Category Archives: love

Hum dono… :)


kabhi kabhi shaam dhale,
jab baithey ho’n hum dono –
kabhi apne din ki baatein doosre ko bataatey hue,
aur kabhi bas aise hi, chup chaap ek doosre ko mehsoos karte –
dono ke haath mein ek beer ka glass,
tumhaare haath mein ek ke baad ek cigarette jalti hui –
tab lagta hai bilkul waisa hi,
jaisa lagta tha tab jab hum miley thay,
aur jaan rahey thay ek doosre ko, dheere dheere.

Yaad hai tumhein woh waqt?
art galleriyaan, starbeans ki coffee,
aur woh cocktail regent blues mein –
woh lambe din aur usse bhi lambi raatein jab sirf phone pe kartey thay baat,
aur shuru mein toh receiving mein bhi hota tha charge.
aur unn lambe din aur lambi raat’on ke beech,
woh lamhe bhar ki shaam
jab hote thay ek saath
hum dono.

kitney saal lage, kitne ghante,
kitne phone call, aur kitni baar hum miley,
aur dheere dheere jaan’ne lagey ek doosre ko itna,
ke vishwaas ho gaya ki yehi toh chahiye tha
zindagi ka jigsaw poora hone ke liye,
aur bas, kar liya tay ke tumse kabhi nahin bhi miley hotey,
phir bhi tumse na milney ka hota pachhtaava –
maaloom hota meri zindagi ko, ke ismein jis zindagi ko milna tha,
woh abhi tak mili nahin.

Tab se abb tak,
kaise aa gaye hum?
Humaare kal ne pauhunchaaya humein
humaare aaj tak.
aur ye aaj raasta bana raha hai
humaare aane waale kal ke liye.
Ye padh kar soch rahe hoge tum – ke kal hoga toh kaisa hoga?
Bas, aisa hi hoga, meri jaan – tum aur main, hum dono, ek saath,
aur humaari banaayi hui ye zindagi.

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Filed under happiness, love, marriage, poetry

Albums


puraani albums rakhi hain,

rakhi rehti hain,

aaj mein jeene ki zaroorat,

inhein kuchh bhula sa deti hain.

.

kabhi-kabhi padh jaati hai nazar inpe,

aur phir bebas hoke,

haath ruktey nahin,

albums khul hi jaati hain.

.

bachpan ke pal, diwaali, holi,

basant panchami, garmi ki chhuttiyaan,

kabhi aise hi baraamdey mein baithe hue –

tasveer’on se yaad aate hain woh saare din.

.

birthday parties, apni aur dost’on ki,

jinmein thay gubbarey aur streamers,

passing the parcel, musical chairs,

mummy ka banaaya hua cake, chowmein aur ribbon sandwiches.

.

garmi ki chhutiyaan,

dehradun mein naani ka ghar,

kabhi nainital, ek baar shimla,

papa ka birthday june ki garmi mein.

.

mera bachpan, mummy aur papa –

tasveerein puraani lagti hain,

par yaadein taaza hain abb tak,

aur rishta bhi rahega bilkul waisa hi.

.

ek tasveer hai jismein mummy ka hara dupatta hai mere sar par,

aur godi mein hai gaurav, abb saahil –

mummy ki nakal kartey-kartey,

tab se, abb tak aa gaye, aur kuchh badla nahin.

.

mere bachpan ka aadha hissa,

jiskey bina zindagi ka jigsaw adhoora hai.

aur phir hum dono ke bachpan mein ek aur ka judna,

jo abb lagti hai jaisey kabhi alag thi hi nahin.

.

dono door, apney sapno’n ko sach kartey hue,

aagey ki zindagi ki dehleez par khadhey,

phone par rakhtey hue hum sab ko saath,

dikhaatey hue apni nayi duniyaa’ein humein bhi apney saath.

.

meri zindagi ke jigsaw mein ek aur juda,

jo nahin bhi milta, toh zindagi ko hamesha lagta

ke kuchh hai adhoora, jis zindagi ko iss safar mein milna tha,

woh abhi tak mili nahin.

.

unn bhooli hui albums mein,

jud rahi hain humaari nayi yaadein,

digital camera ne kar diya aur bhi aasaan,

chhote-chhote pal, surakshit hain computer mein.

.

facebook par hum sab duniya se baant’tey –

apna rishta, dosti aur beshart pyaar,

humaari khushiyaan, aur ye bejod paagalpan,

albums dikh jaati hain, toh ye saare pal phir se jee lete hain hum.

.

.

[Cross posted on the new blog.]

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Filed under family, love, poetry

OMG!


Is it true, what they say?! That a couple starts thinking and looking alike after being together for some time?
:-O

We have two bathrooms at home – one attached to our bedroom, and the second attached to G’s dad’s room. Now, we both leave for office together every morning, so there’s always a rush to get ready, and bathrooms, thus, are a precious commodity. And so, I use the one next to our room, and G uses the other one.

This morning, I debated between wearing either a black dress or a sari to office. But not being able to decide on the shoes to wear with the dress, and not having the time for a sari after spending (a lot of) time on the ‘shoe problem’ – I eventually ended up putting on a black cotton button-down shirt and blue jeans.

And as I stand in front of the mirror, putting on eye-liner, my pest of a husband walks in to the room. I see him from the corner of my eye and turn around in shock.

He’s wearing a black cotton button-down shirt and blue jeans!!

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Sunday Mornings


You sleep till late,
while I wake early
and wait
for the slumber leading from
the excesses of
Saturday night
to end.

Or sometimes keep
peeping into our bedroom, while
getting ready, watering the plants,
feeding the cats.

Looking in, at you sleeping,
like you do,
your nose buried in your pillow.

Smelling like you do,
(as I keep telling you)
like a rubber balloon.

Waiting for you to wake
up. So I can see your searching
eyes, looking for me
to kiss your sleep away.

And then you sit
up in bed, wanting
your hot cup of strong
sweet tea, and the news
of the day.

And after that first
kiss of the day,
I go back to getting ready,
watering the plants, feeding
the cats, and waiting
for the next one that comes
when you’re getting out
of our bed, and starting our one day
together.

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Filed under happiness, love, marriage, poetry, Things that make me happy

The loveliest dog in the world


 

Candy

Candy’s 20th birthday is on the 10th of April. In human years, that means a hundred-and-forty years. She died yesterday, on the 30th of March.

She was the loveliest dog in the world. So human that she’d understand facial expressions. The slightest raising of one eyebrow would make her cock her head to the right side and look at you, as if to ask what’s up?

She’d go thirsty for hours, but wouldn’t drink water from a bowl. You just needed to pass by, for her to get up and start prancing around the sink, looking all happy and hopeful that you’d stop and put on the tap for her. And then she’d happily drink fresh running water.

We’d take her for picnics and she’d run around in crazy circles till she was completely exhausted. And then she’d sit quietly in the car on the ride back home.

At this same picnic spot, there was this little lake with pedal boats. Candy saw Mom standing at the opposite end of this lake, and wagged her tail and jumped into the water – and swam across to reach Mom. Of course, then she got stuck since she couldn’t climb out from the water on to the cemented edges, and looked at Mom with panic on her face – till she was pulled out of the lake.

Even though we had a male dog in the house also, she didn’t ever get pregnant till she was 6 or 7 years old. And the first time that she did, none of her pups survived. I remember taking 4 days off from school because she’d trust me to look after her pups. Also becuaes she was never a very good mother – would just get up and walk away while her pups were still feeding. All of these pups from the first litter would start shivering one by one, and all the other pups would leave that one alone – and then this horrid coldness that I’ll never forget, would start creeping upwards from their paws, and slowly each of them would just die. I held most of them when they were dying, and cry with Candy. One night, exhausted with the crying, I went to bed and left Candy on her bed with the pups, in one corner of my room. Another of the pups started shivering, and Candy gently picked up the little thing in her mouth, came up to my bed and put her front paws up and whined and cried till it woke me up. And I woke up to see her standing with her dying puppy in her mouth, and her eyes asking me to help her babies. I’ll never forget that feeling of complete and utter helplessness.

Candy would always know if you were upset. I remember crying with her sitting next to me, licking me gently.

Her favourite food was fruits. All fruits, but especially mangoes and papayas. Also, roasted sweet potato. Though I always wondered how they were her favourites, since she never chewed anything. Would just open her mouth, grab the fruit you offering greedily, and gulp it down. All the dogs in our house got two meals a day. But one of us would always feed Candy at lunch as well. After finishing our food, we’d take an extra roti and feed her whatever it was that we were having. And she loved it. She loved paneer a lot too.

Through the last 20 years, we’ve had other dogs too. But that’s all they were – pet dogs. Candy was like everyone’s baby. And she knew that too. When we got our Dachshund pup home, she spent the first 3 days being scared of this almost-hairless little black thing with long ears and a straight long tail. And soon she was dragging him around the house with one of those long floppy ears in her mouth.

She’s been steadily growing old, but the last couple of years saw her getting thick cataract in both her eyes. Her hearing went. She could always smell as well though. She had trouble standing up. And would sleep a whole lot. But she never lost her puppy-like happiness and jumpi-ness ever. Except the last week.

My brother spent two nights sitting up with her, trying to put water with Electral in her mouth, through an empty syringe. He tried papaya too. It looked like she was getting better. Yesterday morning, Mom gave her her medicine and she went back to sleep. Her breathing was raspy. And then around 10:30 in the morning, Mom was told that Candy wasn’t breathing any more.

Mom and Papa went to the community park opposite our house, dug a hole near the back wall of the ground, and buried her.

We all miss her. I can’t imagine a lovelier dog than her. And I’ll always wish I could’ve gone home to Meerut and sat with her sometime in the last week.

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Filed under family, home, life, love, the critters

From Couplehood


Remember this show – Mad About You, with Helen Hunt and Paul Reiser?

I used to love it! Am currently downloading the 3rd and 4th seasons of the show.

So, I found this book written by Paul Reiser. It’s called Couplehood. And, it’s typical Paul Reiser! And, I love it!

Here’s an excerpt:

“…the way I figure, there are two types of people: those who get it and those who don’t. If they get it, there’s nothing to explain, and if they don’t, there’s no point in trying to explain. They don’t get it. Move on.

But I remember thinking that if you’re going to be with someone, you should find someone who gets it. And someone who fits.”

Interesting thing: Ask most guys why they marry the woman they do, and they’ll tell you, “She’s the first one who called me on everything.”

All the things you tried to get away with in the past, all the games you designed and mastered for the express purpose of keeping people at arm’s length were, it turns out, all just a weeding-out process, a search for the one person who doesn’t fall for it – the one who can sidestep your tricks and see right through you. And, ironically, you’re not upset. In fact, you’re impressed. You think, “Wow, good for you.” And the message goes forth: “Okay, no more calls, we have a winner.”

See, a lot of times we’re just clueless. We walk around, scarred from previous relationships, thinking we’ve learned something, when in fact, things that may have been deal breakers in the past may not even bother the person you’re with now. (Learning what actually bothers the new person is how you spend the rest of your life.) But there is this need to disclose potential problem areas.

“I snore.”

“That’s okay.”

“No, but I snore in odd, little rhythms.”

“Doesn’t bother me.”

“I once snored a medley from The King and I.”

“My favourite musical.”

“Alright…I just thought you should know.”

And you keep raising the ante. Not that you want to scare them off; it’s just that if they’re ever going to leave you, let’s get it out of the way now.

“You may notice that in the bathroom, I tend to flush a few seconds before I’m actually done. I don’t know why, I just do. And there’s no way I can change. Do you understand this? Can you accept this? Because it has cost me dearly in the past.”

And she still hasn’t changed her mind.

So, you think, “Maybe this’ll work.” And ultimately, they find out everything:

How you chew, how you sip, how you hum, how you dance. How you smell at every point in the day, how you are on the phone with your mother, the fact that many of your friends are shallow, that you always have to sit on the aisle, how you never really listen, how whiny you get when you travel, how you’r enot gracious to her friends when they call, how certain game shows make you really really happy, how cranky you get because you’re too stupid to remember to eat, how you manage to get confrontational only when it’s with the absolute wrong person to be yelling at, how you don’t like the way you look in any picture you’ve taken since 1974, how you’re unable to get off the phone when you’re running late because you don’t have the ability to say, “This isn’t a good time; can I call you back?” How you have to lick certain fruits before actually eating them, how you have no ability to save receipts – all these things, and they still want to sign on. They still like you.

This feels good. For about a minute.

But the next thought is, “Wait a second, why is she being so understanding? If this stuff doesn’t faze her, her stuff must be even worse … Oh God – what don’t I know?”

And every day, bit by bit, you find out.

True, no? 🙂

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Filed under literature, love, marriage, prose, quotes

Living alone again


It’s been almost a year and a half since I lived alone last. I did that for about six years, and used to quite enjoy it actually. And then G and I got married, and I got used to living with him. So used to living with him that I don’t know what to do with myself when he’s not here.

He left for London today. Will be back in ten days.

I’m already bored.

Especially because I couldn’t get to office today. Because of the Gujjar agitation and the NCR bandh.
So I stayed home but did office work mostly, watched the news like an insane person to see if roads were still blocked, did some more office work, took a nap, more work, watched TV, dinner, still more TV, and now back to work again. And I haven’t watched THIS MUCH television in the last two years!

Now I’m thinking, is it a good thing that I’m so used to G that I’m this bored without him, or is it really bad to be at such a loss for what to do when he’s not here, and it’s just only been a day since he left?

Tomorrow should hopefully be better because I’ll be in office mostly. But then again, who will I call everytime I want to tell a funny story, or talk about something that just happened, or something someone just said, or everytime I want to bitch about someone, or everytime I’m trying to think of a song I like but can’t remember the words to? So, yeah – I shall be missing him. That’s what I’m gonna be doing for the next ten days.

And. I REALLY need to start liking living alone again. Especially since this time it isn’t in a one room barsaati, instead it’s a nice pretty house. And this time there is our maid, who cooks really well and makes sure the house is nice and pretty.

I think I’m missing G so much because I know there are another 10 days to go. *Sigh*

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