the water in turn pushed the stress ball up, thereby making it feel buoyant. The fall, therefore, of the surrounding water gives the up thrust which kept the stress ball floating with joy. Interestingly, like the dead Sea, greater the density of the surrounding water, greater is the buoyancy. The stark similarity with her own life was uncanny.

More the grief in the surrounding, greater is the buoyant joy one experiences. She remembered how she felt buoyant with joy as she received the positive feedback and appreciation from the people around her. So much so that, the awareness of the jealousy among the people who she lived and competed with was also a source of greater glee and joy. The effect pretty similar to the increased buoyancy of the murkier water.

The sight of her detractors being unhappy was the buoyant force which made her joyous as, she rose higher on her popularity. She rose higher as, she lived of the ‘likes’ and also the ‘jealous grouse’. Therefore, she felt ironically full of gratitude for her detractors to provider her the buoyant joy. She also realised that slowly she had started being affected by the crave for her detractor’s unhappiness.

She observed how the stress ball was invaded by the outside water and it lost its exclusive identity. It was filled by the similar heaviness of the surrounding. The gravity which was relatively more on the outside, was now within the stress ball. It therefore, no longer felt the buoyancy. It sank deeper and deeper into the murky depth of the pond till it settled on the mushy floor the pond. There it rested in the depression created on the floor by its own weight.

It dawned on her, that to remain buoyant, she should not have allowed others to affect her. Just like the murky waters entered the spongy core of the stress ball, the negativity had invaded her. It made her lose her buoyant joy. It made her lose her ‘me-ness’. The negative emotions outside started mirroring the same emotions within her, it replaced the happy emotions with the heavier, darker and sad emotions. These heavier, darker and sad emotion were dragging her down the murky depths towards her own created depression.

She also realised the futility of relying only on the external feedback for her joy, since it could only raise her up to the level of the external expectation. Just as the stress ball relying only on the water for buoyancy, can only rise till the level of the water. Her fate was like the floating stress ball bobing up and down at the water surface based on the expectancy of others. Her joy was hostage to others ‘likes’.

Just like the porous skin of the ball, no skin is so resistant to sustain the onslaught of this external invasion unless there is an internal pressure that keeps the water out. She needed to find her belief in the ‘me-ness’ that pervades the inside. Only her essence was capable to raise her beyond the petty level of the others ‘likes’. Our ‘self-ness’ is self-buoyant, willing to soar irrespective and oblivious of the forces outside – favourable or not. Soaring not particularly above but in the direction that is mine.

The state of the stress ball either soaring high and rising above the limits of the water surface or the stress ball placed on the mushy floor of the pond do not guarantee joy or grief. For the soaring ball, as the buoyant force propels it higher, the threat of a grand fall looms larger. The ball continuously seeks loftier heights after every rise. At the same time, the sunk ball calmly sitting in harmony with the slimy floor may find solace in the vast opportunity the state offers. Therefore, the state of joy has no relation to one’s state but is more related to one’s view towards that state.

Buoyancy and gravity, she realised, both lead to movement which were relatively opposite to each other in direction. The end state of both was subjectively judged as favourable or unfavourable.

It was her moment of realisation to perceive the joy in going beyond the forces of buoyancy and gravity.

She found herself connected to the blissful stress ball which lied calmly at the bottom of the slimy pond. She had experienced the eternal truth.

Mukti rose joyous, glowing within. Glowing with the ‘buoyancy of the real joy’.

Yes Wahin (हाँ वहीं)

My garden sky

हाँ
जाना है
वहाँ
तुम हो जहां
और
हो वहाँ
बस
अपना
वो गाना
जो सुनाई दे
सिर्फ़ हमें
जो ना
छेड़े
मखमली तनहाइयों को
जो हम ने ओड रखा है
हाँ
वहाँ सो जाना है
जहां
तुम्हारी धड़कन हो
और
तनहाई

The Grand Union (Sayujyam)

The majestic Lions

In middle of the night
or in the morning early
Hurtling down we came
With speeds
of tingling expectations
Through the winding roads
of concrete and tar
and through wistful misty memories

In the courtyard
we gather
Some having
wise greys in the black
Some happy with
Few strands of blacks in the greys
Every strand, however
Telling different stories

There we mingle
a part of every memory
a carefree child
In every worn eyes
nostalgic eyes searching
for those moments in past
Vivid they are, in the Now
merging seamlessly with yesteryears

The house stands testimony
Of happy and sad
every laughter, every sob
The dip in the pond
and those mischiefs, unnoticed
Aware of each past moment
that crowd into this moment, Now
bound in a unwritten book of stories

Bound and connected
In a single strand
The beads of a clan
with mingling bloodlines
Yet thicker are the thoughts
and feelings that they brought
For that will linger when all leave
In this silent house, full of memories

There we are
Bidding goodbyes
Some travelling far
Some close by
Separated by distance
Bound, yet with feelings
With promises to be back
to strengthen these bonds

The house witnessed it all
the placid pond heard it too
The worn out steps held us back
Majestic lions at gates, hid their emotions
As I took a final look back
hidden, in the white canopy
And glorious decorations
I think I saw the house smile

The nostalgic pond

Ho shayad woh kharra

छोड़ दूँ
वो सब
जो तुम्हें
लगे बुरा

कुरेद कर
नोच कर
जो बचे
हो शायद वो खरा

और ना बचा
कुछ अगर
तो बस रहेगा दिल
मोहब्बत भरा