Sticking to the Guns..

After a self prepared heavy dinner, with soothing music pleasing the ears and the soul deliciously enjoying the platter of Tagore's words, why on earth did I remember him? No clue!

Okay.. now that I can't refuse to acknowledge the fact that though momentarily, the thoughts shook hands with him, I had to reach out quite shamelessly. (Yes, you can call it so!)

Now since I'm the one to approach him, my BIG FAT EGO bosses him to continue the proceedings and enthrall the gal. He almost does that for me, almost! Before I go on to spoil the party..

He says (or rather sings).. judaa ho kar bhi.. tu mujh mein kaheen..
And I sing along (or rather say, makes sense!).. jindaa ho kar bheeee...


The main intention of accompanying him is anyway ruined, but the spot of bother is that of the EGO. By no means does it want to back off, forget about admitting the mistake, it now wants to stick to the guns. "jindaa ho kar bhee.. haa.. ho kar bhee.. what?? Javed Akhtar, wanna try? Any other takers? Oh, yes.. please..

Meanwhile, I hang on with the thought, "jindaa ho kar bhee" for a li'l longer than required, just to get acquainted more. Something of it starts impressing me and I decide to flirt with it, only for a while though! And new fond love aka love-kinda-stuff starts occupying me enough.

jindaa ho kar bhee.. tu.. okay, save hindi / urdu! Lemme spout it out. jindaa ho kar bhee.. you've lost the "you" in me. You may seem to be full of life, but your thought in me has already been dusted. Nothing of you touches my inner chords. You can't tune them, you can't play around, "you" have been nothing but a kind of void. jindaa ho kar bhee.. tu mujh mein kaheen kho gayee hai.. that it's not even worth a tiny space.

I know that's crazy, sounds crap and you wanna call me names for being such a demoralized soul. Hang on! Aren't they "n" no. of people who walk into us, literally daily and just vanish off forever? We don't remember every single soul, do we? They continue to exist, it's just we aren't bothered. Hence, the flirting wasn't that bad an excercise.

"C'mon, you don't write verse or sing for such fluff?" might be your challenge. Agreed, that's the reason I neither wrote a poem nor sung it for you! Ahem, that's some justification. I know!! Living upto my reputation of being just too good at self-defence. :P

Well, Atif! Thanks dude, it was a intriguing half an hour, the one that just passed off! :) YOU ROCK!!