Happy birthday Asbah 19/9

I've always been a fervent admirer of her work. For someone for whom writing was just more than passion ,she was a teacher. You got lots of things in life where you seek inspiration from other people. Trust me, she inspired a lot through her writings. She was a pied piper who has this strong tendency to attract people through her strong proses which definitely imbued something in people. A strong amalgamation of emotions,feelings and all other factors would define her work. She was a magician in her own way and offcourse she would drag everyone towards her. Sandeep and me had always been a strong admirer of this princess who hailed from the other land.

Sometime it makes me think I wish we belonged to the same land. Alas! we didn't. On contrary ,we possess everything and we were like minded. The intention behind creating this space was similar. A beautiful girl who would always make you smile. She was someone whose creative quotient was much high than other people. Where thoughts had words and offcourse those words would speak. We were completely taken aback when she decided to leave us. For this place ,she was an asset and for us someone who enjoyed a prime position in this place leaving us was a great loss.

Many many happy returns of the day to the sweetheart of the Writers Lounge. Happy birthday to Asbah aka Islex . Her birthday is on 19th September and my best wishes are always for her. Cause you know that we all here love you. You are the best .


PS - I don't have time to post this tommorow. So posting it today.. :) :) So lets the wishes pour for the birthday girl.... :)

Rains - 6WS on behalf of Asbah

1.To intense sorrow,From, Consoling rain!



2.To ultimate joy,from ecstatic rain!



3.Me and rain - lovers for tonight!



4.From the heavens.... to filthy puddles



5.Everything is destroyed!! The killer rain!!

TWL - Let there be light!

Nice to be back :-)

This place still holds the charm and one just needs to scratch the surface to see all the fun that we had when the lounge was at it's best. StepMan, Malan, 2 point someone, Microhumours, 55 fictions, Ste jokes by Arjun & me, Asbah's encouragement and her scribbles, Golu-Bhondu series, Ste's high voltage philosophy, Kajal's mesmerizing poems, Tan's magic, Leo's ownership, Freelancers never say die spirit, Chirag's enthusiasm, Nabila's comments, Aarthi's fun filled posts, Hashan's humour, John's rants, Nan's fiction, Rose's childlike exuberance, the Venky sisters casting their spell, Priyanka's soulful posts, Shruti's musings, Bhargav n Raghav's quizzes, contests etc. etc. Seems just like yesterday when I would be refreshing the page every hour and hitting the compose button with a sole intention of pulling Ste's leg and then wait for his retaliation. That obviously, was not the only reason for me to refresh this blog every hour. There would be posts waiting for contributors. Poems and story chains waiting to be picked up. It would be pure fun. One in which you could immerse yourself and come out refreshed, besides all the learning. Come the theme-based contests and I would have a blast reading all the takes on that particular subject. Getting judged by stalwarts and their comments on the stories would be the icing on the cake. TWL was such an awesome place to be. A writers dream and a readers paradise. The incubation ground for budding writers and a great place to make some awesome friends. That was TWL. One big family!

Somewhere...Somehow....TWL started taking a backseat. Life took it's own turn for lot of us. TWL ceased to be the place that it was meant to be. New members looked at this blog like a place where they could re-post the old content from their blog and add on to the comments that they had already got on their blog. And while they were doing this, there was no one to tell them what TWL was originally meant for. That it was a place where we connected over fresh posts and challenges thrown at each other, a place where we would await someone to start off a series and we would pick it up like a chain, a place where we commented and made friends, a place where we would share everything with the members who are like a family, a place where we would laugh and cry together and be there for each other in the darkest hours, a place where we would not push our individual blogs but let the readers come down on their own if they wish to, a place where it was not 'me' and 'you' but a 'WE', a place where we would put TWL above everything else!

Let's bring back the magic. Let's make TWL what it used to be!

P.S: Ste, am not going to feature in any episode of Roadies 8! ha ha ha...I just did a shoot with Raghu/Rajeev for a digital campaign we were launching. Check it out at www.mobileroadiehunt.com (log in with your FB and find out the truth about your friends :P :P)

P.P.S: Ste, zyaada panga lega toh Raghu aur Rajeev se maar padegi tereko :P :P :P ;)



Loads of love,

Sandeep Balan

Asbah

:) The name itself is enough to pull a smile from few of the old members out here. We all know how much we miss this beautiful lady. How much we miss her writings ?. But she should realize that she is being missed. When we both first spoke about a common platform thing for writers ,bloggers etc ; I knew that something big would come for sure. How come it won't be possible when two intelligent people on Earth  converse with each other regarding something big. I still remember  what all she wanted to do in this WL. Her aspirations,dreams and lots more associated with this lounge. I'm sad that she isn't with us at this hour. I'm sure she is offcourse reading all these posts. She preferes anonymity.

So when you post something here then  I warn you that someones watching over you :D .Hows the Lounge now? Does it really looks that good ? I knew its not as ausumn as the old one .Our main intention was to get back that old trademark look of TWL and its association with the black theme.Sandeep Malan Balan is busy branding stuffs as what brand managers used to do. It is said that he is going to feature in one episode of Roadies 8.0 .I don't know how true is this but it would be awesome to see him. Where have the good old members of TWL disappeared. I only see few active members? Where the hell is ARtz,Nabs,Prats,Leo,Kajal,Rashi and gang. I'm sorry if i missed out few names. Oh common we all have made it big ,so it is our job to get it going. I appreciate Freelancer for his contribution to the TWL.

I end up with a positive note that TWL will rock back again. I have a lots of expectation with you all...so don't disappoint

Love you .a.

May Almighty bless all,
Sandeep ,Asbah ,Ste

Princess.....

Pre-Script: Yesterday, I managed to do the "almost impossible"! I managed to cage the elusive Asbah for some time. And when I got her to write again, it was pure bliss. Here's the poem that was conjured...part by her....part by me! A humble dedication to one of the founders of the lounge.......the Princess of Arcane Lands....to Asbah herself....! Hope you guys enjoy her work as much as I do! :)

Sun rises to an arcane land,
Twilight cruises over classic skies,
With subtle grace descends to kiss,
The dewy petals of pink orchids!

The bees hum a strange fore-lore,
And leaves nod intoxicated,
Of love, of dreams, a tale of yore!
And a girl who was hated!

Beyond the pane of shining glass,
Caged by her self, she stares,
Her soul rambles across the land,
On scroll, her heart she bares!

Fountains of emotions spout,
As words escape her quill,
Papyrus damp with ink,
And tears of living against her will!

In her dreams she breaks free,
To rule beyond the horizon,
Where heavens paint the glee,
Where, the war has been won!

A prince, she awaits to set her free,
Every wish fulfilled with twin dreams,
Unknown to her, in silence he waits,
In her freedom, a lost soul he redeems!


PS: image courtesy - lusete @ deviantart.com

Happy birthday wl - from Asbah!!!

( ASBAH HAD MAILED ME THIS . ... .I AM POSTING IT HERE )

The second’s hand of the clock tickled away to glory, the minute’s hand followed and the 12 o’ clock arrived.

How WL can set me ablaze with the reds, yellows, blues and oranges, how just being there means oceans of ecstasy, fruitful dreams and rivers of love, and WL itself is a whole wide variegated world to me! How it had transformed me, a little girl shunned in her littleness into someone you all know now, it nurtured me, protected me, provided me the vent I had desperately need and that carious juncture I realized that it is the lounge that actually completes me.

We all dwindle in the maze of confusion, run and scream and never get the answers of the questions that we sought believing that good will eventually happen to us, expecting the unseen, unheard, unfelt joy would be at the end of the way, dreaming about the wishes that will happen as if we believe they will some say. That is our story, how we all hid tales beneath our collars, stories in the creases of our creases, and weave yarns as and when ever we can, how our finger-tips itch, we get overwhelmed by the words that can surround us, encapsulate us, overpower us! The sheer delight of writing, of reading, of the feeling that you’re a part of it, that you’re not the only person lost in the mist of the very foggy night! Where every hope is being fed to the pitch darkness, the lachrymal grief – every hope but WL!

I’m too filled with emotion, to the extent that I am in-coherent in writing, emotions, in excess, always do this to me – robs me of my coherency.

But then, I can never forget people who gave so much to me!

I’m late as usual :P

But I love you all, with all my heart!

And that I am so proud that WL’s one year old, I still harbor in me a desire to introduce my grandchildren will that of yours :P and to tell them the story of WL !

Love, Prayers, Wishes!

asbah

Time to Rhyme Tuesday! - Sandeep and Asbah

For the new members in the family who do not know what is Time to Rhyme Tuesday please read this.
Sincere apologies for the delay. I (Pink Orchid) was having my final semester exams but from now on we promise we won't miss out on any tuesdays. :)
So here we have our poetic dedications this tuesday for:

Sandeep (the guru) and Asbah (the angel)

Sandeep

The guru of the lounge
One who everyone admires
The mentor, the guide,
Giving smiles everyone desires

If you are down and under,
He'd be a friendly thunder.
A magician in disguise,
A gem, he's our pride!

********************

Asbah

A girl like her is rare,
Other chicks might at her glare,
with envy 'coz she is 'perfect',
without any sort of suspect!

She is indeed a great friend
A talent hub, an angel afar
Yet she can never be forgotten
in life, she is a treasured star

************************

With lots of Smiles & Sugar Candies

Vinu & Kajal

Wives & Husbands!

(This is Asbah's entry for the contest. Just posting on her behalf)
Pre-Script: Wife cursing the hubby

Wife: Udhar dekhiye. Udhar dekhiye. A brand new TV our neighbours got!
Husband: I know sweetheart, but don’t we have world vision? Why worry?
Wife: Udhar dekhiye. Udhar dekhiye. A brand new refrigerator Simpsons have got!
Husband: I know sweetheart, but don’t we have automations? Why worry?
Wife: (ghussay mai) suno na, the pados walay have bought a new home
Husband: Aray we have the wholeeeeeee world as our own! Why worry?
Wife: Pata nahi kab serious hu gay, guess what? samnay walay have a new car - kuch tum bhi socho na
Husband: Aray bholi begum, we can always ride for free, remember? Lets have some fun :D

*grabs her by legs and fly off to land onto the moving cow*
*and sings!*

Monorhyme - my take.

I dono what to call it, but err, read:

Right when the moon hung low!
and night was passing with a tread so slow,
standing b'neath the orchid's bough,
her cheek lit with a divine glow!
she smiled, she laughed and cried in a row,
and drown in his eyes, his brow!

when the stars celebrated the unison below,
the heavens cried, 'let it grow!!'

Love, had bought them a brillant show!



working on my take for Choka!

The chronicles of Greeting.

The whole evening of February 19th, 2009, we (Uzra & Asbah)  pondered over the eternal mystery of greetings. And in the  ordeal of Thinking, the less-common-trait-in-us, many questions  dared raising their heads in our minds. Wayward random questions like ;

1) What is Greeting?

2) How important it is to greet the other person in first  place?

2) What is the importance of sweetly greeting others? spicing  it with a smile ?

3) How about a prayer is offered as greeting?

4) why not rebelling from the usual "hey" or "hi" , “hello”  etc?

(In the confusion we forgot that we had repeated the question  no 2, twice and asked 5 questions instead of 4, have you  overlooked too ?? ;) lol! recheck)

We brainstormed with heads in hands, eyes on sky and gray  matterial consuming at the speed of light! and in the process  when the three hundred fifty seventh minute lapsed, a miracle  happened!

A vivid (Shocking-) Pink figure appeared to be reeling in air,  under the sky and above the ground. And even before we could  raise the slogan of “yayy Stepman!!! Superheroes ka baap", That  figure landed in his So-Very-Traditional-way-to-land, head down  and legs up!

It took him solid three minutes and forty five seconds to  figure out why the sky is beneath his feet and to decide which  way to stand (legs up or head !) and another bunch of four  minntes and 50 seconds to understand what we were saying (we  had to repeat each word thrice and each line twice to let him  engulf and assimilate the "dilemma") 

It was then, when he uttered a 'hi', (or was it 'Hello'??) we  realized what was consuming our thought-energy. Yes, Greetings. 

And while the realization was going on, he revealed the  'why-had-he-decended-down', because we were staring at him  asking for help (remember we've inculcated the habit of  thinking by looking up at the sky). We apologised by clearning  the fact that two of us were enough help for each other and  that we owed him gratitude. And the busy super-hero flew off to  find other needers of help :P

and we got back to the thought, generally we greet with a "hey"  or "hi" which if translated in hindi or Urdu would mean 'oyay'  or 'abay oo' very much unethical and inconvinient for a  traditional people like us

and we're so againt the idea of abusing friends just for the  sake of it, (we over heard a collegue accousting her best  friend as 'oh kameeni' (oh you moron), and we grieved!)

There is a very clear limit in between friends and enemies and  we believe that it should be honoured and preferred, and  treating both in a same way would prolly spoil the difference!

Lets be innovative and lets learn different ways of greeting  our best people, and that is obviously, with love.

Afrikaans: Goeie More = Hello

Arabic: Marhaba = Hello

Malaysia: Selamat Datang = Welcome

Chinese: Ni Hao! = Hello

Farsi: Assalamualikum = May Peace be upon you!

French: Bonjour = Hello.

Greek: Geia sou = Hello

Irish: Dia duit = Hello

Japanese: Ohio = Hi

Latin: Salve = Hello

Nepali/Indian: Namaste = Hello

Pidgin English: Gude = Hello

Portuguese: Ola = Hi

Spanish: ¡Hola! = Hi 

Vietnamese: Chao = Hello

so, here it is now, tell us what do you all think about it,  because personally we dont like 'HELLo' you greeting someone  with a HELL? tsk! but then, thats strictly our opinion :)

PS. Thanks to StepMan for being help :D

wishes and prayers!

Think innovative,

because, An !dea can change a lounge ;)

The Adventures of StepMAN: Blogisode 2

# Co-written by Asbah n Sandeep

Stephy had dozed off again. There was nothing dearer to Stephy than sleep. Even if it would be at the expense of seniors wrath at not attending the PDP sessions (Personality Development Sessions). No sooner had he dozed off that he started snoring magically magnified to deafening volumes.

Krghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh….pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee……krghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….krghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….snore followed by a whistle…Stephy sounded rhythmic even in his snores.

Meanwhile in the adjacent room, Chirag could not get himself to sleep. This rhythmic snoring was getting to his nerves. He had just moved in to the room adjacent to Stephy’s. He had heaved a sigh of relief when he had been allowed to skip the PDP session for today. He was bed ridden with high fever. Krghhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…pheeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…krghhhhhhhhhhhhhh…pheeeeeeeeeeee…the snores were getting all the more irritating.

“Abhe yaar!! Yeh kaun apne naak aur mooh ki varjish itni raat ko kar raha hain. Kambhakth sone nahi dete chain se. Seniors se chutkaara paaya toh yeh mahaashay ki aawaaz makhi ki tarah binbina rahi hain kaano main”, Chirag cursed his luck.

He managed to get out of his bed with much difficulty and walked into the adjoining room. His jaw dropped when he saw Stephy sleeping with his legs raised and arms wide spread. He was snoring away to glory. The synchronized movements of his pot belly and lips amazed him. Every snore was acting like a lever which would help raise his legs with each intake of breath. They would fall with a thud when he would breathe out, resulting in a shrill whistle as well.

“Yeh kyaa hain bhe. Kaunsi khet ki mooli hain re baap yeh!! Abhe oye mutton ki dukaan…Kumbhakaran ki chatti aulad….uth bhe mote. Abhe gubbare ki wholesale dukaan, yeh band kar yaar. Hadh ho gayi ab toh. Yeh toh hil bhi nahi raha yaar. Hmmmmm….Abhe oye miniature mount everest…hil…uth…jag…uffff!! Marr gaya hain kya?? Hmmm…let me open the windows at least. Thodi toh aawaz kam aayegi baaju ke room main”, Chirag said to himself.

He opened the windows which were tightly shut. He noticed that there were no grills on this window, unlike his room. Chirag made a last attempt at waking him up. He did not move a single muscle. Neither was Chirag able to move him by an inch. He simply lay there like a rock. Resigning to his fate and cursing his luck, Chirag headed to his room.

No sooner had he left that a monkey surfaced on the window. The smell of bananas kept on Stephy’s desk had forced him to climb up the building to the top floor. He jumped in and started gorging on the bananas. One after the other, he finished all but he was still hungry. He looked around for more food. Precisely at that moment Stephy turned around in bed and his blanket fell off. He was wearing boxers with pictures of watermelon, bananas and other fruits on the back. Stephy’s love for boxers with pictures was well known among people who knew him. The monkey could not resist himself at the sight of the watermelon. He had not had one in a long time. He made a dash for it and dug his teeth deep into the watermelon.

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaghhhhhh”, Stephy screamed at the top of his voice. He sprang out of his bed and made a dash towards the dormitory. “Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh…aaawwww….mummyyyyyyyyyyyyy!! Shoo shoo…hat hat hat….aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh…aaawwww….mummyyyyyyyyyy!! Shoo shoo”, Stephy was trying hard to shake away the monkey while still on the run. The monkey did not let go off his hold. He dug his teeth deeper into the watermelon. He was hell bent on eating it. “Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr”, came away the portion of the boxer with the watermelon on it, leaving a big hole on his back. The monkey let go and ran in the opposite direction with his catch clenched tightly between his teeth. He surely would have got an A grade if this would have been a crafts exam for the sheer perfection shown in tearing off only the picture of the watermelon from the midst of other fruits on the boxer. What a neat cut the monkey had made on Stephy’s boxer, leaving a perfect round hole on his back. Stephy was howling in pain. The monkey had really taken a dig on his back and it was stinging where he had just bit him. Tears had swelled up in Stephy’s eyes because of the intensity of the pain and he had lost all sense of direction. He was too scared to look behind.

A couple of rooms away Kajal and Rashi, the most organized of all, were preparing for their appearance in front of the seniors, loads of makeup, loads of extra bits of everything. Kohl. Mascare. Rouge. Gloss. Dressing up in the best way they could because they were asked to. Neha peeped into their rooms and shouted, “Room no. 215 in two minutes flat juniors. You better be there on time. Else you had it. And what is this you have done to yourself? We had asked you to dress up for a ragging session. Not for my wedding. Follow me. Enough of make up”. Kajal and Rashi left their room without bothering to lock it in a spate of hurry. Stephy had no idea that in his mad rush to nowhere, he had actually run into the girl’s hostel. The first floor of the girl’s hostel was allotted to the juniors and wore a deserted look because the juniors were entertaining the seniors in their respective rooms. The pain was getting intense and unbearable. Stephy desperately wanted to splash some water on his back. He still had a feeling that he was being followed by the monkey. His legs had started paining because of the marathon run that he had just been a part of. All the rooms were locked. He looked around desperately for an unlocked room. And there it was! A room which was inviting him within. Stephy did not stop and barged in. That was when he heard a monkey bark in anger in close vicinity. He got into an unlocked cupboard and hid himself. The fear mixed with the unbearable pain made him lose his consciousness. There he lay slumped in the cupboard with his mouth gaping.

Meanwhile in the same cupboard, a male spider was out on hunt for food, his two little babies and their mother was enjoying a comic series of spider-hero, ManSpider and waiting for daddly to come back home. Little did they know that daddy will have an adventurous journey back home. Out there daddy has just caught the heaviest of flies and was happy that he'll be able to feed the children for a week and he would enjoy the SWW (spider wide web) and would sip sappachino. But at that very moment, his 4th and 6th leg slipped, and before he could balance himself he stumbled, down down and way down. Nature has its way of deciding things and down he landed right on the tongue of Stephy’s open mouth. Stephy swallowed him. Down he went into his system and mixed with his blood. With great struggle, the male spider managed to hold on to one of his internal organs and claw his way back to his food pipe and from there to the outside world. Stephy coughed and turned around in the wardrobe.

Their wardrobe was the epitome of perfection. Neatly folded clothes, Handbags on one side, in the upper portion Rashi's colors and Kajal's cosmetic were decorously placed! And to add to it the beautiful smell of perfumes! What an ambiance! No wonder Stephy had gone into a deep slumber. Stephy twisted once again and as the consequence ended up wrapping upon his boxers the perfect knee length shocking pink skirt Kajal had decided to wear the upcoming morning. And that too, with luck, wrapped to perfection.

He stretched in sleep and his hand touched the shelf in the wardrobe and everything lightly displaced itself. Two things happened that very moment. Kajal's powder foundation was sprinkled on his face making him as white as a ghost. Rashi’s bottle of purging croton (jamalgota) emptied itself into Stephy’s open mouth.

That very moment the girls entered their room, completely drained after their ragging experience. Rashi headed straight to her bed without bothering to change. Kajal wanted to change to her night suit before dozing off. She headed towards her wardrobe to take out her blue pajamas.

StepMAN: Blogisode 2 (Prologue)

*Posting on Asbah's Behalf

Stephy...an ordinary street boy, dreams of becoming a superhero! Is it just a dream? Or an omen about the future luck? Will future change for him? will he walk in the footsteps of Musadi man! or will he be cursed - fused ?

Will the seniors rip him apart with their usual ragging? or will there be a Drastic change that our own super hero will bring! To save the day?

for that - wait for the second blogisode of StepMan - superheros ka baap!

What do you think changed life of an street boy and made him a super hero?

1) Destiny - it was written
2) luck - he cheated and changed what was written for him
3) the perfections in his stupidity
4) something else.

A Co-Write- edit!

We're not professionals, but we like creativity and experimenting! this is an outcome of instance poetry co-write experiment undertaken by Me, Tan and Rashi: please check and comment!

A: kuch is tarah say manzilain, mayre rastoun say ulajh gayin
sabhi faaslay simat gayay, teray gher ki rahguzar ke siwa

T: tera naam bhi tha likha hua kahin,
maine apni hatheli thik se dekha hi nahi
tu khadi thi shayed mere darwaze ke bahar,
maine khidki kholke kabhi dekha hi nahi!

A: tera naam thaa hatheli mai chupa huwa
mai apni hi dhun mai magan raha
tu ruki rahi mayre dehleez per!
tu chup rahi, tu nay kuch na kaha!

T: kahti bhi to kya kehti main?
alfazon ki ilm nahi hai mujhe ...
lab chup thi meri, lekin
dhadkanein bula rahi thi tujhe ...

A: mai dhadkanoun ki na sun saka
aur tanha tanha samay bita
apnay dukhoun ko khud hi khojta raha
ke ankhoun mai ashkoun ka ubherna kesa?

R: Khade hai dono paas paas.
hai beech mein bas ek deevar
Phir bhi hai itne durr kyon?
Hai pyaar phir bhi saath nahi kyon?
Hai darr kiska, jab saath ek duje ka?
Inkaar ka hai darr,
Na hai apne pyaar par aitbaar.
Khol do bas woh ek khidaki dil ki
Bol do labdo se baat dil ki.

T: Kuch batein aisi bhi hoti hai,
Jo hum keh nahi paate
Dil to kehna chahta hi hai, magar
Hoton taq wo labz aa nahi paate ...
Hume aitbaar hai uspar,
Wo ayegi kabhi to haath phasaare
Uski unglion me hogi humari ungliyan
Hum jiyenge kabhi, uske bahon ke sahaare...

R: Intezaar toh hai humein bhi
Aapke hathaliyon ki
Pyaar ki shuruvaat hoti hai
Izehaar se. Ikraar se.
Tumhare dil ki hoon main manzil.
Tumhare bahoon ki hai
Meri baahein takdir.
Kar bhi do ikraar apne pyaar ki.

T: Ye deewar bahot unchi hai,
Ye phandh ke main tere paas na aa paunga
Tere hoton ko chhune ki tamanna to hai
Par tere hoton ko main chhu na paunga.
Ikraar - e - wafa hum karein bhi to kaise,
Tere mang me phool piroye bhi to kaise,
Tere haathon ko chumu bhi to kaise,
Tere paas shayed main kabhi aa na paunga!

R: Bas itni hi hai kya teri deewangi?
Bas itna hi gehera hai kya
tera pyar?
Saato samundar, par karongi
Duniya ko bhul jaayongi
Kar loge joh tum is deevar ko phand

A: aoo gira dain ajj iss devaar ko
hamain judaa karay hain jo
aoo sath sath chalain zara!
zindagi ka youn lain maza

T: kuch is tarah say manzilain, mayre rastoun say ulajh gayee
saarein uljhane meri tere aate hi sulajh gayee
haathon me hai tere haath mere sanam
tere raastein mere manzilon se mil gayee...

R: Tum jo mil gaye, duniya mil gayi
Tum jo aa gaye, khushi chaa gayi
Pyar mila, Rahat mili
Zindagi mili, Chahat mili.
Jab pyar mila..jab mujhko tum mile!

Extended-Elaborated-Resolutions.

I am lagging behind I know, with plethora of posts to be read and posting my resolution Now, when one month's almost gone, Almost though! here: 

I thought of giving it a more colorful name like 'kaleidoscope' or a creative name like 'cross-roads' or 'milestones' or for that matter a cruel name like 'stones around my neck' but resolution are not stones to my neck, my rebellious self is too far from considering them any obligation on self. I am a free soul. I still resolve, and decided to call them resolutions. The list is provided herewith, not necessarily in this sequence.  

1)      I will keep on mourning the perennial lack of romance or anything like that, in my version of living.

2)      I will perpetually wonder at the numbers and figures that are strewn ubiquitously on the path of life that is stretched ahead of me.

3)      I will unconditionally love anything which is even remotely similar to homo-sapians and most of them will keep on proving that they're monkeys and apes.

4)      I will lament my singledom and crouched behind the iron walls of my fortress where no warrior dare enter, I will accept, acknowledge and cherish it.

5)      I will keep nurturing polar extremes ideas, notions, dogmas, beliefs, which in George Orwell's word are totally capable to cancel out each other and thrive on them.

6)      I will schedule, re-schedule, Plan and re-plan about planning and scheduling.

7)      I'll procrastinate.

8)      I will have the bouts of self-detest, with me hating anything and everything about myself, always followed by me kissing the mirrors – farewell narcissus!

9)      I will scribble endless love notes about a non-existent alien and rants and songs for Prince Eric and wisdom for blinds, deaf, dead – they are, to my wisdom, after all.

10)  I will play the little soft fairy and  be sad about the world.

11)  I will make sure the wonder of my eyes, remain.

12)  I will try to learn to learn to hate and to say no.

13)  I will keep the windows of my room ajar. Peter pan might come.

14)  I will try to respect myself and stop abusing it.

15)  I will give up trying to be like them. I and they are two parallel lines, the meeting of which is impossible, it can only be an optical un-real illusion.

16)  I will munch to heart's content

17)  I will acknowledge the fact that I am a total social retard, I lack the desire to talk to anyone new.

18)  Will try to learn to move on.

19)  I will delve into my appetite to break away and dream.

20)  I will pray if Allah helps me find refuge in His mercy and blessing, My only hope.

21)  I will seek for a shifu to help save me from being too much of myself. Its a disaster.

22)  I will look out for people playing games in name of religion and pray if iw ont be befooled by them.

 

Etc etc. and most important is self-improvement in all respects, I have made them follow-able this time, I hope I follow too :)

Belated, Happy new year people :) 

The Last Rain.

'at 5pm, I've an amazing surprise for you'

'wow! I can't wait, seeyou then'.

Click.

---------------------------------------------------------

 

She'd reached the rendezvous ten to five. He was very punctual. Guessing the surprise, she walked to the only shelter in the park and found a suitable place to wait and glance around, children were playing their frivolous games, people were jogging/gossiping; she soon lost interest.

 

Glimpsing at her watch in anticipation, she re-read all the sms, recited all supplication, plotted her new story, minute's hand was too lethargic to move on, ten minutes seemed like eternity.

 

Sun was bright but clouds appeared and it turned dim, she called him at 5 but the call couldn’t get through. She recalled, his cell was switched off and since it had never happened before, a wave of panic arose in her.

Slight breeze had started to blow, she could adore so in normal circumstances, but then all the fun seemed to be lost in the grass.

 

The clouds had taken over and it had started to rain. Ten more minutes passed, he was never late, the worst of fears started popping in her head, cascading her, and her usual rational self vanished. People started to leave and the park turned deserted.

 

After some more minutes, she was already crying, beseeching, pleading and praying to God. And exactly when it turned 6 the pain started in her lower abdomen, so severe and unbearable that she gasped while clutching the bench's back and yelled for help. Her voice subdued in the pitter patter of droplets.

 

The rain had made everything gray; flowers, grass, swing, their hue was drained off. She noticed a silhouette far away and screamed. The pain was getting worse, pulsating, piercing in her flesh ripping it apart. The charm was lost and death seemed to open its claws ruthlessly and coming near.

 

It was him. Grieved. Devastated. Two young men had forcefully taken his new car's keys at gun point some time ago. His surprise was lost in the slush-piles. Much worst awaited him.

 

It was too late when he reached there, she was almost dead. He knelt down and shrieked in-vain.

 

Rain concealed everything - their bodies and voices. 

 

 ---------------------------------------------------------

 

 

'click'

'close the lights, camera and sprinkler. That’s the best shot of my life'.

 

There was a round of applause supplanted by screaming.

Mona? Mona! Mona..

Ambulance.

Hospital.

Graveyard.

 

The movie was a super hit.

Eternal Wait.

The red and orange merge together in perfect harmony, twilight cruises over the classic blue sky and dew drop settle exquisitely on the lush greens. Moazzin's Azan fills the air, the clouds sprinkle colors and winds shed love bountifully on the entire universe.

Today is the festive day.
Today is Eid.

She is clad in aqua, his favorite; wearing the turquoise earrings he has bought her two weeks back - with mascara on her large almond eyes, rogue and light pink gloss. She is beautiful and looking gorgeous. He loves it all; she and her little things - his turn-ons.
I've gotten myself a pink dress and no earrings, I am not wearing mascara and I am not beautiful. Yet, this is still a festive season, this is still Eid.

She loves what he likes, she ought to. I love waiting and watching and waiting my eternal wait.

She gives her hands in his and says "here, now take me to the rainbow's end".

For me, there has been no rain since then.