RAAT BHAR GULZAR

Have you lived a "lonely nights wave". You must have. When you are having blues, and too empty to feel groovy. A series of nights, in the new moon phase. Keep an eye from now.. It's crazy. And it's Fun, serious fun.

The question "why the blues" is strongly irrelevant. If you spend the night, theorizing those hypo - theses, rather sub - theses which end up confused, loose their way in the flood of blue that lightens up the white sheet covering the empty half of your your half full bed. If the mysterious warmth of the emtpy half stabs you, let the blue beam cool it.

The mystery is known - a little girl with a face that brightens up the moon, had come in your dreams. She looked at you with silent eyes, and it was all there - "WHere were you"..

The flood is all over, it is a flood of Emptiness.
Yes it's when you cross the arid desert stretches where you have lost your way and at night. Even the arid desert stretch laugh at your empty, deserted vacuum where a heart used to stay.
You reach out for your own music gadget (the owners only own the special ones), eager to touch a quiet, blunt tinkle of a note that has come out of half finished sad song. Draw the lot.

Lo! Your tarrot disc is well drawn, Gulzar the poet..
You start sinking.

"is mod se jaate hain -
kuchh sust kadam rastein,
kuchh tez kadam rahein -
Patthar ki haweli ko
shishe ke gharaundo mein
Tinko ke nasheman tak
Is mod se jate hain..".

Gulzar rules still. I can still feel those goosebumps the day, I came to know the meaning of "tinko ke nasheman"..
What a poet..

A keen & eager journeyman,
He dreams of finding the meaning of Beauty somewhere ahead. Every experience as he cross the squares is recorded in his senses, and he releases droplets of life & beauty the way he has perceived. The listener/audience feels intoxicated.. The beauty of Truth, once felt, is addicttive...

A journey alright, the impatient strides of youth to slow cautious steps of the middle aged mind, the musaafir doesn't stop. He focuses his gaze on the farthest horizon, and sees the path ordained for the poet. His Pen dances as it goes on,

"ek door se aati hain,
Paas aake palat-ti hain
Ek rahe akeli akeli si
Rukhti hain na chalti hain..."

The Path reminds him that his love awaits him ahead in his journey - he can hear it frm the silence of the unruffled autumn leaves --
"yeh soch ke baithi hoon,
Ek Rah to WOH hogi,
Tum tak Jo pahoonchti hain,
Isi mod se jaate hain...."

Can you run away from this intoxication Nope
Dr.Anirban Chaudhuri,
Consultant Physician,
Mumbai, India.
Blog: ANIRBANSPEAK
http://anirbanspeak.blogspot.com
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"Whatever I did, I did it my way.."