I did not get a chance to really talk to you I did not get a chance to have chai with you But somehow I felt I knew you Maybe because I noticed your silence Whenever we crossed each other in the corridor Maybe because I noticed your meek smile Whenever we had an eye...
To, Samidha You were there with me whenever I needed you, you never refused to help anyone, always smiled and gladly would be up for doing something new and exciting. We had plans once of going out and exploring Pune, I’m so sorry I canceled. I don’t know why I feel so guilty. You were there...
तुम्हें कुछ बताना रह गया समिधा। शायद मैं बताना भूल गई, या शायद मैंने सोच लिया कि अभी हमारे पास काफ़ी वक़्त है। तुमसे कहना था कि तुम्हारी कविता जो तुमने माध्यम में अपनी मीठी आवाज़ में गुनगुनाई थी, उसकी दो पंक्तियां मेरे दिल में रह सी गई हैं: “पर पुणे शहर है ये, यहाँ...
जिंदगी जैसी भी थी अच्छी थी, बुरी थी डोर तो तुम्हारे ही हाथों थी तुम चाहतीं तो उस डोर की मदद से मीलों दूर छलांग लगती तुम चाहतीं तो उस डोर का झूला बनाकर जिंदगी के मज़े लेतीं मगर तुमने वो डोर ही काट दी न जाने ऐसा क्या हुआ जो तुम हमसे इतना रूठ...
I never knew you. But I wish I did. I wish I could listen to your stories. I wish I could appreciate you. I wish I could just be there for you. But all I can wish for you now, is happiness. I know that your smile has already lit up the world where you...
“What do you think of Ambedkar, sir?” She had asked, As I was fumbling with my lecture notes. It is hard to be asked such when one is trying to kneel. Your knees pain that little more when you try to look up to the sky. “Ambedkar is a sea”, I must have said...
This is the first time I am trying to write in Hindi, because I know Samidha would appreciate it. She would say, Ma’am koshish to kijiye. This is for you, my dear. फूलों सी नाज़ुक थी तुम, लोहे सी सख़्त भी थी। हंसी तुम्हारी झरनों जैसी क्यूं आज फिर मुरझाई सी? तुम्हें मैं क्या ही...
Itni baatein hai man me aaj Par zabaan pe kuch aate nahi Mai shaant kaise reh loon Ye yaadein dil se jaate nahi Mai nahi chahta ke hum kuch bhule Dard zyada ho to hum ro le Magar kuch bhi na bhule Pata hai kyu? Aapne chap chore hai aise Gum raaston ko more hai...
Dear Elio, I write to you of a girl I knew who grooved to Kishore on sunny mornings, who would sit me down and gently explain the nuances of shayaris and Marathi words I failed to pick. Safar Jahan is what she called herself, I perhaps will never truly understand her words as it’s lost in...
कहते हैं कि हर किसी की कोई मंज़िल होती है उस मंज़िल की तलाश का अपना एक सफ़र होता है तुम्हारी मंज़िल क्या थी मालूम नहीं सफ़र तुम्हारा शायद यहीं तक था पहली बार जब अपनी उस किताब के दो पन्ने, थोड़ी घबराहट और बहुत गर्व से सुनाए तुम्हारा तो पता नहीं हम सब के...
