how does the world keep moving?

Ruk jao, theher jao, tham jao

Let there be a vaccum all around

Let the air be heavy with despair

Let breathing become difficult

Make the taste go away from food

Take away the colors for a while

Ya kuch nahi toh

Thoda world ki lights ko hee dim kardo

Rok do sab kuch thodi der ke liye

Let us in this hollow

Listen to the gunshots being fired

In Kashmir, in Assam, in Jamia

Take away the comfort 

Of the hassle of every day life

Of a dying world that pretends

To continue breathing.

to the children who grew up too soon

May the adult in you have the strength

To be kind to the child inside

May you find playgrounds in offices

And chuddy buddies in bookstores

May there be giant teddy bears 

To hug you on bad days

And may there always be food

Hot flavorful soul filling food

May you create under your blanket

A room where you can cry and

Get angry and be fucking unreasonable

And may you find lovers 

Who love feeding these silly requests

I pray that you learn

That you are enough

You are enough

You are enough.

Tara.

Agar tum saath ho.

Tamasha.

Heer toh badi sad hai.

Heer. 

Kuch hai iss movie mein. Something fantastical, something romantic beyond the real, a theatre. It is my go-to movie for sad, heartbroken days although a reason for my broken heart is Imtiaz Ali and his screwed-up notions of love. But kya gana hai, heer toh badi sad hai. Dil khush kar dene wala sad song. My soul song. The happiest song for a sad person.

But aaj gungunate hue realize hua - it is Tara that I'm in love with. Ved is inessential. None of my dogs are named Ved (it's an important sign!). I love how she hums and dances and goes out for walks alone. I love the new year party she leaves to put on headphones and dance in the flowy white gown at home. I love how she sits at a cafe, pretending to read, waiting to meet the guy she's been looking for. I giggle at how she pretends to not notice him when he finally sees her. I love her smile when they finally go out on a real date. And I love, I love when she says "ye toh mujhe nahi chahiye" when the person she sets out to date turns out to be very different from the person she wanted to be with. I love agar tum saath ho, the strength to be there for the other. I love her courage to walk away.

Tara is the woman of my dreams. The one I want to be. That is the love story I keep seeking. 

I have loved myself at my fiercest. When I started running and my furry friends would run with me. Listening to music by a water body. Quietly staring at the world from the top of a trek. Dancing at the beginning of a zip line. Reaching out to the person at the next table who is crying. I love how I automatically shout out a hello to every cat, dog, cow, lizard, grasshopper, spider that I see. Asking the auto-wale bhaiya if he is familiar with the area and helping him with the directions out. Smoking a cigarette and walking leisurely through streets that once scared me. Walking. I love when I walk. I used to hate walking. I love me smiling gently looking at people and their weird antics. I love that I choose to be kind despite so much inside me hurting. 

Mostly, I love the choice to be gentle when turning numb would be so much easier. 

Tara is me. I am Tara.

Jab character itna bindaas ho, toh tamasha toh mazedaar hee hoga :)

When your best friend makes you feel small
Draw a dot on a white sheet of paper
And stick it on a white wall
Download a countdown widget and give yourself
97 days before it stops hurting
And every time it hurts
Remind yourself how far you've come
When your best friend makes excuses to cause
you pain
Expand your heart right up into a balloon
And hand him a pin
And every time he makes you feel small
You make yourself big again
When your best friend will no longer call
Let the tears fall if you must cry
Wait till your eyes run dry
Expand your heart to full length again
This time make it a wall

فاقہ - Faaqa - Starvation

فاقہ 
بھوکھ  میں سواد ہے انتظار کا
بھوکھ کہتی ہے کچھ دیراور روک جاو 
جیبھ بھیگنے دو ذرا
پیٹ میں تھوڑی جگہ بنا دی جائے 
ہر سیکنڈ کا مزا دوگنا ہو جایگا

فاقہ بس
بنا تیل کی گاڑی ہے
جسے روکنا کی اجازت نہیں 

Faaqa

Bhookh mein swaad hai intezaar ka
Bhookh kehti hai kuch der aur ruk jao
Jeebh bheegne do zara
PaeT mein thoDi jagah bana li jaaye
Har second ka mazaa dugna ho jaega

Faaqa bas
Bina tael ki gaaDi hai
Jise rukne ki ijazat nahin.

برہم - Barham - Enraged

'Rage' aajkal one of my favorite words hai. Pehle gussa aaya, phir 'rage becomes her' padhi, phir toh behadh gussa aaya, phir jaane kisi tarah usse redirect karke 2-3 poems likhi aur bhaagna shuru kar diya. I think it is symbolic of trying to run away.

Iss se pehle aap mujhe kisi mahaan controlled productive insaan ka darjaa de, main bohot tooti bhi hoon iss gusse mein. Kabhi gussa aise paet mein baeth gaya, ki 6 din bhookh hee nahi lagi. Ek-do baar chhup ke smoke bhi kiya. Kabhi 'Mard ko Dard Nahi Hota' maafik ek dum mann kiya ki kaash aankhon mein laser hota. Dishoom, dishoom! (Pretty sure ki laser marne se aisa sound toh nahi aaega).

Itna gussa hai na andar, kabhi kabhi samajh nahi aata iska kya karun. Meri therapist kehti hai I don't pay attention to how much it must be tiring my body.

The artist in me really badly wanted to make a portrait of an angry woman but kasam se online itni caricaturish pictures hai na of angry women ki gussa badega hee. The best picture I could find was of Safeena from Gully Boy. Ye waali -

Alia Bhatt sach mein kamaal hai! Har baar inke baare mein soch kar Safeena ke gusse par likha hua ye article yaad aata hai. As the author says -

"Ask any woman and she’ll relate dozens of incidents when she, too, wanted to express her rage through violence. Break bottles, break jaws, claw, thwack, pummel or thump someone so they rue the day they decided to cross her. Most of us probably won’t act on the instinct."


I know how badly I've wished I would/could.

I don't know Safeena ka gussa kahan se aata hai (ya kabhi kabhi sochti hoon kahan se nahin aata hoga?) Duniya jhand hai. But kisi bhi aurat ko khured ke dekho, neeche aag zaroor milegi.

Ye poem aur bhi interesting ban jaati hai, the more I think about it. I think gussa ek non-reciprocity se aata hai. Humko toh emotional labor ka incharge bana diya gaya hai bachpan se, par jab humara dard, humara gussa, humara care acknowledge bhi nahin hota, toh aag nahi lagegi kya? Aur phir bola, ki gussa dikhao bhi mat!

Mard bimaar ho toh aurat dhyaan rakhe. Aurat bimaar ho toh wo khud ka dhyaan rakhe. Aur jo 'woke' hai aadmi hum mein, wo kehte hai ki tum help kyun nahi maangi? Kya help maangna bhi kaam nahi hai? Can we not be too tired to even ask for help? And will you refuse to care if we don't tell you to?

Jaanti hoon bohot over-generalized lag raha hai. But baat karo apne aas paas ke logon se. Observe karo apne saamne ke relationships ko. Phir bolna kitna sahi kitna galat hai.

Back to the poem, where credit is due, pehli line Ghalib ji se uthaayi hai.

برہم

اسی پی شہر کی ساری ہوئیں برہم تھی

بدن، لہو، من میں چبھن تھی

کی نہ چاہتے ہوئے بھی

مجھے آج پھر تمہاری فکر تھی

اور یہ جانتے ہوئے بھی

تمہارا فون نہیں آیا

Barham

Issi pe sheher ki saari hawayein barham thi

Badan, lahoo, mann mein chubhan thi

Ki na chaahte hue bhi

Mujhe aaj phir tumhari fiqr thi

Aur ye jaante hue bhi

Tumhara phone nahi aaya.

P.S. - Found this piece of gold today-

kuchh to hassaas ham ziyaada hai.n
kuchh vo barham ziyaada hotaa hai

BASIR SULTAN KAZMI

نہ-خدا - Na-khuda - Sailor

Shabdon se ek aur shikayat hai meri. Waise toh kaafi logon se aur cheezon se kaafi shikayatein hai, but words mein ajeeb bandish hai. Humein rules mein phasaa diya hai. You have to be perfection, you can't be 'perfectness'. Aadmi handsome hee ho sakta hai, usse kabhi 'pretty' mat bulana. Kabhi pyaar se kisi ko 'beautifulest' bulaya toh blush ki jagah ek red pen se circle milta hai. Kyun bhai?

Meri zubaan. Mere shabd. Mujhe inhe todne do, modne do, taaki jo main kehna chaahu, wo keh sakoon?

Ab ek shabd hai Urdu mein - shaagird maane 'pupil'. The learner in me loved it. Tamanna thi ki kuch aisa word ho jo iss permanent state of being a learner, of being a pupil ko express kare toh humne isko bana diya 'shagirdagi'. Sahi kiya, galat kiya?

Aaj ki poem, نہ-خدا  (na-khuda) meaning 'sailor' par.

نہ-خدا 
نہ-خدا سے محبّت نہ کرنا
ان سے بس محبّت سیکھنا
ان لہروں بادلوں پانیوں کے لئے
قشتی میں بہتی کہانیوں کے لئے
سفرکے لئے
بس
سیکھ لینا
محبّت کرنا
پر پانیوں کے بیچ تم
نہ-خدا میں
گھر مت بنا لینا
ڈوب جوگی
ڈوب جوگی

Na-khuda - meaning 'sailor'
Na-khuda se mohabbat na karna
Unse bas mohabbat seekhna
Inn lehron badalon paniyon ke liye
Qashti mein behti kahaniyon ke liye
Safar ke liye
Bas
Seekh lena
Mohabbat karna
Par paniyon ke beech tum
Na-khuda mein
Ghar mat bana lena
Doob jaogi
Doob jaogi.

Invisible Men

You call women witches?
Men have the magical ability
To be absent even when they
are,  technically,  there
They can switch off
Go to another city
And pretend you don't exist
Which,  as a witch,
Sometimes I wish I didn't.

Men can complain
about disappearing
Because the dal had too little salt
And I
I am fucking bleeding
And I don't know how to leave.

حساس - Hasaas - Sensitive

Urdu ke saath rishta kuch ajeeb sa hai, jaise koi apna jise apna bulate hue paraya mehsoos hota ho. Aage padhiye, samjhati hoon kyun.

Do baras pehle, ek June ya July kabhi maine Urdu script seekhi thi. Phir zindagi mein toofaan aaya aur maine khud ko apni teacher se door jaate dekha. Unki yaad mein maine Rekhtaa Foundation ke aamozish course ko shiddat se padha, aur koi check karne wale ke na hone ke ba-wajood, har roz Urdu mein apne kisi favorite gaane ke lyrics likhe. Kabhi Tamasha film ka 'Chali Kahani' jiske lyrics aaj bhi kuch gehraai se mehsoos karate hai, toh kabhi Zohra Ji ki 'Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat' ki recitation sun kar. Bas, likhti gayi. Aaj bhi kabhi kaam par task list Urdu mein banati hoon, toh kabhi masjid paar karte waqt koi na koi shabd padhne-pehchan-ne ki koshish karti hoon.

Par dil khud se naaraaz hee rehta hai. Kehta hai, script toh seekh li, par shabd aate hai kya?
Aate hai kya?

Ishq Urdu ne sikhaya ki meri roz ki boli Urdu se bhari hui hai, phir kyun paraya lagta hai? Jaise ye koi subject ho jiska maine koi exam hee nahi diya toh shayad mujhe lagta hai ki I know but maybe I don't?

Anyway, ye sab hota rahega.

Zindagi phir toofaani hai, aur iss baar maine khud se likhne ka wada kiya hai.

Rekhta ke instagram page par roz ek naya word aata hai. Plan hai ki kuch apni kahani uss se jod ke sunayi jaaye. Zyada umeed nahi hai. Bas kahani likhni hai.

'Hasaas' ka matlab hai sensitive and I remember ki bachpan se hee main khud ko sensitive maanti hoon. Meaning badla bohot inn saalon mein. Kabhi senstive vs. emotional ka debate, kabhi mental health se iska relationship samajhna, kabhi biology, kabhi ise ek aurat ke nazariye se samajhna, aur kabhi bas iss mein doob jaana. Haal mein I was watching a video jo bola ki kabhi kabhi humara pre-disposition (dimaag ki wiring) hee aisi hoti hain. I thought main neurotic hoon - a tendency to feel negative emotions too much, but ab lagta hai wo definition adhoori hai. Shayad main negative emotions zyada feel karti hoon, but mein positive bhi utna hee zor se feel karti hoon. Isliye andar hamesha hee bhoochaal hai. Toh, aaj ki poem iss par hee.

حساس 
ترا دکه  بڑا تو مرا دکه چند 
مرا دکه چند تو ترا دکه خدا 
عجیب سلسلہ ہے یہ درد بانٹنے سمبھالنے کا 
جیسے وو چاہے جسکی چینی 
یا توہ کم یا زیادہ پڑہی جاتی ہے 
سوچو توہ سواد میں کیا سہی غلط

کھٹاس توہ زبان پر بیٹھی ہے 

دھندہ توہ آنکھ کے سامنے ہے 

ہر درد  بڑا

ہر خوشی چاند

سب کچھ خدا

Hasaas

Tera dukh bada toh mera dukh chaand

Mera dukh chaand toh tera dukh khuda

Ajeeb silsila hai ye dard baantne sambhalne ka

Jaise wo chaaye jiski cheeni

Ya toh kam ya toh zyada padh hee jaati hai

Socho toh swaad mein kya sahi-galat

Khataas toh zubaan par baethi hai

Dhundh toh aankh ke saamne hai

Har dukh bada

Har khushi chaand

Sab kuch khuda.

P.S. - Blogspot par main 2011 se hoon. Aaj pehli baar dekha ki yahan Hindi, Urdu, Punjabi mein type karne ka option hai. Bohot achcha laga :)

P. P. S. - Aap mein so koi Urdu par feedback de sakey toh bohot achcha lagega. Ye likhte saath hee maine bohot spelling errors recognize kiye par abhi kaafi kuch seekhna baaki hai.

An Implosion

There is silence, then I am no more, fragments of me

Float in the body, is that why the heart hurts, the mind is

Itchy, and the stomach is so full without lunch?

Tell me dear world, where do I go to weep, to shout, to hurt

Would you allow me to hurt at all?

My revenge plan 1: silence. Stone cold noiselessness

Revenge plan 2: shout at a brick wall, let the words lose meaning

Revenge plan 3: to smile, and say you don’t matter

Revenge plan 4: I want to slap you and stab you in the neck

Revenge plan 5: I will fantasize about stabbing you

Revenge plan 6: I weep, alone, into my pillow

Revenge plan 7: take the allergy medicines to fall asleep

Revenge plan 8: we’ll try mindfulness meditation to let it go

Revenge plan 9: rationalize and empathize till you become him

Revenge plan 10: maybe let’s give up on revenge

Can we please be friends again?

Day 97: I stab you in my dream

I wake up smiling. The world is okay, I guess.

Four puppies and a cat away
My horror dreams are about
Piercings in my body being occupied by maggots
Like my dream home being slowly chewed
By termites who show more resilience
Than the puppy who laughs and jumps
Despite a punctured chest
And a hollowed underarm
Is this the fear? 
Being empty
Or being full 
And slowly chiseled away
By the parasites of life
The anxiety bug that takes over my day
The carved out outline of our relationship
With no words left, no care to share
The therapist is still a week too far
The vet will be wet,  he needs a car
It is raining in our home town
My tears flood the house
The maggots are winning
Then tomorrow you'll be back
I laugh and jump
At your sight.

Is 10 AM a good time to be tired?

You tell me, if 10 PM the previous day

Was the right time for a sleeping

Black and brown baby doggy

To be run over by a car

And if 7 30 AM was a good time

For yoga, 8 30 AM for a bath,

9 AM to kiss your cat goodbye

And 9 30 AM to see a the lifeless body

Of a joyful puppy who was only now

Starting to become friends with you.

Is 10 AM a good time to be tired?

Is 10 PM a good time to sleep

When you have been driving the car since

6 AM in the morning, after all it is the wedding

Of the employer’s daughter and there is

Shagun to be gotten and mithai to be sent

But the mithai is not for you to eat

And the AC car, even though empty,

Is not for you to sleep

And how will you sleep tonight

After the death of a little puppy

That you wish you had seen.

Why is 10 AM is a good time to be tired

But 10 PM not a good time to sleep?