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Friday, 17 March 2017

The Perfect One

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This post is in collaboration with Millybridal UK

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 She had chosen her prince after years of deliberation. He wasn't the man who could just do a neat trick or tell a good joke. He was a man of her dreams. A man who could keep her happy for years and years. She had met many who tried to fit the bill but, she knew in her heart that there was someone else. Someone who wanted to make her smile. Not just make her smile, someone who wanted to see her smile and let the rest of the world dissolve in thin air.

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 So, she wanted their wedding to be perfect. She wanted to glow on that special day. Because she knew that this day and hereon, everything would be different. She wanted to be born again on her wedding day. She knew that a man who wanted her to follow him was not her man. A man who had no plan was not her man. She knew that her man was the one who stood tall and held her by the hand. A man who wanted to walk with her, by her side. A counsel, a companion and much more than a friend. For such a man, she wanted to dress up. She wanted to leave no stone unturned. There is nothing wrong with a small ceremony. It is the happiness of the heart that counts. And she was counting big on it.

A Dress

I want a dress,
that has the moon.
Over which,
he can swoon.

Be it a ball gown,
or empire waist.
All doubt shall
be put to rest.

I want you here,
I want you now.
On this altar,
I want a vow.

A vow that you,
will value this.
And seal it then,
with the sweetest kiss.

I need you to,
stay up late.
I need you to
become my fate.

On this day,
under the sun,
I want you to,
have some fun.

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Get off that chair,
and let's dance.
And let's begin
a lasting romance.

I want our story,
in one big book.
Ever since you came,
darlin' I've been shook.

And I want this
newness to last.
"Can we grow old?"
Not so fast.

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Saturday, 21 January 2017

शहर किताब हो गया.

उस शहर के बाशिंदों का
रहना हराम हो गया
उसने ज़रा क्या लिख दिया ,
ये शहर किताब हो गया .
अब घाट भी वहीँ हैं,
और चाय भी वही है.
भीड़ भी वहीँ हैं,
बाज़ार भी वही है.
चिल्लाती भीड़ का नाम,
अबसे ट्रैफिकजाम हो गया.
उसने ज़रा क्या लिख दिया,
राजा गुलाम हो गया.
भूला भुलाया नक्शा
फिर सरेआम हो गया.
हर छोटी बड़ी झड़प का,
चर्चा तमाम हो गया
जो चुप रहा था अबतक,
झट अलीराम हो गया.
उसने ज़रा क्या लिख दिया,
यहाँ कत्लेआम हो गया.
सुबहें हमारी अलसी,
आँगन में बैठी तुलसी,
हवा रही थी चल सी.
बरगद का पेड़ भी अब,
बैठकमज़ार हो गया.
हर मुद्दा हर वादा,
सब दरकिनार हो गया.
उसने ज़रा क्या लिख दिया,
पक्का करार हो गया.
कुछ चंद लोग बोले,
सबकुछ ख़राब हो गया.
जो जानता था सबकुछ,
वो लाजवाब हो गया.
चंदा रहा ना मामा,
अब माहताब हो गया.
टेबल पे रखा मुद्दा,
निचली दराज हो गया.
बस्ती का हर बाशिंदा,
अब बादशाह हो गया.
उसने ज़रा क्या लिख दिया,
तख्ता तबाह हो गया.
लफ़्ज़ों का अल्हड़ हिलना,
अब वाहवाह हो गया.
उसने लिखा है ये सब,
वो खुद भी किताब हो गया.
उसने ज़रा जो लिख दिया,
मेरा शहर किताब हो गया.

Thursday, 19 January 2017

मेरी लिखी किताब

तुम्हे पसंद है ये क्या,
मेरी लिखी किताब है.
इसी में ज़िक्र है ज़रा,
के सिर्फ एक ख्याल है.
ख़याल यूँ के मैं अगर,
नहीं मिलूं कभी तुम्हे,
किताब हो किताब फिर,
या सिर्फ ज़िक्र-ए-हाल है.

शुरू नहीं है दास्ताँ,
अभी से फिर भी ख़त्म है.
ना जाने क्यूँ लगे मुझे,
न अब कोई भी जंग है.

यकीं करो ज़रा मेरा,
यहीं मेरा जहान था.
चलेगा किस्सा दूर तक.
अभी मुझे गुमान था.

अभी शुरू हुआ यहीं,
सफ़र तुम्हारा बिन मेरे.
यहीं खड़ा था मैं अभी,
के कट रहे थे दिन मेरे.

अजब किसम के दौर थे,
दरख़्त, शेर, रानियाँ,
के शौक़ ही कुछ और थे
मैं लिख रहा कहानियां.

अजब सा मोड़ आ पड़ा,
मेरी ही एक कहानी में,
ठहर सहम के रुक गया,
पड़ा मैं परेशानी में.

रुको ज़रा, इधर सुनो,
आवाज़ थी एक ओर से.
ठिठक मैं देखता रहा,
परी खड़ी थी मोड़ पे.

नज़र मेरी, वहीं पड़ी,
परी तुम्ही, तुम्ही परी,
“आग है वहीँ कहीं.”
तुम बोलती डरी-डरी.

मैं रुक गया, डरा हुआ,
“रुको नहीं, डरो नहीं,”
तुम हँस पड़ी, वहीं खड़ी,
“मै कह रही थी ये नहीं.”

कहानी ख़त्म हो गयी,
वहीं मेरी, वहीं मेरी.
शुरू हुई फिर ज़िन्दगी,
तेरी मेरी, मेरी तेरी.

सुनो ज़रा सा और भी,
कहूँ मैं बात ये पूरी.
के रास्ते के मोड़ से,
अलग ही दौर था शुरू.
बदल गया था रासता
के मैं था तुमसे रूबरू.

शरम नहीं, भरम नहीं,
परी ये कोई और थी.
के पंख इसके आग थे,
ये बात करने गौर थी.

हंसी हंसी में खेल के,
वादा ये मुझसे कर गयी.
ना जान के भी जानकर
ये रूह मेरी भर गयी.

मेरी लिखी किताब का,
हर लफ्ज़ तुम से जल गया.
ये जिस्म इक लिबास है,
मैं खुद तुम्ही में ढल गया.

Wednesday, 26 October 2016

Wordpress versus Blogger

This blog has been shifted to abhyused.wordpress.com

I feel that the shift to wordpress has to be made eventually. And the time has come for this blog too. 

Please find me on abhyused.wordpress.com

Monday, 24 October 2016

Book Review- Agniputr - Vadhan

ISBN- 978-93-86141-07-1
Title- Agniputr 'When Agni First Spoke'
Author- Bommadevara Sai Chandravadhan / Vadhan
Publisher- Bloomsbusy Publishing India Pvt Ltd
Price- Rs 299
Pages- 354
Cover Design- Graficus

This book comes with a lot of promise especially because it is a supernatural fiction book and is published by Bloomsbury. Harry Potter fulfilled those two criteria and we know the rest of the story. The cover design is perfect with a burning house in the background which raises questions instead of uncovering the plot.

Thursday, 20 October 2016


Chhatarpur is a sleepy town in Bundelkhand. When we think of Bundelkhand, we think of villagers defecating alongside dusty roads, cattle sitting in the middle of those roads, basically an India stuck in time. Chhatarpur is surrounded by such villages but it is better, cleaner, more developed than neighbouring towns like Bijawar, Tikamgarh, Gulganj which are sleepier and dustier yet.

The roundabouts in Chhatarpur have been recently installed with traffic lights. The main road which runs from the Post Office roundabout to the Panna Naka three-way, has dividers too. The vehicles in the town do not understand these foreign concepts though. They try to squeeze through whatever space they find. Everyone is in a hurry although everything they need is within a one-kilometer radius.

The shopkeepers in Chhatarpur try too hard to please you. Not because they are wily, clever businessmen but because they want to be your friends before they can sell you stuff. The local grocer would give you free stuff to taste, the clothes merchant would show you every shirt, the fruit seller would return your money if you come back with a mango rotten from within.

As a kid growing up in those streets, I realized that not much happens in the town. True, there are 'bad' locales where men fire country-made guns at each other but in the colonies, the schools, the colleges, the offices--Chhatarpur remains by and large quiet. People sit in their offices and sip tea to get through their days. Housewives divide their days in nap times and TV watching times. Growing up there as a kid was fun because we could play outdoors. We had a large grassy plot of land in our neighbourhood. Kids from other colonies would come and we would form teams and play cricket matches that resulted in lifelong bitter rivalries. Nowadays, the plots have been covered by buildings and the kids have disappeared from streets.

Chhatarpur also is the city of narrow lanes and densely packed markets. The bajariya is the main market area of Chhatarpur and one needs a lion's heart to navigate traffic there. The market begins from the main chauraha and continues to grow denser as one pierces unruly cycles, men walking in groups, cows, women sitting in rickshaws and all other traffic things to reach the main market center. There, one had to leave their four wheeler at the side and enter the paved lanes wide enough for one and a half person only. Certain daredevils take their cycles and motorbikes inside the bajariya area. Inside, one finds shops of jewelers one after another. It is difficult to understand why so many people selling the same thing open shops so close to one another. A motley crew of other shops punctuate the jewelry shops at places.

Then there is the bus stand. Buses from the neighbouring cities and sometimes Delhi and Agra ply regularly from here. Since Chhatarpur doesn't have a railway station yet, the bus stand is the only way to get out of the city for the daily wage labourers. A peanut seller stands at the entrance of the bus stand. People flock around him and try his peanuts before purchasing a packet of five rupees. He seems to lose peanuts worth at least two rupees to the shameless tasting per customer. How he continues to stay in business is anyone's guess.

Thursday, 6 October 2016

What I have for you

Go ahead, sweetheart,

Open the box. Unwrap it quickly, tear away the paper. I like your restless fingers as they run through the box. You may shake it vigorously and put your ear to it. You will hear some heartbeats. Inside it, there is some goodness that you had lost. A small gesture of kindness, a smile for no reason, a deep look into your eyes--it is all there.

My love lies at the corner too. It is the only thing that really matters. It is passionate, mad and whimsical. It repeatedly wants to be loved back but don't worry, it is selfless from inside. If you look at it long enough, it might make you cry. So look away.

Have you ever been kissed in public? Has it made the crowd disappear? Have you felt hugged? I am sure you have hugged but have you felt the hug? Well, here are some of those feelings in one corner. These feelings of mine, if you hold them correctly, will make everyone else disappear. They will be the only things that matter. So hold them only if you like them.

At the other side, I also have for you some sadness. When you dial my phone and the number is busy, when you sit alone and I am not in the room, when you eat alone my favourite food, at those moments, this little sadness will sit with you. Do not mind it though. It won't hurt until my love is with you. And as you know, my love is forever.

Now, close the box once you have seen the gifts, love. The gifts cost me nothing--just my heart and everything that I had. I had nothing before though. Now, I have you.