Friday, December 22, 2006

Between the pages



Often in your books
I discovered dried flowers
And in my books, the winds
That dried them

In winds like those
I go out, wearing, these days
A checked woollen muffler
Around my neck
Considering its two ends
Your two arms

I do not know, what is there
In this song:
Beqarar karke humen yun na jayiye…
Loneliness or its panacea

Today, I almost knew
When in the cupboard
Beside naphthalene balls
I found, in an old copy of
Gustave Flaubert’s Sentimental Education
Between pages 210 and 211
A stamp-sized picture of yours

Years have passed and
I could never tell you
But today, as I saw
You smiling in that picture
I found myself muttering:
Aapko humari kasam laut aayiye…

(This poem appeared originally here)

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

that indeed has so much depth in it!!!!

Anonymous said...

That was so beautiful.Love has finally caught up with you.Shouldn't we help others also taste this wonderful divine recipe?
Come,let's start a love movement and remove terror from the minds of not-so-grown-ups.
Ved
(ved321@rediffmail.com)

Nomad said...

Been through some of your writings...absolutely wonderful...all of it.

jasleen said...

this poem enhances the song (beqaraar . . . ) even more but I am still caught up in the imagery of your words. . . waiting for the next one.

Anonymous said...

Beqarar karke humen yun na jayiye
Aapko humari kasam lekthe jayiye

Anonymous said...

Dear Rahul
a month has gone by and yet no words form you, your writings are confirmation to your readers that things are good, u are fine and doing splendid. But this long slumber you seem to have gone into gets us worried. do come out of it, and tell us that we were worrying needlessly, with one of your lovely poems. tell us that u were ,experimenting different ways of gifting ur liver to your beloved, thinking up of words to describe her beautiful eyes and that u were going through vvg's lust for life again for inspiration.

Gaurav said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Puja Upadhyay said...

Each yearning different from other, in it's tiny details. In the song hummed, in the lyric that refuses to disappear. A waft of forgotten tune, dancing on the wind and we wonder...what it would be like...to wakai see them again...लौट आने पर, और क़सम से, कितना ख़ूबसूरत लिखा है।