Hazaron khwaishein aisi

sikude bistar par yun hi
kisi kasak ke beech
jo laal purse ka waada kiya tha,
tod dena
Us raat ke agle
kisi bhi shaam ko
long drive par shayad jaana tha,
chhod dena
mod dena apna rasta
us kooche se
jisse mere office ki
bus nikalti hai
Bas Rukne se pehle saans,
ek baar,
sirf ek baar apna naam
usse tod mujhse jod dena 

Morning Rain

And just before it turned white,
the usual,reddish,hot and bright.
Before lets seek-a-solution
for bloody traffic, morning tea and pollution.
Even before my morning ablution,
only half awake, half filled
with half memories and
half-ly analysed reasons,
it rained.
I sent my five senses,
outside the fences,
unknowingly in a curious hurry.
I saw them quenched,
dripping drenched,
in the morning rain.

You are not. You have just been made

well.. we know that what we speak depends on what has been written on us. What we are is what we have been made. Ya.. what we have been  made by our surroundings. Fine.. I  know you know this. But then there is another theory which builds on this one.

Now that we are living in an ever changing society. A society which changes from Orkut-users to Facebook-users in no time. A society of hitting saala-saying children to accepting fuck-off saying ones. And from stopping children from even looking at alcohol to accepting it as at least a party drink.

Now that we change places and hence traditions and cultures every next year, that we meet a different set of people with different set thought process and ideas.

That we are written so many things in us, we become many and not one. Well ... different people have different solutions for it. Some have the capability to be many characters. Some try to keep one of the many characters in them as the main one and try to stick to it. And then there are some who just stop trying to be anything or anyone.

In fact even this selection of which one you are depends on how and what has been written in you. By the surroundings.