reflections

Hi future lover ( a.k.a potential husband? well, people are already getting married!!) . Wherever on the globe you are right now, hope you're doing well. Considering the average number of people i come across each day (the metro is oh so crowded!), there might well be a possibility that we've already crossed paths! (Cheers?) We might even be acquaintances or say friends but looks like cupid dearest is all booked ( the valentine's week for now ) or in my case, might even be honing his skills since he keeps hitting the wrong guys all the time. I am writing this to discuss a few important things. First of all, i want you to know that being an old school romantic in a hook up culture is a special kind of hell. "What's up (read wrong) with all these people?" Yes, that's exactly how i feel. People rush. They're in so much hurry for no reason at all. "Come on peeps! Take a moment!" I want us to go slow at it, real slow, build it brick by brick. I ...

I can't say it. I can't tell him how difficult it is to keep myself from falling for him, each time he says something silly and a smile floats by my lips. Or when he subtly compliments me for something and all i do is blush. How my cheeks, in a flush of blood, go red. And that twinkle in my eyes when it's said. I can't tell him. How i long to hear him speak, When all i do is listen, to b e so deeply involved that i carry the rhythm of his words for long after and replay them in my mind over and over. I can't tell him. How with each passing day, he has got so intricately woven into my thoughts as if he had always been there or was meant to be. I can't tell him. How very effortlessly he just lets me be so unapologetically myself, without even realising! I can't tell him, That i smile more often now And that he is the reason. This and so much more than words could say, I can't tell him. Or maybe i just did.           ...

No, she doesn't have one. 'Dreams' as we do. Me and you. She doesn't aspire of flying up high. Stars never catch her eye. Nature's never been a thing of beauty to her. ' Wanderlust'? Perhaps she won't ever bother. Frail, young and submissive. Red feet, henna dyed hands. Clad in hues of matrimony she descends. Amidst cheer, pomp and show, she doesn't realise the hollow. The stark, dreadful reality that hides, beneath the glitter, the shimmer, the lights. She doesn't know. Poor girl, oh she doesn't! To her, it's all just a game. The little wedding game. Of dresses, anklets and bangles new. She doesn't care about all that's due. When all the glitter , the shimmer sheds within days, those traders shall have their ways. Her plight no eye shall see. Then? To her, it'll all be her destiny.

अजीब है ये ज़िदंगी भी और ये मन इतना चंचल एक पल इधर तो दूसरे ही पल फुर्र से उधर विचलित सा बेचैन, मस्तमौला, मनमौजी कितनी ही कोशिशें की हैं कैद करने की इसे ढालने की एक साँचे में बाँधने की हर कोशिश नाकाम। ठहरता है थोड़ी देर, ठिठकता सा है, इधर उधर और जितने में एतबार होने लगे ज़रा कि संभल गया, सुलझ गया आया ऊँट पहाड़ के नीचे, भग लेता है फिर किसी बहाने से सरपट, दूर परे उस नीले गगन के तारों के पार अनंत के आँचल में, उस परिंदे सा, जो पिंजरे से निकलकर अपने अस्तित्व की आज़ादी को जीता है। अर्थ- तर्क- वितर्क की भाषा कहाँ समझता है ये मन? इसे तो बस स्वतंत्रता समझ आती है उड़ान समझ आती है बागी, ज़िद्दी सा बेचैन, मस्तमौला, मनमौजी सा ये मन।।                                                          शिखा गुलिया

यादें, यादें ही तो रह जाती हैं वक्त को समेट लेती हैं खुद में, थाम लेती हैं पलों को। मुट्ठी में रेत सा फिसलता चला जाता है समय, निरंतर, अविचलित सा । पुराना, जर्जर, बेरंग सा वक्त का कोई दरवाज़ा, दूर किसी कोने में मन के, एकाएक खटखटा जाती हैं यादें । अजीब फितरत है इनकी, ढेरों मिजाज़, रंग, रूप। कभी होठों के कोनों पर तैरती हँसी सी दिखती हैं ये, तो कभी पलकों पर धरे आँसुओं सी। यादें, यादें ही तो रह जाती हैं।                                                            शिखा गुलिया

Away, Far and beyond. Sans fear, Into the unknown. A tale, of thrill and triumph, of blood and valour, of love and loss, of pride and honour. In life, unmatched. In death, immortal. Wrapped in tricolour, you descend in glory. Oh soldier! Son of thy mother, so great, I bow to you.

एक बिंदु हूँ मैं। अनंत  हूँ मैं। समर्पण हूँ, विश्वास की लक्ष्मण रेखा। मशाल हूँ, जज़्बातों की नाज़ुक डोर हूँ मैं। नदी की धारा सी बहती, एक पतंग, उड़ चली जाने किस ओर हूँ मैं। धैर्य हूँ, सागर की उठती लहरों सी विशाल। हवा के झोंके की ताज़गी, पुष्प की महक हूँ मैं। खनकती हँसी हूँ मैं। अनकहे बोल हूँ मैं। रंग हूँ, ख्वाब हूँ मैं। एक बिंदु हूँ मैं। अनंत हूँ मैं।।                                         शिखा गुलिया