Category Archives: just like that

Bliss


garmiyo’n ki dopahar,

baahar tez dhoop,

meri khidki mein kabootar yahaan-wahaan dekhta hua,

shaayad paani dhoond raha hai woh.

.

baarish chaar dino’n se hui nahin,

shaayad theek hi hai,

baadh ka keher kar chuka hai beghar kayi’on ko,

nadi ka ye roop magar kitna apna sa lagta hai.

.

main andar, computer par kavitaa’ein likhte hu’e,

nazar uthaa, ungliyo’n ko keyboard par rok kar,

dekh rahi hoon baahar ki duniya,

aur mehsoos kar rahi hoon apney astitva ko.

.

ghar ke andar ki thandak,

aur balcony ke ghaney paudh’on ke beech,

khidki ke neele parde mein se

andar jhaankti dhoop ki kirnein.

.

mere aas-paas, thandey farsh par,

so rahe hain do aise jo kabhi rehtey thay sadko’n par,

aur abb hain iss ghar ke mujh jaise hi hissedaar,

bol nahin saktey, lekin aankho’n mein hai duniya bhar ka pyaar.

.

ghar iss waqt khaali hai,

aur koi nahin hai insaan.

akele toh hoon, lekin akelapan kahaan,

kaafi hain tanhaayi aur ye shabd kahiin andar se nikaltey hu’e.

.

.

[Cross posted on the new blog.]

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Filed under happiness, home, just like that, poetry

Career


Sapney kam bhi ho’n,

hain toh sahi.

Log kehtey hain sirf naukri kaafi nahin,

career hona chahiye,

passion zaroori hai,

aagey badhne ki hodh zaroori hai.

Aisa kyun hai lekin?

.

Kyun hai zaroori aage badhna?

Kyun nahin bas zindagi ke saath behtey chalo,

nadi ki taraah.

.

Raastey mein kuchh gaaon milenge,

jo basey hain iss nadi ke liye –

wahaan se shaant ho kar behtey chalo.

.

Milenge kuchh vaadiyaan aur pahaad,

zindagi ke utaar-chadhaav –

wahaan se apna raasta khud banaate hue nikalte chalo.

.

Saath mein hoga waqt khud ko aage badhaane ka,

career mein nahin,

zindagi mein.

.

Ghoomna kitaab’on mein basi duniyaa’on mein,

aur asli duniya ke koney-koney tak.

Rehna kareeb asli zindagi ke,

aur rakhna paas unn logo’n ko jo dilaatey hain yaad ke zindagi kya hai.

.

taraazu mein tola jaaye,

ek taraf career –

museebat’on se joojhta, stress badhaata hua;

aur doosre palrey par zindagi –

jo bula rahi hai hum sab ko,

iss nadi ki har boond ko choos-choos ke peene ke liye –

aur taraazu ke theek beech mein,

naukri se aane waali tankha,

jo deti hai saadhan ye zindagi jeene ke liye,

lekin ijaazat nahin hai isey jeene ke liye.

.

.

[Cross-posted on the new blog.]

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Filed under just like that, life, poetry, work

Weekends


Kal shaam ko socha ke bauhat ho gaya

zaroorat hai aaraam ki,

theek usee taraah jaise ek khaali canvas

jo hota hai ekdum kora

usey zaroorat hoti hai rang’on mein lath-path hone ki.

.

Rang – kabhi surkh laal, toh kabhi shaant neela,

sooraj se bhi peela, ya phir naani ke baageechey sa hara –

ya shaayad satrangi.

.

Haftey bhar office ka kaam,

aur kaam hi nahin, politics bhi.

Jo raajneeti chalaati hai desh ko,

office mein aa jaaye toh kar deti waisa hi bawaal,

jaisa hota hai jab gir jaata hai raaton-raat bana foot-bridge.

.

Kaam ka phal, miley ya na mile,

tankha toh mil hi jaayegi –

yeh keh kar apne aap ko saantvana do bhi toh kab tak?

.

Shaayad theek hi hai –

paanch din ka kaam, robot ki taraah,

aur robot bhi rajnikant waaala nahin –

woh toh hero hai, hum kahaan.

.

Paanch din ka kaam, aur phir do din ki zindagi –

Khud ke liye ye do din, bina salary ke

kitney zyaada achhe hain unn paanch dino’n se.

.

“Choose a job you love, and you won’t have to work a day in your life” –

yehi kiya tha, lekin phir kya hua?

.

.

[Cross-posted on the new blog.]

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Filed under just like that, life, poetry, work

Conversation with my hairdresser – every blahdy time!


[Cross-posted on the new blog.]

So, what is it about hair-dressers all over that makes them want to do stuff to your hair which you most definitely don’t want done.

I’ve had the same conversation with almost every woman or man who has cut my hair in the last few years. And, it goes a little like this…

Me: (Getting hair cut in silence. Maybe browsing through a magazine. Mostly suppressing the crazy urge to make faces at the mirror.)
Hair Dresser: Why don’t you get your hair coloured?
Me: No, thanks.
HD: No, it’ll look nice.
Me: No, it’s okay. I like it all black.
HD: It’s dark brown, actually.
Me: Haan, and I like it the way it is.
HD: Just a few streaks. It’ll look nice.
Me: !!!!! No! I’m okay with it the way it is!
HD: Deep red streaks. Or maybe golden.
Me:: Listen, I don’t want any streaks, okay? Nothing. No colour, thankyouverymuch.
HD: But why, madam?
Me: Because-I-don’t-want-it-and-I-like-my-hair-the-way-it-is!!!!!!

And, no – I don’t have a single gray strand of hair. At least, that might’ve maybe slightly warranted such a conversation. I have straight, reasonably thick, shiny, healthy dark-brown hair. And, I swear – I still need to have this conversation each and every time I go for a haircut. Why, I ask?!

The other thing that has to happen is for the hair-dresser to ask –
HD: Which shampoo-conditioner do you use, madam?
Me: [Insert name of products currently in use]
HD: Hmmm…okay….

And, that’s it. Nothing else – no, good-product, bad-product, don’t-use-this-one, use-that-one-instead advice. Is this some sort of a conversation starter they’re trying out? Are they collecting data for some research? I’d really like to know.

Also, speaking of hair dressers, here’s a nice post about scenes from a beauty parlour.

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Filed under just like that

A sonnet of cats and dogs


Pic 221

Dedicated to Gabriel and Brandy. 🙂

 

 

A cat has grace that is envied by all,

Dogs, though, are “man’s best friends” by far.

We know dogs from feline grace do but fall,

Because cats do believe in being the czar.

 

We know a cat as dainty, proud and sly,

And also, as curiosity exemplified.

Dogs are playful, happy and the best ally,

And to stop wagging their tail, can’t decide.

 

But, to earn the trust of a cat is hard,

And, when done, is a feat well accomplished.

A happy dog is not tho’ such a reward,

But that doesn’t stop it from being cherished.

 

Never the twain shall meet, is often said-

Still, both of mine, each-other do sure dread.

© Aanchal Tyagi, 2010

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Filed under just like that, poetry

hai-ku?


You and me

Hot and sweaty –

Moving furniture.

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Filed under just like that, poetry

Blogcrastinator


That is what I am.

Link courtesy: The technologically-challenged workaholic who maintains her diary here. (Must read for everyone who accepts that they are workaholics, and for those who are still in denial!)

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