The blank space

Harmed in the sphere of biased lives I crept inside

Knowing not the untamed struggle ,I harness my enemies easily

Like a serpents venom and a child’s heart I lived

Facing the blank space of my own desire for venegence

I struggled and struggled victory and death together I pretended

I was a strong window of bolted chains of sorrow

Until I laid my head down under the blank space .

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I watch them as plane goes over the sheets of different blue’s . I look at them from the corner of my right eye. I am not a criminal ; also, the guards carrying with them thick wooden stick for beating either  ,I am just alone ,and an explorer at least I ceased to be.

It was a fine morning when I suddenly decided to tighten my laces of branded shoes and to move out from a room that was closed from all the four sides. It was suffocating now because the window had the newspaper taped from start to end to stop the entrance of little mosquitoes that ;I slept and became the biggest intruders in my reality and world of dreams. The wall was red in colour,which sometimes was happening for having a pleasant  background for pictures when more people were in but sometimes it reminded me of blood ,pain and grief I have had experienced in my coldest night of dreams. It was now rotting,the person inside a well fabricated body was rotting because of the four walls he was caged in. I had to tighten my shoe laces even more stronger.

I left the place in afternoon carrying a side bag and a water bottle because the place I had thought of exploring were full of warm sun rays giving the idea of dryness it brought to my tongue that  was left tasteless,because I hadn’t had anything since morning. I caught the nearest metro and escaped the eyes of people who tagged me as a foreigner just because I was fair in colour and  being a non attention seeker I hated that. I knew they had been looking at my hair that was curly enough to shape my personality as one of the writer’s in town and as accidental it could be it was short too. I knew people in metro pointed at my get up that  was just a jeans and a jacket that I had bought long back when I had been in my home town. They peered through every space they could get ,also from the shoulder’s which were taking the support of a pole in the centre. They thought that I was unaware of there starring but I was aware though I didn’t mimicked them . I kept longing for my station which would be my first place to travel alone and I was excited to know the fate it would bring me.

I walked and stared at the narrow streets where till date at least one billion footsteps would have been marked by our master my being five ,let alone of my family.I stalked an old man’s wooden box covered with a very old white cloth so that the dust of the street would not enhance it’s degradation. I saw him counting something and my eye was directly on the different coins he had collected . They varied from era to era and recent . The one’s which had been expired as a result of new comers in the list. I just smiled and made my way.

I was followed by numerous rickshaw walla’s who thought of robbing me of my wallet ,only be cause they thought I was a tourist and had come to India for vacations. Had they little known about my individuality they would have buried my body into a sac and God knows what more would have I suffered ,had they known I was a Kashmiri. But ,I thank God of my voice and language that I was saved.

I went through lane by lane and entered into a monument which spoke to me. It spoke to me as I turned back to my life and I found hope. I found reasons to continue living and reasons to dream. This was a very strange thing but I could see faces of number of people who have entered in my life and exited . I had an experience of lifetime . I saw how world is filled with people of all types. I then recalled my suffocation in that four cornered room and thought of our master’s job which was to protect this balloon full of gas and I again praised him for I had a perfect life.  While entering this place I met with a peculiar incident  . As a mark of respect people from whichever place and status needed to take the shoe’s off so that the place remains cleaner then before. I did as I was ordered and suddenly a man with Kohl rinsed eyes and a Muslim scarf around his neck and a Muslim hat covering his hair and head approaches me with a smile and a Muslim way of greeting”salaam allaikum”. I said wallai kum salaam,and he asked for 300 rupees.  I was taken aback because I remembered as a kid whenever I went with my family to this place we were never asked to pay a ticket money and also people around me went free of cost. It angered me and I said with a loud voice “kyun bhaya”(why brother?).  To which he showed me a board on which the message was clear cut that only if I was a foreigner or outsider I had to pay them. I sighed and changed my language into my orginal and requested them to believe my individuality.  They happened to accuse me after showing them the skills of my changed dialect ,to lesson the pressure I showed them my I-card and hence I was relieved. The question didn’t come up for paying the sum it was of division between black and white. If I had been born with a black colour would I have been given respect as same to the respect I got while being fair?I just thought and as innocent as I was  the answer was “NO”.

Living in the city where still history rules the present one cannot help but be surprised at the various step wells one finds in the centre. These step wells mark the prison of that time for any ruler who could go beyond the actions. These step wells now were homes and shelters of various pigeons who had flight but needed a voice to shed off the  fear they had from the humans. In the evening that day I went to such  step-well “baoli” which to me was an inspiration. I could write about the well designed hand made walls and could write about the pigeons which went round and round the monument and left the audiences clapping. The sight was so mesmerising that one couldn’t help but start praising at the things he has bestowed us with. I chuckled within myself on a couple who made a romantic pose for a picture memory,had they known the sights the step-well had felt and witnessed they would have romanced in Switzerland rather in ruins which had  been a jail for many like us.

Being a Delhi wall-ah ,one needs to add up a spice in his journey to places his hand made map takes him.Because from a minaret to a bird everything inspires here and one forgets who came as a traveller and who went as an Inspired.

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-Jamia Masjid ,Old Delhi.

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-Ugersen ki baoli ,Hailey road cp.

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Larks and Owls.

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The graffito of life lies with lord
Being a lark my  body rises up ,

It sees the sun rising; praisng the world
Eyes close:light is bright ,

My area between the two eyes; feels sick ,
Something pierces it deep down. ,

Not a bildungsroman, but epic on my life
I watch him struggling to get out ; but din stops him,

Birds chirp , nightangle sings
Why then only my heart cries out loud?

I doze off with the blanket of night,
Owl is left in me , not a man ,

I am now perfect, unaware of false
Only correct dwells me not the conscience ,

Peace is what suits me
And not pain,

Because even night is the purest
Let alone the light glowing,

I am both larks and owls
I am both light and night,

If only I fail in being
Is the human that I lack to be .

And let your wings fly away !

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Soul breaks down
Heart breaks up,
You still breathe
Amid-st the sorrows of grief.

People did no good
You clapped via one hand,
Fingers of adolescence are lost
Hold your pen and fly.

Then and now there is a tale
Of you that is unread,
Because you are now changed
Change in you and atmosphere.

But everything is two sided
Like the reflection in the water,
You have got everything
Still there is an escaping.

Escaping from forever
Escaping from dreams,
Escaping from people
You now just need a cloak.

Then one second you kiss
The brow of the girl,
Who is a child
Though so close.

Close like your soul
She kisses you back,
Gives you the realization
And you let your wings fly.

Creation of new life ,Cheers to US !

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College has just started and we feel like sisters , have I been knowing Ill get a sister cum friend I had come to Delhi the minute mother handed me the bottle of milk . Skies would not have been more happier than watching us clicking pictures in the campus on the first day itself . Public might get horny on this fact but who cares because we had already a bond . From Kashmir I had come as a single hand but your presence made me the cluster of stars . From your tomboyish attitude to “why are you guys ignoring me” emotional one ,you always have been a friend which looks after everybody in the group . Not making anyone feel less miserable in the new place  . How hard you try to be girly the Sapna brother will never end :p. There are many people in my life who have occupied some of the definite places ,but you my friend will always be remembered even i breathe my last today . Here is just a short poem about the memories you have given me and the days we are going to spent in glee and happiness , Insha ‘allah !!:-

 

From the crowd you came to me ,as if I had to offer you something

the love you offered me , can’t be replaced  even by my death

people like you are crazy, yet to find is difficult,

because you introduce me to everyone as “your kashmiri friend”

I love the way you teach everyone the skills of brave ness

and I look past and I have no single friend in comparison

your love in your insults ,your angry look, oh boy 

ILL cherish in my whole life ,even i die tonight .

because you are my same bad -ass birthday partner

ill never let you go now , praising the co incidence in life

who cares about your no having place in our class

silly ,you already have made a place in our little home, called the heart .

Like A CHESS GAME !

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Clean it looked from far ,

all set for a war

the naive was standing in front .

while protecting the king .

They started with a move

struggling with a storm of plots

some started with their own ,

but some got lost .

Many got killed and many lost

but the victorious wasn’t always the one having crown

its about how wisely you play it

its about how safely you win it .

Deceptions and challenges are the basics

different ranks and one departure

all are set for being victorious ,

for who loves to be a loser .

I was  a king in the beginning of mine

deceptions made me a mere tank 

love made me a crosser 

the queen was the one who made me a horse !!.

Thoughts

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When each of us is born we are given as soul as if a
crystal ball…bright pure and shining….and this glitter
amazes us when we are small bt then as we grow
up…we ignore it….with time its shine tarnishes….and it
falls down again and again making it look like a big farce . And then the old same story is the new arrival of the show. The show of the life . The soul apparently loses the spark it gets invisible we try to get the spark back by praying but we are stuck between the materialistic and the spiritual world. Then it suddenly raptures ,someone takes it ,and what remains behind is the outline of our’s which was actually never created.