Monday, December 19, 2011

Scotch on the Rocks

Love is like a “Scotch on the Rocks” it start with the bang; while its feeling mellows down as you move further but by the time you reach the bottom, your are lighter in the head and a far pleasant person.

Friday, November 25, 2011

Some scribbling over a cloudy evening…


Yeh shaam bhi aajeeb hai
kabhi bhujee bhujee see, too kabhi hawaa ke num aachal main baarish kee boondo ke saath gun-gunatee hui,
Kyo yaad dilaa raahi hai yeh mujhe, poorani khili khili dhoop ka…
Kya main kuch chood aaya hoo main aapne peeche; yaa yeh sirf ahsaas hai jaate hue lamhoo kaa?
Kal phir aayege yee dhoop to poochonga us see
Kyoo saata raahi thee mujhe, kya woo jaane kee nishaan thee teere, yaa phir aaj milne kaa paigaam..?
Kyoo aayi hoo phir tum mujko robaroo karne agar jaana hee hai mujhe raat kee saaye main tanha kaar ke..?

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Devil inside us


There is a devil inside every one of us and we can never throw it out completely, the important part is to make him your slave rather than become his…

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Life and Music

Life is like playing a musical song, it mainly consist of three main chords – “a big crowd”, “group of close ones” and “no one”. For one to to enjoy the life as a good melody he needs to find his own combination of these chords; the combination may vary from person to person but one thing is for sure – every one will always have some parts of these.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

Zindagi Kya Hai….


Zindagi kya hai?
Kuch kagaaj ke paano par bhikree hue syaah aalfaaz, kuch ehsaas, kuch yaadei…
Kuch Sapno ke mukam-mil hoone aur kuch sapno kee tootne ki daastaan….
Yaa phir ek toota taara – chaamkta hua, aapne kuch roomani paalo main doosro koo aapne hoone kaa ehsaas dilaata hua, doosro ki zindagi main aapni peechan ke nishan chodne ke kooshish main

maine kudh see poocha yeh sawaal to meera Mazhar boola
“kyo poochta hai aaise saawal jiska kaa zawab khuda ke paas bhi nahin….”


Monday, September 26, 2011

Genghis Khan and the Falcon

One morning, the Mongol warrior, Genghis Khan, and his court went out hunting. His companions carried bows and arrows, but Genghis Khan carried on his arm his favourite falcon, which was better and surer than any arrow, because it could fly into the skies and see everything that a human beiong could not.
However, despite the group’s enthusiastic efforts, they found nothing. Disappointed, Genghis Khan returned to the encampment and in order not to take out his frustration on his companions, he left the rest of the party and rode on alone. They had stayed in the forest for longer than expected, and Khan was desperately tired and thirsty. In the summer heat, all the streams had dried up, and he could find nothing to drink. Then, to his amazement, he saw a thread of water flowing from a rock just in front of him.
He removed the falcon from his arm, and took out the silver cup which he always carried with him. It was very slow to fill and, just as he was about to raise it to his lips, the falcon flew up, plucked the cup from his hands, and dashed it to the ground.
Genghis Khan was furious, but then the falcon was his favourite, and perhaps it, too, was thirsty. He picked up the cup, cleaned off the dirt, and filled it again. When the cup was only half-empty this time, the falcon again attacked it, spilling the water.
Genghis Khan adored his bird, but he knew that he could not, under any circumstances, allow such disrespect; someone might be watching this scene from afar and, later on, would tell his warriors that the great conqueror was incapable of taming a mere bird.
This time, he drew his sword, picked up the cup and refilled it, keeping one eye on the stream and the other on the falcon. As soon as he had enough water in the cup and was ready to drink, the falcon again took flight and flew towards him. Khan, with one thrust, pierced the bird’s breast.
The thread of water, however, had dried up; but Khan determined how to find something to drink, climbed the rock in search of the spring. To his surprise, there really was a pool of water and, in the middle of it, dead, lay one of the most poisonous snakes in the region. If he had drunk the water, he, too, would have died.
Khan returned to camp with the dead falcon in his arms. He ordered a gold figurine of the bird to be made and on one of the wings, he had engraved:
“Even when a friend does something you do not like, he continues to be your friend.”
And on the other wing, he had these words engraved:
“Any action committed in anger is an action doomed to failure.”


Thursday, September 22, 2011

Woman and the Bird….


Once upon a time, there was a bird. He was adorned with perfect wings and with glossy, colorful feathers. He was a creature made to fly about freely in the sky, bringing joy to everyone who saw him.

One day, a woman saw this bird and fell in love with him. She watched his flight, her mouth wide in amazement, her heart pounding, her eyes shining with excitement. She invited the bird to fly with her, and the two traveled across the sky in perfect harmony. She admired and venerated and celebrated that bird.

But then she thought: He might want to visit far-off mountains! And she was afraid that she would never feel the same way about the other bird. And she felt envy, envy for the bird's ability to fly.

And she felt alone.

And her thought: "I'm going top set a trap. The next time the bird appears, he will never leave again."

The bird, who was also in love, returned the following day, fell into the trap and was put in a cage.

She looked at the bird every day. There he was, the object of her passion, and she showed him to her friends, who said: "Now you have everything you could possibly want."

However, a strange transformation began to take place; now that she had the bird and no longer needed to woo him, she began to lose interest.

The bird, unable to fly and express the true meaning of his life, began to waste away and his feathers began to lose their gloss; he grew ugly; and the woman no longer paid any attention, except by feeding him and cleaning out his cage.

One day, the bird died. The woman felt terribly sad and spent all her time thinking about him. But she did not remember the cage, she thought only of the day when she had seen him for the first time, flying contently amongst the clouds.

If she had looked more deeply into herself, she would have realized that what had trilled her about the bird was his freedom, the energy of his wings in motion, not his physical body.

Without the bird, her life too lost all meaning, and Death came knocking at her door. "Why have you come?" she asked Death. "So that you can fly once more with him across the sky," Death replied.

"If you had allowed him to come and go, you would have loved and admired him even more; alas, you now need me in order to find him again."