Sheesha-e-dil

Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa

Pahale se maraasim na sahi phir bhi kabhi tou
rasm-o-rahe duniya hi nibhane ke liye aa
Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa

Kis kis ko batayenge judaai ka sabab ham
tu mujhse khafaa hai tou zamaane ke liye aa
Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa

Kuch tou mere pindaar-e-mohabbat ka bharam rakh
tu bhi to kabhi mujh ko manaane ke liye aa
Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa

Ek umr se hoon lazzat-e-giriyaa se bhi maharuum
aye raahat-e-jaan mujh ko rulaane ke liye aa
Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa,
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa.

Ab tak dil-e-khushfeham ko tujh se hain ummiden
ye aakharii shammen bhi bujhaane ke liye aa
Ranjish hi sahi dil hi dukhane ke liye aa
aa phir se mujhe chhod ke jaane ke liye aa

- Ahmad Faraz

Dard-e-dil

Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale

Qafas udaas hai yaaron saba se kuchh to kaho
Kahin to bahr-e-Khuda aaj zikar-e-yaar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale
Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale

Kabhi to subah tere kunj-e-lab se ho aaghaz
Kabhi to shab sar-e-kaakul se mushakbaar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale
Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale

Bara hai dard ka rishta yeh dil gharib sahi
Tumhare naam pe aaenge ghamgusaar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale
Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale

Jo hum pe guzri so guzri magar shab-e-hijra
Hamaare ashq tere aaqbat sanwaar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale
Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale

Maqaam Faiz koi raah mein jacha hi nahin
Jo kue yaar se nikle to sue daar chale
Chale bhi aao ke gulshan ka kaarobaar chale
Gulon mein rang bhare baad-e-naubahaar chale

Shabdkosh

Remembering Ghaalib Saab

Ye na thi hamaari kismat ki visaal-e-yaar hota,
agar aur jeete rehte to yahi intezaar hota!

Koi Mere dil se pooche tere teer-e-neemkash ko,
Ye khalish kahaan se hoti jo Zigar ke paar hota!

Kahun kisse mai ki kyaa hai, shab-e-ghum buri balaa hai,
Mujhe kya bura tha marna agar ek baar hota!

Differently Lucky, Not Unlucky!

While I was growing up, I remember how I used to listen to my mother talking over phone to some relative about how a cousin of mine married a girl from a different caste and how this was a huge deal. I remember how getting involved in a love affair used to be and still is a huge deal for my family because according to them, parents are the ones who decide a life partner for their children. I also remember how I weird I felt at even the thought of spending my entire life with a complete stranger let alone an acquaintance. What if the partner and I aren't compatible? What if our likes and interests don’t match. What if we are never unanimous in our decisions? Do we separate? All these questions baffled me and I promised myself I would never marry a stranger. I would wait for the time till I fall in love with someone or someone falls in love with me and exchange rings. Little did I know that the theory on which I based my idea of a perfect love story and an ideal love marriage would turn out to be so flawed? Digging deep into the matter, it turns out that the theory is not flawed, it is just that the sample size that follows the theory is pretty small and I stand out of it.

A Journey till the End of Life

We all were enervated. Four classes, each 2 hours long had finally finished and I needed a break. A vent I should say and not just a break and a freshly brewed hot coffee to sooth the mephistophelean headache. Alankrit suggested that we go to the Indian Coffee House and, after the little discord that I usually have for every idea that is tabled across, we marched toward The Rivoli, next to which our dinner joint was located, as Alankrit kept on claiming.

A Chance At Living My Life

Choosing the name of my blog wasn't difficult for me. I knew what I wanted and I knew it quite for a reason. I knew I was writing the blog to post what's on my mind that can not be posted on other Social Networks. So I came up with "Heaven - and - Ocean" inspired mainly by Shelley's "Ode to The West Wind". My feet are in deep dead ocean whereas my thoughts reside in the limitless, unapproachable sky, was the reason behind choosing such an address for the blog. Just like my thoughts, my life is pretty much messed up too. One minute I am all happy and smiling and within no time something bad happens and spoils my mood. Deep down inside I am actually fearful of laughing as something bad might turn up again and sabotage my good mood.

It's All about Me

There are certain reasons why most of the posts on my blog are centered around me.

I am always thinking about myself, my life, the good memories, the bad ones (mostly bad ones as the good things lasted only for an year or two in these 22 years that I have lived for till now).

I am no pessimist. I am an ordinary man. What make my life extra-ordinary are unexpected stories about and around me. I feel like a celebrity all the times! Always in lime-light. For things that I do and also for the ones I do not do. For words I say and the ones I do not. For things I mean and the ones I certainly do not mean.

Actually when I look back and read my own statement that in 22 years, there have only been 2 years that I am really proud of, I opine about myself that I am the one at fault and not the world. That I need to change my attitude. But as I recently discussed with a friend a problem I was facing, it turns out that I am not cent percent wrong. People and situations are at fault as well. See how glad I am after the discussion.

Anyway, this post isn't about sad old memories. This is about why it is always about me!

Well, the answer is simple.

God loves me. God loves me in a special way. Treats me specially. I am like a Roadie who is given challenging tasks every day to test his perseverance.

In "Absolute Khushwant", Mr. Khushwant Singh writes about "Life, Death and most things in between". Who knows someday, when I am rich and famous, this blog of mine catches a journalist's eye and he/she and I pen down my own biography.