Raat

Kaha beh jaati hain woh raatein,
Jo kabhi ankahee si kahaani sunati thi..

Har naye suraj ki kiran ko,
Has ke odh so jaati thi..

Hissab nahi  tha use,
Kitne taare hain usmein,
Behissab mannaton ko sametey,
Ruse huon ko manaati thi..

Kabhi kaali, kabhi bhor ke intezar mein,
Kabhi andhi, kabhi bina hawa,
Hazaaron ko behad pyaar se apni,
Taaron se bhari god mein sulaati thi..

Kuch ankahi kahaaniyan,
Lamho ke sang baandh jaati thi..

What’s with 25?

Here's a total Punjabi way of looking at the number 25, when defined in age.

‘Haye ni, enni vaddi ho gayi aa’, ‘khaana kuch bana lendi aa?’, ‘hun taan aida vi socho balli’, are some beautiful lines which mean a lot only if you’re ready.

Difficult is a small word when you are about to articulate how you feel when the whole family wants you to settle down with a total outsider. Despite of the fact that they’ve been the ones who ask you not to talk to them. And passion is the most underrated term, in such kind of marriages.

Every girl on this planet wants to get married, trust me. But with so much pressure? idt things turn out to be that pretty.

'Cos the fact is that it takes years to first, figure out what we want to be. And then more such years to be. So all this while if you were thinking it is this simple, remember, it was never. It's almost like biting into a scrumptious red velvet cake, garnished with a lot of rose petals spread over a bed of THORNS.  

May be this is why they say, Laal-ach buri balaa hai! This doesn't mean that such pretty beings want to run away. This also doesn't mean that they want to stay with so much on. This just means that they need an equal space and time. And open thinking, that can change the game. 

They don’t want to miss on the love bestowed on them by their parents. They don’t want to lose a thing or compromise, to be apt. 

So, what's with this two digit number, 25? The years you spend with your natives to get trained to live for and with the total strangers. 

Strangely, NO. 

These are the years you take to know yourself. So that you can be someone’s forever. Someone who's going to be with you and take care of you. Someone for who you'll mean the world. Who will give you all the happiness in the world.

In fact, a little more. More than what you got when you got your first Barbie doll or when your dad surprised you with what you’d been craving for. It will be more than what you shared with your mom over that cup of coffee, pakodas and those tears which accompanied your loud laughter. More than your brother and your seriously-silly-fights over ‘ek maggi extra hain tere paas’. And definitely more than the hours you used to spend with your friends clubbing, house partying or playing ‘I never’. 

BUT

As you serenade to the second phase of your life, which this is. You’ll have a lot to know and a lot more to explore. You’ll never find the time to answer yourself. 

This will be the time, when you'll realize that "Once upon a time you used to be you" and now you are just so 'not you'. You will have more and more to look after than your own self. Your mom will no more feed you from her own hands, your dad will no more play with you, and your brother will only fight with you because he won’t get that ‘you’ back with him ever again. It won’t be the same EVER AGAIN.

This doesn't mean that things can never change ever. They could get way better, you know. 

So, if you're all set, you might just. :)

The Big Gold Fishhh

Just as that famous frog,

From the bingle bog,

I reign, I rule.

In my native pool.

I let not any fish

Play, stay or hide

But I love to make

Them to a delicious dish.

Once I widowed a

Yellow Golden man.

Fins of silver sand,

And bent,

That of a magic wand.

Then I rambled

A Ms. wheaty whitish.

Tore her eye

And ate her fin.

To her defeat

I got a rosie ring.

My ring lost its charm

When ran that

Orange Mr. Ho Ho-ish.

He wore his jewels

His rings on his fins.

At first, I bit his back

And stupid him,

Though as he lacked

The finest technique

To be my man,

Thought me
To be his

Lady for the evening.

I impaired his eye

And he lost his leg

This was how
I made him beg

‘spare me spare me

Oh! I beg’

Well, kind ladies let’s share

Him with a peg.

These head honcho’s

Got my dome

A thumbman once

Red hair, red eyes

With the orange lavalava

Hands in shape

As if wants a guava

I tried and cried

But he didn’t move

Or gave me a glance

Just as the other two.

This morning

I un-stoned him

To fall at the clay

His fell down

Made me gay

I let not any fish

Play, stay or hide

For I rule at

In-here

And this is where

I reside!