chalo aaj ek duje ke zakhm kuredein
jala tha jism jahAaN dil bhi jal gaya tha
chalo aaj ik duje ko ham ye eenAam deN
aaj apne nakhoon ke zeher se
ek duje me ched kar us adhoori
justajoo ko aaj ki raat anjaam deN

apni aawaaz ki tez dhaar se
ek duje ka dil khoj nikaaleN
aur ek duje ko ek duje ka jaam deN
aao aaj gulal se holi khele
gale mile aur khushi manaayeN
aao aaj ek duje ko ek naya naam deN

english:
come let’s scratch each other’s wounds
for when the body was burnt so was the heart
so let’s grant each other our cherished fetish
that with our poisonous nails
we hole into one another
and fulfil that long lingering wish

with the dagger in our voices
let us find each other’s heart
and fill each other’s plate with that game
come let’s play Holi with gulaal, today
let us embrace and celebrate
and give each other a different name

मेरी इन रचनाओं में
खुद ही को तुम पाओगे

तनहाई में मुझे याद करोगे
और मेरे ही गीत गाओगे

तुम अंधेरे-ए-वेब में भटको लाख
तुम लौट के ज़रूर आओगे

तुम्हारे लिए ही लिखता हूँ
एक बार सुनो तो सुने जाओगे

दोस्ती करो तो हम उलफत करें
गर हमको तुम आज़माओगे

जो मेरा ब्लॉग तुम नही पड़ते
कहो, काबा किस मूँ से जाओगे?

ulfat = muhabbat

If your browser doesn't support the hindi font, then here's the same thing in the English alphabet:

Mere in rachnaaon mein
Khud hi ko tum paaogey

Tanhaai mein mujhe yaad karoge
Aur mere hi geet gaaogey

Tum andhere-e-web me bhatko lakh
Tum laut ke zaroor aaogey

Tumhaare liye hi likhta hun
Ek baar suno to sune jaaogey

Dosti karo toh ham ulfat karen
Gar hamko tum aazmaaogey

Jo mera blog tum nahi padte
Kaho, Kaaba kis muun se jaaogey?

When I was small,
That belief grew in me
Like a flower
On the fertile ground of my heart,
Where it breathed its fragrance
Of eternal hope and love.
As a romantic promise of unknown possibilities
Was fragrant in the air.

When I came of age,
There was despair in the air
Of romantic promises that had never come true;
I had betrayed myself.
Never to be lost, that sense of belief remains still
Like that ever lingering flame of first love;
It never died
It breathes fragrance of hope
In my heart still,
Which is now a cross,
An unbearable cross
Whose weight grows with time.

1. You must exercise your right to blog anything you like.This is the most basal and cardinal rule of all. You being the author of your blog have the right to blog whatever you wish to. It is not necessary that your blog adheres to the taste your readers have cultivated reading you. That is, you must never be their slaves but your own master; you can blog on the latest updates from the world of ice-hockey, follow it up with the most complex poem by T.S. Eliot that none understand but appreciate including you, and follow it up by publishing the results of the experiment with the microscope you did the other weekend on the sexual habits of microorganisms. This will also speak of your courage and daredevilry and will win you silent admirers who will never comment, and make silent admirers of those who do.

2. You must blog happy. That is, irrespective of any factor, you must necessarily feel profoundly happy for and proud about what you have posted last. It should necessarily, working as panacea, lighten your days and soften your nights, irrespective of the burdens you carry in life.

3.You must post frequently. When you were a kid and teacher used to teach, and all the children would listen to her but you who'd look out the window, you had sealed your destiny to be a blogger one day. In between the sessions of your great introspections you must have sometime heard the teacher say the famous proverb: 'An empty mind is the devil's workshop'. Well, you can replace the word “mind” with the word “blog”.

4. You must post crap every once in a while. Like they say, adversary is the best teacher. It is imperative that you post crap every once in a while. It will teach you that no matter how hard you struggle, you can't be successful all the time. Despite what point two says, your blog can't ever have much of a bearing on your real life, nonetheless, the lessons learnt during blogadversity will surely see you through your worst times in real life. Besides, this will also bind you in a cord of sympathy with your fellow bloggers who blog crap all the time.

5. Don't delete previous posts. Remember it is blasphemy in your newfound religion of blogging to delete previous blogs. You must never do that in the interest of the collective survival of the species. [See points 8 and 9 for more in the context of this.] The best way is by following points 1, 2 and 3. You must have the wisdom that whatever feelings led you to do that were essentially transient and fleeting and will pass away as quickly as a gust of wind, and will thus have no lasting effect on you who have always stood proudly unabashed; what is ever-permanent, all-pervading, is, of course, YOUR BLOG, therefore, you must never insult your blog by deleting what you have already posted.

6. You must post something worthwhile every once in a while. Just like you fell in love with your spouse in those first days, and the rest of your days were spent finding and feigning that love you once felt, you must blog something worthwhile every now and then, so that you search for its shadow for the remainder of your blogging days (term of virtual life), and keep blogging in that false hope.

7. Blog and let blog. You must understand that just like yourself, others too have a right of writing and posting crap. You must respect their right. You must feel happy about your blog and let others feel happy about theirs. This in turn means that you must willingly and cheerfully post false, flattering comments on others' blogs so they can in turn post false, flattering comments on yours, which you must accept gratefully with a swelling of your heart. This will further encourage feelings of universal brotherhood and love for all, making the blogosphere a peaceful and happy place to blog in.

8. You must convince more and more people to blog. Needless to say, this is very essential for the survival of the species.

9. Most importantly, you must believe in blogging. The french philosopher Fredrick Neitzche wrote in his book, Beyond Good and Evil: “…as soon as ever a philosophy begins to believe in itself. It always creates the world in its own image…” This essentially obliterates truth or any conflicting opinion in the interest of survival of the species. Therefore, you must believe in the higher philosophy of blogging and let the world around you — all of it: your marital life, your professional life, etc etc — be created in its image.

PS These are the views of a fictitious character to be taken very seriously by all.

Sometimes my daily life as I go
A vision, an oasis, sweeps before me
Fleeting, magical and fragrant
I speculate that in my heart it is born
Of the seeds of dream
Left an eternity ago;
A tiny seed that grew, clandestinely, in dreams
And now has come of age, like me
At the fleeting vision of it,
A gasp escapes my lips
And my heart cringes
As I wantonly check myself–
Tears have long banished me;
My heart won’t break
In shame of itself
Why, but only another wind it is
That sweeps past, although unforeseen
It comes from a dreamland, magical and yonder,
That younger, I believed, someday, could have been.

It remained closeted
Somewhere in my mind
And peeped from behind my eyes
To catch a familiar sight
In the eyes of friends
Who turned away.
At sundown, alone
It got restless,
In my senses
And spilled over
It littered around
Teary-eyed and blinded
Licking its tongue
In the corners of the evening
And wistfully sought its end
It pierced its fangs
Into the evening
And stung the sky
Which turned a dark blue
And hung low like an evil

PS One line sort of “refers to” an Eliot poem. A euphemism for plagiarism?

I don’t clean my room properly

And I wouldn’t ever empty that closet

A life nurtures there by itself

Even as if one were to pet mosquitoes

And it wouldn’t change anything anyway

If my room were spic and span

For cobwebs there are in the rooms of my mind

The ones where I once spent a lot of time

Pray how would I ever clean them?

When sometimes I sit by the window sill

And squint at the city lights at eve

I look over my shoulders

To gaze at length

At the long road wherefrom I came

And where now I can’t turn and go

Perhaps some summer it is

That still lingers and waits

In the closet

It hasn’t seen the light of day for a while now

So it has a ghostly face

I read poetry and listen to music

That is as coarse as it is classic

With the coarse

Rain, it pours

On Sunday evenings

And forms tiny rivulets

Flowing down strange alleys in my mind

That are just as coarse and primitive

Yep, I know its coarse. And the constant reader of this page will hafta bear awhile with me. Coz me is in that mood. And I am kinda brushing the dust off some books and working my hands at the calculator so I can’t be regular at your page. I will read you whenever I get the time. Promise.