We are inherited to create divide!

For over a decade we have been talking, writing and even reading 'Muslim' and 'Hindu' as prominent words indirectly and at times directly pointing out to the respective religious credentials and perspectives. It seems like time has come to remove "secularist" from the official introduction to republic of India. More than what you are and what you do, your place of worship and what you eat matters significantly.

Almost every third morning I read a headling in the daily claiming some Hindu, or a Muslim, or any other community is being highlighted for his/her deeds and misdeeds. Why can't that individual remain a person in our country and receive his/her share of appreciation, accolade, or abuse for what he has committed or tried to pursue?

Are we really secular? We denegrate the integrity of our nation by expressing both good and evil with an expensive tag of the subject's community. And, what we add is nothing more than a doubt in every reader of that headline to either change or try to alter his perception towards 'that' particular outfit of religion.

We need to change the way we express. India is a sensitive nation, a small spark to the sentiments of an individual over his religious beliefs could set large cities into communal pyres and destructions.

one of the undelivered couplets

"The Last Song"

I will swallow all the pain

Your name runs with my breath in every vein

Million thoughts cross with the blink of my eyes

A new string of hope comes when the sun rise  

Never felt complete except being with you

You made my world entirely different and new

Let the water of all oceans dry

May stars loose up shining in the sky

Let lilies turn to a silent desert

Though eternity marches the mighty assert

Stones will halt the flow of stream

I will never open my eyes watching your dream     

I ask maker why you are not made for my fortune

You are the flute who made this piper a better tune

Days ended with your sorrows, begun with your noise

Today I crave, I beg for your mildest voice

Spare me from distance and take back this exile

Want to embrace you for a little while

Please, hurt me when you are alone

But, never let me find that you are gone

For you, I want to sing the same old line

Want to see our same moon shine

Beneath my world of darkness, you are light

Cherishing your memories I live sleepless night

Few hymns are memories, will wash in tears

Your silence crushes me like arrows and spears

Miss those days when we both shared the amuse

Baby, you are the only one I call the muse

Neither your eyes lie, nor my heart is wrong

I just want to say love you with this last song

Kabira: Love

Kabira: Love: love is a beautiful feeling.. when warmth of the person becomes healing.. The charm of being alone disappear, when eyes of care sting t...

Love

love is a beautiful feeling..
when warmth of the person becomes healing..

The charm of being alone disappear, when eyes of care sting through your lear..

The snow becomes sweeter than ever, when you prefer moon over sun forever..

There exists no road that you can ever miss, for the first time you held her high to kiss...

Love is an amazing feeling, when secrets are themselves revealing...

the stroll of understanding chains the mind, no matter what you go through you seem always kind..

A moment you guard yourself in a precinct, maps her heart n words with your instinct..


When the sleepless eyes are adored, the eternal predilection is never bored..

Love is a strange feeling, the loss of touch is more than killing....


A distance turns the desires more eager, but the hope always wins its wager..

There is no bond and no partnerships, the conversation makes coffee leave no more sips

The earnings are shared with lure, celebration to both never fails to allure..

Love is an untainted feeling, when gloom runs away like a peeling..

The messenger is treated like a god, when waiting to hear her make you stand on the hedging rod..


Lavishly you hold her throughout the walk, her mystic childhood you always like to talk..

There is no sweet goodbye before the night, to stay back just one moment you are ready to fight...

Truly, love is a magical feeling..
 

meri udaan!!!

Zarur aaj meri aankho nein halka sa pani hai, magar Maine mere waqt ko badalne ki thani hai..

Ab dosh nahi Dena in lakeero ko, na thaame rakhna hai in uljhi takdeero ko..

Kadmo mein mere jaaga naya josh hai.. Aarzo meri ek baar jeene ko madhosh hai..

Ek pal ki raah zara kuch der se nigahon ne taki hai,  mere armano ki zindagi, thodi si aur baki hai..

Ek junoon ka sahil lazmi hai ab umadna,
Bichhre pal se nahi, kal ke lamho se hai ab ladna..

Ek din to bharunga mere sapno ki udaan,
Tab karega sajda mera jhuk kar yeh aasmaan.

The best smoke of life !!!

At times, I feel about the state of mind a person has; the mode he gets into for different circumstances, for distinctive situations, and for the number of ways he is asked to react. Well, recently I'd been to Mcleodganj, Dharamsala in Himachal Pradesh; probably an unexplored destination yet to be commercialized like other states especially Gujarat, MP, or Kerela in India.

One peculiar thing about the place is peace. People simply love walking up the hill to find a place, just to sit and smoke marijuana or hash a.k.a malai- the world famous charas from Manali sold to various parts as manala cream. Varieties of Chillum, synonyms of the lord Shiva, posters of Hindu Gods, praises scribbled on the rocks worshiping the Mahadev, unmatched psychedelic trance, fumes of coffee, aroma of momos, and the noise of the waterfall can lure anyone to fall to try out the smoke which is claimed to have been the passion of Mahadev.

Me and my friend tried the much talked heavenly cream, and believe me, it was the best state I ever got into. My mind opened up and surely it was not merely a psychological instinct that I inhaled a prohibited drug, but it was purely because of the black stuff that was undeniably magical. Pristine set of completely unharmed thoughts started rushing through my head, the serenity started flowing to each of my veins, and untainted clear view of life appeared in my subconscious.

The doping you call it, or whatever, but the meaning of my life and the reason of my existence kept flashing to me over n over again. There were certain truths which were kept hidden beneath the blanket of disapproved beliefs, mistakes which never happened to be pardoned of, love that never ended but halted n thrown away somewhere in the middle of the road, those desires which are burnt alive several times every day, the difference between good and bad, the predominating existence of the god, and so on. All these things came alive with answers when the burning tobacco carrying the black powered touched the throat to reach the heart just before hurting the lungs.

Purely magical in its creation, I bow to the person who found the best doping substance which a person can readily accept until he/she surrenders to it. It shows the meaning of life and takes you to your state of mind where you meet the real you, at least for sometime if not always.

Try out some smoke in the chillum made of ceramic or wood having the silver base. Do not forget to cover it with a rag so as to avoid hurting yours lips and a better grip to hold.   

Mumbai- The city of extremes

Saline summers and pouring wet rain

Although humid, mornings jostle in local train

Stones molded with Vintage bricks of shire

Yet the city unchained from world always on fire

Stocks and business plunge with dailies headlines

Where million slumbers shed under traffic lines

Big apple of India known for money valour

It sleeps when nights wake up by parties of glamour

Lights, camera and action defines an ordinary day

And prayers to film stars send gods in dismay

One roof stands high that cost a fortune

Uncounted people live under rigged steel dune

God of beginning to the legendary cricket master

Dances on the same beats, clamours the mumbaikar

Mix road side clothing, street food and night club

 City is bald and wear nothing- calls it a fashion hub

 

Islands of love came together to form the best

Bares to unimaginable pains, but she never rest

A new voyage it sojourns welcoming onshore alibi   

City of extremes, an ineffable Amchi Mumbai