कैसे भूले

At home. Down with fever. Have nothing to do.Suddenly college memories creep in.The first day of college. Meeting new people. Trying to connect with them. Making friends. But the strongest memories that I will have would never exist without my best friends- Tuhina, Kannagi and Prerna. So here is a poem dedicated to them. Thanks for always being there for me. Love you guys.

याद है वह पहला दिन
हम मिले जिज्ञासु भरे आंखों से
एक दूजे का परिचय देते हुए ।

कैसे भूल सकती हूँ
वो दिन
दोस्ती के कटघरे पर खड़ा करके
मेल-जोल की कोशिश करते रहे ।

कैसे भूल पायेंगे
वो रात
घंटो भर लोगो की खिल्ली उड़ाई
भूख लगते ही दूसरो के दरवाजे खट खटाई ।

कभी न भूल पाएंगे
वो एहसास
जब एक, गालों को मोड़कर बोली-
'अरे मेरी मोटी। तुम बहुत बोलने लगी हो । '

यह तो भूलना मुश्किल है
वो अन्तिम दिन
दूसरी, दौड़कर आते, कसके गले लगकर बोली-
'चक्रो! मुझे छुट्टी मिल गई । '

वो दिन भी महत्त्वपूर्ण रहेंगे
जब परीक्षा के पहले
तीसरी के साथ सीड़ियों में बैठे
गानों पर सिर हिलाते थे ।

भूलें से भी न भूलेंगे
वो दिन
जब हम बहुत झगड़ा करते
और ठीक हो जाने पर रोते हुए गले लग जाते ।

कैसे भूलेंगे यह पल
कैसे लौटेंगे वो दिन
बस यही दुआ करते है मित्र
कि यह दोस्ती हमारी बरक़रार रहे ॥

I am a Writer, not a Journalist

The four weeks of my on-the-job training dawned a realisation in me. The realisation that I am not a journalist but a writer trying to be a journalist. The reasons-

• A journalist writes to sell, a writer writes to express.

• A journalist writes for people, a writer writes for herself/himself.

• A journalist does not have the freedom to write anything and everything. A writer has the creative freedom to write anything.

• A journalist writes what is acceptable, a writer does not care about the acceptability quotient.

• A journalist needs facts, a writer needs inspiration.

• A journalist has to think to write, a writer's account is free flowing.

• A journalist tries to find a 'peg' in everything. A writer just observes.

Hence, I am a writer, not a journalist.

Wandering Part VI

"Where is the might of the pen lost? Wasn't it supposed to be mightier than the sword? Then why has it been replaced by a plastic board of chips, circuits and blocks? Will it be able to fight the same battles as the long stick? The smoothness of the paper has also taken shape into a harsh screen called the monitor which cannot be made ugly by the scribbles of the pen. My handwriting does not define me anymore (as I don't WRITE but TYPE)

Technology really changes the world....

And adds to the nostalgia. "


I type this post and wander.