What a day??

I was elated and the whole throng,
Girls were clamourning a cheers song.
We frabjously watching the cricket match,
One after one enjoyed the defenders catch..
My team won the target,
Hollering high like never willing to forget.
People saw our lively craze,
Thought we would never win the first race..
Second was the round and fielding was ours,
But I went fret, lost my glasses, finding for hours.
Everything seemed unseen for me.
Everyone thinking of how will I play and see..
A girl lended her specs,
Took it n gave returns on cheeks with pecks.
Playing but thinking it was very expensive.
And my mother will slay me, there I went
pensive..
Exhausted and remained silent after lossing,
Sat down glumly with wet eyes in a way
displeasing.
Swagata yelled, ur opticals are here,
There I won the match when my buddies chase
after me for a cheer..

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A stranger’s cry

Here are few words to the unknown person who hurted me in a way nobody else did. 

This has been very impacting, the words still bang my head like marijuana. Even though I didn’t know much about you, I had no idea of the vulgarity of your mind which was so flithy for me but beautifuly coated with saccharine tales and rains with utmost fake sympathy. I sigh almost in tears for the words I never ever imagined to hear from anybody, but you broke that thought away henceforth believing that Satan did existed in the harmony of Angels. We could have been such good friends talking secretly about you to my besty that ‘Maris is so warmest being’. You didn’t had any idea how much I respected you and your struggles.  I wonder how could you do this to a stranger like me who had been happily good to your gestures ever since I Mailed you. That mail just said to take care of my favourite thing and you took a revenge of my kindness.  I sigh my pity on you that I cared for you beyond I thought I would do. 

But my dear, I still have care for you and never wish to accept your apology because you were in anger and wrath does Mahabharata. 

I just want to tell you that everything you did,hurted me and the challenges are really unbearable, the consequence is worst, you making me alone in such darkness that I  wish to sleep in weepy rain and wake up in never.

Waiting October 

And today I read your excerpt. I could not hold myself writing this to you that I miss you so much. I read your every word of glory and pain over and over again to find myself some where in the words of blue. No matter how hard we try to pretend but this overflow of emotions allow us to eject the sadness from skin to bone.

Everytime when I am low, I read your letters to make myself normal to act but this terrorist life took your letters away from me and I could not find it again,I tried hard to look you in every hole which smells like you,Alas I failed . I weeped in the memory of our love.  I weeped in the memory of you. I called out your name several times and the voice echoed in the sky leaving me faded in the oblivion like after the death.

Now I wonder how to take ride with my dry heart which seems so sound when asked, ‘How  doing’? Maybe I would listen to your voice thrice a day and cry on your every dedication towards me which is still evergreen like your name I scribbled at the back of my dairy. I know that you hurt yourself by walking barefoot on the terrace with iron nails tickling your fingers and sitting under the sun for hours till it burns your skin. I know that you smoke and intoxicate your veins. I know that you no more visit your favourite places where I and you had spent hours of the day talking about how love gave us wings to fly. 

I know every bit of you.  And I even know if you read this you would die a little more from inside being peculiar for another one week trying hard to flush my memory again. But my darling, you and I know the truth of our togetherness which won’t ever leave till we cease. I still find myself standing in the ocean when somebody asks me if, ‘I ever loved somebody truly’ or ‘Did anybody ever loved you with his heart in the hand’ ? 

This is not a realization.  This is still my first ‘Hii’ to your ‘Hey’ , letting you know that you are completely in me, I saved you in my gallery and now my heart sings a song of your name. 

 I miss the vibe of October every year willing to find you in the temple where I caught your sight, wishing to meet you again in the hymns of Devi, but that doesn’t happen. I satisfy myself with the excitement that ‘October will be back again without you’. It cuts me deep but the only thing that I have today of you is the attendance of this month every year.

Final Goodbye 

As I walk down the streets that remained the witness of our love, I hear several voices calling out your name. 

People laugh at the way I smile, they act odd when I talk and walk through the woods with you, their eyes behave insane. Two of them didn’t closed the door as I followed your voice through the areca trees. 

I heard them discussing ‘black magic’. They don’t believe my insanity for you, they dont believe the love I hear in those moist leaves. 

Even though you are not with me, I often sit here and write our story under that tree but with no stain words on the pages . I go home with the silences. 

The silence of the final goodbye..

Dil mai chubne laga hai khaar koi!

Aj Mai kisi ki patni hun, kisi ki bahu, kisi ki nanand aur na jane kitne risthon se mai bandhi hui hun. Haan Meri shadhi ko pure panch saal ho chuke hai. Subah jaldi uthna, waheguru ko  yaad karna, kbhi maa ka chehra samne aajana, rasoyi mai aloo chilte hue haath kaat jna.  Ye sab meri zindagi ka hissa ban chuke hai. Kuch hisse mjhe kayi kisse sunate hai jo  kbhi mere the. Dekhte hi dekhte mjhe chipte hue chand ki adaat hogyi, 

Mjhe apni hi barbaadi se ajeeb si ibadaat honi lgi. 

Iska matlb Mai apni zindagi mai bhot aage bardh chuki thi. 

Arsa hogya maine apni syahi se uska haal nhi pcha, 

Kaise dikhti hai ab wo? Mjhe nhi pta. 

Kaise rang mai aati hai ab wo? Ye mjhe nhi pta. 

Abhi bhi wo mjhe pehchanti h k nahi, mjhe bilkul b nhi pta. 

Abhi bhi mera kalam uske sath chalna chahta ya nhi? Mjhe nhi pta. 

Abhi bhi wo ambar k neele firdaus ki tarah hi dikhti hai ya padhi padhi wo sukh chuki hai?  Mjhe kch bhi nhi pta. Kuch bhi nhi pta kyunki mere dard ki abaadi itni ho chuki thi ki zameen hi nhi mili kch kiraye bhi dene k liye. Hum beghar hogye aur isilye saiyaan k ghar chal padhe. 

Mere saiyaan yani ki rahul ko padhne ka bhot shounk hai, 

Unke samne kitaabon k dhair lga do wo khushi khushi padh lenge. 

Mjhse bhale hi wo thak jayenge,mere liye waqt bhi kbhi unke pass nhi hoga par kitaabon se fursat se marhaba karte hai wo. 

Rahul aksar mjhse apni achi lgi hui cheezen sunate hai. Ek din Mai sofe pe chai k sath baithi hun aur unhone mjhe baithe hi baithe kisi k chand lafz sunaye.Mashallah Bhot gehre lgye.  Bhot hi pyaare lge mjhe. 

Kch din baad unke mu se maine alaag bol sune jo ki uss din se bhi behtaarin the. Mere chehre pe alaag si muskan ayi, alaag si dard bhari khushi mehsus hui. 

Jaise jaise din guzare Rahul mjhe apni laazmi cheezen sunate gye sunate gye. 

Jaise pinjare mai ek kaid kabutaar ko rakha jata h aur wo bhul jata h ki uske peeche paar bhi lge hai aur wo bhul jta h ki usse asaman mai udaari maarni bhi aati hai.  Waise hi,thik waise hi mai bhi bhulgyi ki mai ek shayar thi. 

Rahul ki kch cheezen mjhe khatakne lgi, wo shabdh mjhe andar hi andar jaise chune bhi lg gye aur chubne bhi lggye.  Mano jaise mere shabdh koi aur likh rha ho, mano jaise mjhe koi chupke se dekh rha ho har roz aur meri dastaan bayaan kr rha ho. Mano jaise wo kahani bas meri hi ho aur mere liye hi likhi gyi h. 

Mera dil chilana lg gya, kehne lg gya ‘Ye mera dard h, ye mere jazbaat hai’

 Mai iss soch mai padh gyi ki kaun hai wo shayar jisne mere saiyan aur uske piya ko ek hi dafa mai uski kavitaon ka dewana bna diya. 

Jaise hi maine pta kiya toh mai dang rehgyi, mai sunn padhgyi. Mere pairon se zameen hil gyi ho.  Mai hairat hogyi. 

Ye wohi shayar h jise mai panch saal pehle jnti thi. Jo kbhi mera tha. Jo mere bol bolta tha aur mehsus krta tha.  Ye wohi shayar h jo mera zamana bhi tha aur aavam bhi. Jaise hi zindagi ne mjhse meri shayaariyan aur sadeeq chena waise hi mere shabdh mere andar hi dafn hogye. Mai likhna bhul chuki thi. 

Par mjhe kya pta tha mera pyaar, meri kahani mere hi dard ki syahi se aur kch iss tarah pura kr rha h. 

Mere Dil ki zameen pe dard ne kch iss tarah hastakshaar kiye, 

Zamane ko usne apno shabdhon se ishtehaar diye.

Boon and Doom (My Assam) 

Assam is a state in North Eastern India known for its one-horned rhino,archeological sites, tea plantation, silk plantation(mekhala Sador, eri and muga) , famous for Bhoot Jolokia which is the hottest chilli in the world, also known for the longest ruling Ahom dynasty of India which ruled nearly 600 years, Digboi- Asia’s oldest oil refinery and the first oil well in India was established here in Assam. 

Me being a part of Assam, born and raised up in the Assamese colour,I have literally seen a lot of issues which only Assamese people face. Many people do not know about Assam,which is also a part of seven sisters of North East India. Now when I talk about Assam,it includes all the problems in regard to the state,whether it is political issue, cultural issue or emotional problem. In this regard I have a lot of experience myself as a native citizen. I am a Sikh born in Assam often being labelled as ‘Assamese’ and they criticize me for having being born in the jungles. When i talk to a stranger who belongs from South and tells me that, ‘How come a Punjabi in Assam, why so far’?  I mean South Indians are born in Jorhat(Assam) too. Quite a people misunderstand the infrastructural development of Assam.  Assam is surrounded by the bamboo trees and evergreen beauty with waterfalls,tiny cottages and resorts around.  Assam do have Mercedes-Benz and Lamborghini, escalators, five stars hotels, pools and Golf Clubs.  To my surprise people have a wrong concept about Assam and Assamese people, to others it is a peripheral territory just because it is little aside from the other Indian states and closer to East Pakistan (Bangladesh).  This misconception of the people that Assam is a ‘terrorist state’ ,that the people there are insular and nitwit in manners is totally something I don’t agree to. I am safe in my land for years and heard none about the bloodshed activities. Infact when somebody asks, ‘Why don’t you fly out of Assam’?  

To those of them, ‘I am safe in my town and I hoot can’t live without ‘Sa’ (Tea) and ‘Tamul-pan’ (Piper betel leaf and areca nut). Though my blood pertains to the land of five rivers (Punjab) but my heart belongs to the corridors of the ‘Namghar’ (Prayer House for the congregational worship with the community)to the smell of ‘Brohmoputro’ (Brahmaputra) and the movement of Bihu dance by crackling that hip and back with the music. Assamese culture genuinely taught me how to carry myself in the society,with the flawless ‘Mekhala sador’ wrapping my torso with the beautiful attire on my femininity. This silk saree can be found just here, and there are people who will say ‘How do you manage to wear saree daily’?. My fellow that is not saree, that is ‘Muga Sador’ ,and yes that is in our culture,where there is a love for the tradition, there is a pride to flaunt. 
My land provided me the best of everything accept that of the only thing is the use of ‘Accent’. The medley of English Assamese and Hindi Assamese is the problem I personally faced being a ‘Sikh in Assam’.  It was just after my matriculation I entered my college and I had ti face the lectures in Assamese language. It was a most difficult hindrance on my way.  I was befuddled. I was lost in the Phonetics of that speech because I could barely understand why the English word ‘Glass’ was pronounced as ‘Gilaas’ and ‘Change’ as ‘Sainz’ ,while the Hindi word ‘Sach’ was pronounced as ‘Sas’ and ‘Khush’ as ‘Khus’.  That was the same with my name ‘Randhir Kaur’ which was spelt as ‘Rondhir,  Rondheer,  Rondhi, and finally Rondheer Kour’.  I realized that the vendor on the street spoke the Hindi in an Assamese tone and again my senior batch mate spoke English in an Assamese tone. Bolt from the blue, there were not one or two with the same pronunciation but there were and are so many, infact the whole population of Assam follows it. If Assamese is strictly Assamese then English should be firmly English.  Every language should be properly presented with correct accent and pronunciation. I am disappointed when generation after generation is deceived. And then the Assam comprehends why we are treated differently and trolled every time for our pronunciation.  


*I am trying to undermine the basis of Assamese belief. No offence,to hurt anybody’s sentiments and culture.*

Sorry to my lover

And one day I escaped without telling him that I am going to break us both,but not with the intention of doing anything. It happened very abruptly. As I blinked and opened my iris everything was shattered. Everything was vanished in a fractions of seconds, the promises which we made, the bed sheets which we crippled, the fragrance of our love in my clothes, the fandango in which we slightly shaked our bodies touching by looking into the eyes and you at my lips with the right hand on my neck.  The love tale which we tighten up in one room seems to loss the grip from my wrist. My thread of love is so strong that even from a mile I could tell what thoughts are into your mind. But the thread went feeble, I tried my best to jot a knot but I don’t know which colour of the thread ruined our outfit of love. 

You celebrated every normal day with me with extra love and care, you dedicated your every little step of achievement in the name of me.  It is funny that whatever you did for me and you kept doing,that person walked away from your life one day all suddenly , but even after tremendous pain, you still talk to me to find a way to my heart. And I break that thousand times. 

It is not that it didn’t hurted me, it hurted me the most as I ran away from the feelings which we owned. But it hurted me even damn more when I thought of being someone else’s lady with the a ring of his name.  I could not see you dying with this thought infront of your eyes that ‘I am not yours,and you are mine’.  So I trudged. 

But what i feel is that my decision made you finished and die the day when I left without saying a word. It is like the sudden breaking of the glass on the floor. Similarly I broke your heart.  I crushed your soul into nothingness.  I tramped on your feelings. I disconnected the veins of your mind to heart.  I broke your hands so badly, that I cannot find your hand on my shoulder today.  The love which made you feel heaven and safe.  That love left you with nothing but only with deepest pain of forever.

I miss me.. 


I used to click pictures of nature and me, 

Listening to my father’s favourite ballad and quarreling with elder sister , correcting my mistakes and some times grabing the coffee and cuddling my ownself in the soft blanket, suffering the hurt on the knees alone with the medication of ‘boroline’ or ‘dettol’. Everything was normal. And I was so happy being that a person. How beautiful was I when my world was only me. Nothing mattered to me, nothing bothered to me because I was not anybody’s responsibility. Gay were those hackneyed days which was my harmony. What has now happened? How a presence of a person made my everything absent? Even the petals have turned old of my sickness. 

Love you are, you were so pure. Pain you were,you are a cure. 

Layers in layers nothingness prevails. Have a good ride deary soul. I miss the old ‘ME’. used to click pictures of nature and me, 

Listening to my father’s favourite ballad and quarreling with elder sister , correcting my mistakes and some times grabing the coffee and cuddling my ownself in the soft blanket, suffering the hurt on the knees alone with the medication of ‘boroline’ or ‘dettol’. Everything was normal. And I was so happy being that a person. How beautiful was I when my world was only me. Nothing mattered to me, nothing bothered to me because I was not anybody’s responsibility. Gay were those hackneyed days which was my harmony. What has now happened? How a presence of a person made my everything absent? Even the petals have turned old of my sickness. 

Love you are, you were so pure. Pain you were,you are a cure. 

Layers in layers nothingness prevails. Have a good ride deary soul. I miss the old ‘ME’.