Mobile Phone

Last week one of my cousins bought a suave new mobile phone. And Jesus, was she hyper about it? All through the week she kept exploring its features to the maximum (postponing her dinner at times!). But this week she didn’t seem as interested and excited as she was when she just bought it. When I inquired she said, “Oh, I already know all about it.” So that’s it, I thought. I’ll probably see her hyper-self again when she lays her hand on another set.


I think there is a latent lesson in relationship here. And the more I thought about it the more the answers to what makes a relationship click or bleak grew on me.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Fault

A young boy, walking – quite rightly – on the footpath was transformed into pulp in a matter of seconds by a car driven by an alcoholic out-of-control rich brat.

It was a normal newspaper report I came across recently. This boy paid the price because someone else was drunk driving.

When I lay on bed that night I thought how many times it has happened to me. I did things the way they should have been done and yet paid the price because some alcoholic out-of-control brat (God?) rammed his car (destiny??) onto me squashing my hopes and will into pulp. I mean what else the boy could have done if not walk on the footpath?

And the question – whose fault was it – continues to remain unanswered in my mind.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Yun Hi...

Bheed-Bhaad ke pahado mein,

Khamoshi ban ke ghoomta hoon.

Takrata hoon beetein palon se,

Aur,

Ek gehri saans ban ke barasta hoon.

Dil ek Qabr hai.

Samjhote ki mitti se,

Jahan Dafan hai laashe;

Uski, meri aur humari…

Dosto ki mehfil mein,

Tanhai se mulakaat hoti hain, aksar.

Hum bhaitte hain ghanto

Aur,

Dard ka shagun baatte hain.

Dil ek Kahani hai.

Haseen shabdo ke beech,

Jahan chippi hai kayi Kashmir jaise lamhe;

Uski, meri aur humari.

Hassi ke pardon ke peechein,

Jab waqt fizool nikalta hai,

Tum mujhe sulana chahti ho?

Aur jab wohi waqt ek barf ban jata hai,

Tum mujhe rulana chahti ho?

Khushiyon ke oonche buildingo ke beech,

Ek kharab si lift ban ke rah gaya hoon.

Na upar jane ki taakat baki hai,

Aur,

Na neeche jane ka koi maksad.

Dil ek bebas Jism hai.

Har kone mein jiske giraft hai,

Intezaar ki ek Mahek;

Uski, meri aur humari.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Yaad Aayen

Zindagi ek gale ki kharash,

Aur tum, adrak ki chai.

Bukhaar ke dino main,

Mathe par bheege rumal ka rakhna...

Jeena jaise ghanton ki bhuk,

Aur tum, ma ke haath ka khana.

Umeed ek chori ka samaan,

Aur tum, Diwali ki mithai.

School ke dino main,

Har din hajri dene ka mazhab...

Honsla ek ad-jali si mombatti,

Aur tum, sukoon ki neend.

Pareshaani ek daravni si parchayi,

Aur tum, shaadi ki shennai.

Ruksat ke dino main,

Gehri neend se achanak jag uthna...

Mann ek thaka hua musafir,

Aur tum, hawai jahaz ka udna.

Maut shaam ki ek local train,

Aur tum, baagiche main khelte bachche.

Mulaqat ke dino main,

Waqt ka bewajah fanaa hona...

Main sirf ek guzarta hua lamha,

Aur tum…barso ki yaari.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

Thank You !!!

THIS SEPTEMBER 'A Thing Beyond Forever' COMPLETES ONE YEAR !!! A HEARTFELT THANKS TO ALL MY READERS...!

Hum Bichchre The

Aankhen band karta hoon, nami ban ke chedhti ho;
Aankhen kholta hoon, duniya ban ke chidhati ho.
Saans chodhta hoon, behoshi ban ke chah jati ho;
Saans leta hoon, zevar ban ke zindagi ki bahon ko sajati ho.

Yaadein saap ban ke lipti hain...
Pairon par, kamar par, haatho main aur wahan...
Jahan koi zaher asar nahi karta.
Shayad maut bhi nahi.

Dard Ganga naha chuka hai.
Dil Namaz padh chuka hai.
Sawaal ka jawaab sawaal se kyon deti ho?
Intezaar bhi toh pyar ka ek saya hain.


Khule main sota hoon, kabhi toh falak se nunhe-munhe khat ban ke barsogi.
Un Khaton se bheeg kar dooriyaan mitengi toh nahi
Lekin,
Sapno ke tikhe sharbat main beetein mithein din zarur ghul jayenge.



By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY

The Choice

I REMEMBER...

Once in my third standard a boy was punished for stealing another student’s chocolate. The teacher had asked him to stretch his hands. He did. In one he was holding onto the half eaten chocolate while the other was open. The teacher boxed his ears and hit the open hand hard with a stick. And still the boy had smiled.

I HAVE REALIZED...

Whenever life gives us a chocolate in one hand it simultaneously hits our other hand hard. And it’s our choice (simple?) what we want to focus on: the pain generated by the stick or the pleasure of getting a chocolate.

By: NovoneeL ChakrabortY