The Story of the Desert

"Let's play a game!", he said. "Let's pretend you're the princess of desert and I'm the knight from across the seas."

So that's what she became, the princess of desert. Surprisingly, the otherwise unyielding desert agreed to play along. Together, the desert and the princess waited for the knight.


Very early every morning, they dressed up in molten gold and pretended to be angry half the time, remorseful the other half. Bored in a few hours, the sleepy desert half-opened its sand-dune eyes, and went back to its afternoon nap.

"Winds from across the seas will bring my news", he had said. And she thought she could hear waves crashing against the shore. But the winds never brought any news. (Though sand in her eyes hurt like held-back tears, and it had a curious pungent taste, too.)


So they waited till sundown, and the desert draped her in a dusky red velvet. "Even stars will celebrate the day we reunite". (This was her best dress, and red was his favorite!) Every night, stars gathered for the celebration and sighed in silent mourning as another night slipped by. The chill in night-air was unmistakeable.


Moonlight in her dreams always made the desert look like a giant crumpled bedsheet. She felt herself decaying into the sand-sheet with time. Perhaps it was just in her dreams, funny as they are, that it became increasingly difficult to identify herself from the desert. "Come on, you're the princess around here!", she shouted at the top of her voice. But the stars looked on in amazement, as they thought they saw a sudden whiff rise and die away, from a single sand-dune.
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Vulnerable

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Did a bit of sketching after a long interval, and finished this one quite quickly (around 20 minutes). Since it didn't turn out to be that bad, my braggart self decided to post it ;)

Mood: Happy :)
Music: Piyu bole (Parineeta)

Demons

Some unanswered questions - unanswered, and uncomfortable - chasing you round the clock, staring at you silently (pretending to be dead, yet very much alive) - demanding their answers.

And answer you must. You don't want dead questions following you like dogs, do you? You don't want to relive their death, do you?

And yet answer you can't, because they expect words. A teary-eyed you - devoid of words, with a lump in your throat and sleepless nights by your side - can do nothing but annoy the Gods all the more. Devotees are most welcome, so long as they're not emotional fools.

Your existence is questioned, and that you're alive is no proof. Someone who's been suicidal for years can't possibly be alive, they say.

The walls of hope give way, and your own questions seep through. Assuring you of a death no worse than you deserve. A death of drowing in the waters of suspicion. Of doubts that others invented, and you lived with. (And will die with)



Mood: Indignant/Confused/And now tired
Music: Ek khyaal ke bagal mein kaise saari zindagi guzaar dein?

Ummeed

Chalte rahe hum roshni ka thaam ke dhaaga
Chaadar andhera har taraf bunta chala gaya

(It needs to be completed, but that'll need some time. Till then, I thought, why not let others add some lines to it?)

Waah, Gulzar!

Yes, I know there've been enough posts about Gulzar and ARR in my blog already. But then, you can't expect much else from a diehard Gulzar fan, and more so one who has developed a newfound interest in writing herself.

Frankly, I don't think I'm the stuff poets are made of. I know that of late I've just been posting my so-called poems, but they're not spontaenous. They usually come up after a lot of fiddling with words and playing with thoughts and ideas. I don't know if everyone writes like that, but I do.

And so, it surprises me how someone can write as simply, yet as beautifully as Gulzar does. There's no trace of slogging with words and ideas. The words seem to flow, to slide on a ground frictionless, to just have occured in someone's heart and moulded themselves into poetry. Nothing seems deliberate!

'Jab bhi thaama hai tera haath to dekha hai
Log kahte hain ki bas haath ki rekha hai
Humne dekha hai do taqdeeron ko juDte hue'

No big words, nothing unusual, yet such an extraordinary piece. And then,

'Parashtish ki yaa tak ki ey but tujhe
Nazar mein sabon ki khuda kar chale'

Or a superhit dance number, which has some meaning too -

'Woh yaar hai jo khushbu ki tarah
Jiski zubaan urdu ki tarah
Meri shaam-raat, meri qaaynaat
Woh yaar mera saiyaan saiyaan'

Even an item number gets a distinct Gulzar touch, and becomes Kajra Re (or 'Bidi Jalai Le')-

'Aankhein bhi kamaal karti hain
Personal se sawaal karti hain'

Never mind using other poets works (of course, with due credits given), they're all enriched, reinforced and given a new meaning (and popularity) altogether -

'Dil DhoonDhta hai phir wohi, fursat ke raat-din
baithe rahein tasavvur-e-jaana kiye hue'
(by Ghalib)

I can go on and on, but I realize that others do not necessarily share my enthusiasm on the subject. Moreover, this can probably go on forever (I haven't even mentioned his non-filmi compositions). So, here's to the wonderful lyricist, poet, scriptwriter and director.

We salute you!

Ideas, and the lack of them

Sometimes it so happens that I've had some idea for a blog for a long-long time, just the idea, somwhere in the back of my mind, that I mean to write about, and then when I have the time, it seems as if words always ditch me. (I guess writing such long sentences, with commas seperating them, is a bad idea - but then, I didn't want to go through it again, trying to correct it! I've never been in the habit of revising things, not even my exam papers.)

Anyway, coming to back to the point, it so happens that you never find the words you're looking for when trying to write something. And then the idea slowly turns itself into something much more severe, demanding all of your time and attention. And then you really wish the thing had never occurred to you in the first place! Gulzar has a wonderful poem about the situation, but I don't quite remember it as of now. I'll post it if I happen to find it.

So an Idea happened to me. And having heard somewhere 'An Idea can change your life', I sat down with the idea, trying to change mine. Well, my life didn't really change, but the idea did ;) and what I wrote was something quite different from what I intended to.
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Raat Ki Syaahi

Tumhari aankhein dekh ke, jaante ho, kya sochti hoon?
Ab tak aur na jaane kitni raatein qaid ho chuki hongi unmein!

Gusse mein toofaan waali ek barsaat ki raat,
Aur ek, jismein sharaarat ka ek sitaara chamka hoga
Murjhaaye patton waali ek patjhaD ki bhii!

Vaisi hi ek raat ki syaahi se jo misre likhe
Sapne kuchh berang se ubhar aaye

Abki baar jo aana, do mutthi waqt saath laana
Sapno mein rang bharna aasaan nahin!
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So, that's that. And as I said, it's not what I wanted to write, but since it's about eyes (they always fascinate me), I thought I could post this just as well. And now, over to you.