Tuesday, July 05, 2011
On a chilly, windy night at a sleepy Railway Station, Amar Varma asks for a maachis. His hopes of lighting a cigarette went in vain, but it unexpectedly kindled something else – love.
Ishq par zor nahi, hai yeh woh aatish Ghaalib;
Jo lagaye na lage, aur bujhaye na bane.
He would soon find out.
Saturday, July 02, 2011
There it lay in front of her – hillocks and hills smothered with nature’s bounty of greenery. The rains had provided much needed succour to them. The greens broke out in all its vigour, and carpeted the previously ailing lands; lands which hitherto seemed incapable of hosting so much life, now teeming and bursting at its seams.
It was as if nature had prepared a palette of colours to enjoy – the earthy, wet browns; the variant hues of verdant and the skies ranging from pale blue to dark greys, interspersed with patches of white and light. And she stared right ahead, as far as her eyes could take her. And suddenly, it occurred to her – she was staring at her life ahead too. Things so near to you – clear in all its detail; and those far ahead – beyond your comprehension. You never know what lies ahead; all you can do is enjoy where you are; look around – smell the roses and live in the here and now. The future ahead is as hazy as the horizon you can see. With time, maybe you will visit those hills, conquer some or be conquered by some. Some day, you will reach there. And when you will look back, the yesterday will also seem hazy. As hazy as the tomorrow appears today.
Crazy, she thought. She went back to her cubicle, unlocked her computer and resumed staring at the screen.