Ek baar phir who Nirma ke din laut aaye,
Ek baar phir hum college students ban jaaye…
Ek baar phir who hostel me rehne chale jaaye,
Aur phir hafte me bas do teen baar nahaye,
Raat bhar CS ki duniya me dhoom machaye,
Aur din me class me sote pakde jaaye…
Ek baar phir Akanksha Bumb class me late entry kare,
Ek baar phir Neeraj Goyal assignment se dare,
Phirse Harish Gupta question pucchta hi jaaye,
Phirse Umang Agarwal ko class room me neend aaye…
Phir Anupam Garg ko log Hell G ka naam de,
Phir Gopalkrishnan Sir assignment ke liye ek hi shaam de,
Phir Neha Gupta ko log Nano kehkar bulaaye,
Phir Sachin Singh ko log sirf playground pe hi paaye…
Phir se class ke break me log tapri pe hi mile,
Sota hua GG phir sirf dinner ke liye hile,
Phir Priyavrat Sajjan Rajasthan Dhabe pe dikhe,
Phir mess se zyada pantry ka khana beeke…
Phir se Riti Ranka class ko colorful kar de,
Aur bachi hui kasar Sharmil Patwa bhar de,
Phir se sham ko hostel me Kaalepapa prakat ho,
Phir warden aane pe 7th floor pe sankat ho…
Phir Akhilesh aur Kaushik nache aur nachaye,
Phir Ankur Dhariwal flirting karte pakda jaaye,
Phir Anuja Nair se maahol Tinglemay ho jaaye,
Phir se janmashtami boy’s hostel me mangalmay ho jaaye…
Phir se Anand Gupta ko “The Bhai” ka khitab mile,
Phir Ankit Shrimali Shri CultComm banne chale,
Phir ho race Atit, Abhishek aur Jai ke beech finance ki,
Phir ho taarif Parsu aur Abbi ke Chidiya Dance ki…
Phir exam ke ek din pehle Siddharth Agarwal ki class ho,
Phir se Karthik Rawal exam me copy karke pass ho,
Phir se Manish Ojha ki bike ho aur bees rupaiye ka petrol ho,
Phir se Chehre ke play me Anubhav Sood ka role ho…
Phir Dinubhai pakad pakad ke sabko PJ sunaaye,
Phir Gannu ko kahi bhi, kabhi bhi neend aa jaaye,
Phir Chirantan subah shaam Gym me exercise kare,
Phir Aayush Bhalla ek hi chapter char baar revise kare…
Phir Lodhi ke festival me popcorn aur mungfali plenty ho,
Phir se Sumit Gupta sab ki har baat pe senti ho,
Phir Yogesh ban jaaye Yo aur Rohit ban jaaye rO,
Phir Tanvi Madan kahe, “Tum Kharab Aadmi Ho”…
Phir har shaam Sapna Vyas campus ke chakkar lagaaye,
Phir Ullhas Kelkar baccho ki “Didi” ban jaaye,
Phir har raat baje, Vintybhaiya ka Midnight Radio,
Phir Hum dekhe Mahi:P and Rustyic Film ka video…
Phir Jyoti ki hasi se saara girls hostel darr jaaye,
Phir Priyanka Jain Ms. Richter ban jaaye,
Phir Kaushal aur Sid Roy mil kar gaana gaaye,
Phir se question pucch pucch Nimish conclaves ki shaan badhaye…
Phir Audi me ek hi naara, aur who naara aisa ho,
“Humara neta kaisa ho, Dhawal Joshi jaisa ho”,
Phir se Nikhil Aur Arya ki room, CFA room kehlaaye,
Phir Richa Palriwal nautanki aur nakhre dikhlaaye…
Phir fashion show me Pallavi aur PG ki cat walk ho,
Phir CUG phones pe raat raat bhar talk ho,
Phir IP messenger pe bakarbaazi ka maahol ho,
Phir attendance lagaane ke liye proxy ka jhol ho…
Phir Prabhat Yadav sikhaye Pikachu, raichu ke funde,
Phir se Backlawn me ho executive dinner on Sunday,
Phir Aditi Jain zor se kahe”ek jhaapat khaayega”,
Aur phir Paridhi Jain kahe, humse “Naa ho paayega”…
Phir Amarnani sir aur shantanu sir de Finance ka dose,
Aur uthne me itna late ho ke breakfast chhut jaaye roz,
Phir Ketaki ban jaaye mata aur utkarsh ban jaaye lala,
Phir raat ko hostel me loudspeaker pe roz baje Madhushala…
Phir placement ki ho tension, aur yaaro ka ho saath,
Phir conclave me suit pehne, din se ho jaaye raat,
Phir do chhuti wale weekend pe ho roadtrip ya outing,
Phir NCL ki matches me ho hooting aur shouting…
Phir Navraatri ki raato me jhoom ke naachna gaana,
Phir richter ke pronite me yaaro ke sang chillana,
Phir ho convocation ka din, phir medal ka suspense,
Phir hum ban jaaye Nirma ke present se past tense…
Phir ek baar woh dosto se milne ke waade kare,
Phir dil me yaadien liye zindagi me aage badhe,
Ek baar phir zindagi me yeh kaamyaabi ka makaam paaye,
Aur phir soche Ek baar phir woh Nirma ke din laut aaye…
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Make her believe
I know it seems impossible, I know its a difficult task,
a thousand reasons I'll give and a million questions she will ask,
But I still want to try, I still want to achieve,
I'll go through all the pain, just to make her believe...
If there's one thing difficult to build, that thing is definitely trust,
But I just thrive for it though, for me the faith is must,
I'll do everything possible, every trick that's under my sleeve,
I'll put in all the effort, just to make her believe...
I need to let her know, that she is the one, the inspiration,
And I need to find assurance, that there is no more hesitation,
I know that she understands it all, she surely isn't naive,
And yet I need to struggle, just to make her believe...
a thousand reasons I'll give and a million questions she will ask,
But I still want to try, I still want to achieve,
I'll go through all the pain, just to make her believe...
If there's one thing difficult to build, that thing is definitely trust,
But I just thrive for it though, for me the faith is must,
I'll do everything possible, every trick that's under my sleeve,
I'll put in all the effort, just to make her believe...
I need to let her know, that she is the one, the inspiration,
And I need to find assurance, that there is no more hesitation,
I know that she understands it all, she surely isn't naive,
And yet I need to struggle, just to make her believe...
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Yeh Rishta kya kehlata hai!!!
uske kadmo ki aahat sunte hi nazre mud hi jaati hai,
aur tham jaati hai nazre us par kucch pal ke liye,
na to koi bita hua lamha yaad hota hai, na to koi aane wali ghadi,
bas ushi pal me maano zindagi ruk si jaati hai,
woh lehro pe chalti hui si guzar jaati hai,
aur main saahil ki tarah bas dekhta reh jaata hu,
na to chup reh paata hu, na kucch keh paata hu,
chah hai usse pucchne ki, kaise hai woh itni saksham,
ki palko ko jhuka ke maano samay ko rok leti hai,
aur kamar ko balkhake maano hawaa ko woh rukh deti hai,
aur phir hai woh kitni saral, aur saath hi kitni chanchal,
maano kayi indradhanushi rango ko saath mila diya ho,
aur usse kisi sundari ka chitran kiya ho,
Jab kucch kehta hu usse, bas haskar woh taal deti hai,
par uski woh muskurahat bhi kayi aur prashn le aati hai,
maano apne chakravyuh me woh mujhe aur uljhaati hai,
na to woh apsara hai, na to woh mrignayani,
na koi raagini hai, na to woh kaamini,
par phir bhi kucch to vishesh hai usme,kucch to hai alag,
ki jab woh raah se nahi guzarti,
kaano me uske kadmo ki aahat tab bhi gunjti hai,
uske intezaar me nazre tab bhi mudti hai,
na to koi rishta hai usse, na to koi vaada,
na koi tamanna hai, na koi iraada,
par phir bhi uske bina woh raah me kucch tanha sa lagta hai,
uske bina nazro ko kucch to suna sa lagta hai,
bas mera aur uska sirf nazro ka hi naata hai,
kya jaane yeh rishta kya kehlata hai!!!
aur tham jaati hai nazre us par kucch pal ke liye,
na to koi bita hua lamha yaad hota hai, na to koi aane wali ghadi,
bas ushi pal me maano zindagi ruk si jaati hai,
woh lehro pe chalti hui si guzar jaati hai,
aur main saahil ki tarah bas dekhta reh jaata hu,
na to chup reh paata hu, na kucch keh paata hu,
chah hai usse pucchne ki, kaise hai woh itni saksham,
ki palko ko jhuka ke maano samay ko rok leti hai,
aur kamar ko balkhake maano hawaa ko woh rukh deti hai,
aur phir hai woh kitni saral, aur saath hi kitni chanchal,
maano kayi indradhanushi rango ko saath mila diya ho,
aur usse kisi sundari ka chitran kiya ho,
Jab kucch kehta hu usse, bas haskar woh taal deti hai,
par uski woh muskurahat bhi kayi aur prashn le aati hai,
maano apne chakravyuh me woh mujhe aur uljhaati hai,
na to woh apsara hai, na to woh mrignayani,
na koi raagini hai, na to woh kaamini,
par phir bhi kucch to vishesh hai usme,kucch to hai alag,
ki jab woh raah se nahi guzarti,
kaano me uske kadmo ki aahat tab bhi gunjti hai,
uske intezaar me nazre tab bhi mudti hai,
na to koi rishta hai usse, na to koi vaada,
na koi tamanna hai, na koi iraada,
par phir bhi uske bina woh raah me kucch tanha sa lagta hai,
uske bina nazro ko kucch to suna sa lagta hai,
bas mera aur uska sirf nazro ka hi naata hai,
kya jaane yeh rishta kya kehlata hai!!!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
I'm trying
They think I'm not trying,
BUt who are they to judge me,
to make remarks on my efforts,
cuz if there is one thing I have,
it is the passion, the intensity,
and I do not, cannot have fingers pointed,
at the very same things which I treasure,
So what if the results are missing?
so what if the answers are lost?
I am still cracking the questions,
still running the race,
though the finish line is far,
though the winners are already declared
I am not yet done
I have a lap still left in me,
though I'm trying to catch wind through a net,
though I'm trying to hit a star through a pebble,
the determination is there
the will is strong
All I need is for others to believe
That I'm trying... That I'm trying...
BUt who are they to judge me,
to make remarks on my efforts,
cuz if there is one thing I have,
it is the passion, the intensity,
and I do not, cannot have fingers pointed,
at the very same things which I treasure,
So what if the results are missing?
so what if the answers are lost?
I am still cracking the questions,
still running the race,
though the finish line is far,
though the winners are already declared
I am not yet done
I have a lap still left in me,
though I'm trying to catch wind through a net,
though I'm trying to hit a star through a pebble,
the determination is there
the will is strong
All I need is for others to believe
That I'm trying... That I'm trying...
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
I'm not a regular kinda guy...
Some of you may be asking why have I been missing my weekly (or fortnightly when I am not in the mood or monthly if my Boss finds out that the reason I appear so busy on my laptop has something to do with blogspot) blog. If you have not asked so far, then please do. That is well within your rights as dutiful employees surfing on office time. Things have come to a point where one of my friends, Neeli has been sending me mail reminders every 3 days to make me update my blog.
Her last mail had these verbatim lines "If you do not update your blog in next couple of days, I am gonna make sure I visit you and make you watch tele replays of Akash Chopra bat…he he… in slow motion ...Buuu.. wuuu HahAHAHAHAHA”. Countless readers (i.e. 3) bombarded me incessantly, requesting me to write something if not at least a laundry list so that they could find something to read. But that for some unfortunate reasons could not be accomplished.
Ok, the fact is that I am not really a regular kind of guy. Mind you I am a regular guy, which is slightly different than being a regular kind of guy. Regular guys are the last ones to be picked when drawing cricket teams, they watch their dream beauties being swept away by cricket captains in college, they go Wooooow on every 4th girl that passes by them, their credit cards out perform their stock portfolios, when they start singing at a party the host goes, “Women and Children inside…quick” and so on. So I am pretty much a regular guy but have great problems keeping up with routine.
Routine and me never really agreed much. For one, keeping up with routine is like being Hitler’s mistress. You have to have strict discipline and really love it. I am sure that Eva Braun would have made a great humour columnist. But then she was German. Germans are God’s way of making fun condoms. They just won’t allow any humour to pass through them. Well so one never knows. For if I really had some discipline , I would have made a great Army officer where I could command parades every morning at 5 AM, shouting something absolutely unintelligible at the top of my voice , ( “PaaaaRRRAADDE, teeeeen kona teeen Aaaaaaddaaa..badega..Yeeeee... OOOoooo Badh”) …and then you blame the Airforce for crashing Mig 21s. Wouldn’t you do the same?
The second thing is this concept called Writer’s block. This is not just another fancy term to describe an author who is also a laxative model. A writer’s block is a debilitating condition. (NOTE: Ashwin Singh, if you are reading this, I repeat that Debilitating has nothing to do with titillating) Sometimes a writer can just sit by the desk the whole day and basically do nothing…..absolutely nothing...zilch…null….kosong. No one knows why this happens. Or if they did, they certainly forgot to write about it.
This block, indeed causes great irritation, especially to a few of my friends. But then, that’s just the way a writer’s block is. A constipation of ideas. As a writer, you have to have an idea to write about or at least a good internet connection to copy and paste complete passages from websites. Indeed there have been works where there has been no idea but just a lot many words. My examination papers for instance, but then, that is precisely the reason why I don’t gel my hair and move around in a Porsche. A car which is as great to drive as difficult it is to agree upon its pronunciation.
So for the past month, there was a confluence of these internecine phenomena which resulted in the prolonged absence of my blog. I am trying my best to get out of this situation but hey if it was as easy to get a thing by merely wanting to, then by now I should have been as excited as a 70 year virgin at the annual nymphomaniac seminar. But I am trying and I tell you, once that seminar gets underway, I will revert to my usual frequency.
Her last mail had these verbatim lines "If you do not update your blog in next couple of days, I am gonna make sure I visit you and make you watch tele replays of Akash Chopra bat…he he… in slow motion ...Buuu.. wuuu HahAHAHAHAHA”. Countless readers (i.e. 3) bombarded me incessantly, requesting me to write something if not at least a laundry list so that they could find something to read. But that for some unfortunate reasons could not be accomplished.
Ok, the fact is that I am not really a regular kind of guy. Mind you I am a regular guy, which is slightly different than being a regular kind of guy. Regular guys are the last ones to be picked when drawing cricket teams, they watch their dream beauties being swept away by cricket captains in college, they go Wooooow on every 4th girl that passes by them, their credit cards out perform their stock portfolios, when they start singing at a party the host goes, “Women and Children inside…quick” and so on. So I am pretty much a regular guy but have great problems keeping up with routine.
Routine and me never really agreed much. For one, keeping up with routine is like being Hitler’s mistress. You have to have strict discipline and really love it. I am sure that Eva Braun would have made a great humour columnist. But then she was German. Germans are God’s way of making fun condoms. They just won’t allow any humour to pass through them. Well so one never knows. For if I really had some discipline , I would have made a great Army officer where I could command parades every morning at 5 AM, shouting something absolutely unintelligible at the top of my voice , ( “PaaaaRRRAADDE, teeeeen kona teeen Aaaaaaddaaa..badega..Yeeeee... OOOoooo Badh”) …and then you blame the Airforce for crashing Mig 21s. Wouldn’t you do the same?
The second thing is this concept called Writer’s block. This is not just another fancy term to describe an author who is also a laxative model. A writer’s block is a debilitating condition. (NOTE: Ashwin Singh, if you are reading this, I repeat that Debilitating has nothing to do with titillating) Sometimes a writer can just sit by the desk the whole day and basically do nothing…..absolutely nothing...zilch…null….kosong. No one knows why this happens. Or if they did, they certainly forgot to write about it.
This block, indeed causes great irritation, especially to a few of my friends. But then, that’s just the way a writer’s block is. A constipation of ideas. As a writer, you have to have an idea to write about or at least a good internet connection to copy and paste complete passages from websites. Indeed there have been works where there has been no idea but just a lot many words. My examination papers for instance, but then, that is precisely the reason why I don’t gel my hair and move around in a Porsche. A car which is as great to drive as difficult it is to agree upon its pronunciation.
So for the past month, there was a confluence of these internecine phenomena which resulted in the prolonged absence of my blog. I am trying my best to get out of this situation but hey if it was as easy to get a thing by merely wanting to, then by now I should have been as excited as a 70 year virgin at the annual nymphomaniac seminar. But I am trying and I tell you, once that seminar gets underway, I will revert to my usual frequency.
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