This ain’t my country, this ain’t my soil

This ain’t my battle, and neither my toil.

But when they kill a man because of the color of his skin

I wonder in this country if justice will no longer win

We had barely stopped mourning, for those who lost their lives

Was the virus not enough to kill, that we took out guns and knives?

Did man not just succumb to his powerless unwilling state?

Was nature not enough, that we quickly turned to hate?

Although, this ain’t my country, and this ain’t my soil

Watching scenes of horror, still makes my blood boil

I might not be a victim today, but my color is not white

I pray we all see better days, for now it seems like a long dark night!

A picnic afternoon with friends while social distancing, a new rasam recipe that absolutely rocked our senses, fresh orange juice from our friends’ garden, amarettis and matcha cookies dropped off by our Ninja friend, sunshine, backyard tent time, birthday wishes for a 96yr old neighbor, binged on season #1 of Money Heist, chit chat with in-laws and my sister about the various things under the sun, and deep cleaning our bathrooms. Just a few of the things that made this weekend epic.

We’ve started spending more time on the deck under the shade of our giant pine trees. Tara and I go over in the morning and close our eyes and listen to the birds. And then we drink our milk and coffee and chit chat about the day. We do the same thing in the evening while Agam wraps up work and we wait for him to go for soccer with us. I got the deck done by sheer persistence. Agam was skeptical, as always ;), but I somehow clearly saw what that deck will provide for us. A quiet and shaded respite on summer days. And it delivers! As a bonus it also serves as my lyrical inspiration. Here’s something that took shape this morning, on the deck.

Give me the storm

And I’ll learn to sail through

Give me unrest

And I’ll find my peace

Give me the challenge

And I’ll cultivate the will

Give me a reason

And I’ll find purpose

Give me a dream

And I’ll make it come true

Just trust my word

Today, that is all I can give to you.

Oh what a wonderful world 🌎 

If I ask you to accompany me
To an alley full of possibilities
With no future no past no strings to last
Will you come?

If I ask you to see this world from my lens
And see it’s beauty in despair
With no promise to fix no intent nor care
Will you come?

If I ask you to let me be your shadow
For it has been long and windy road
With no need to lead nor to follow
Will you come?

Because, yesterday

I think you had asked me to stay back
You wanted me to walk with you.
Not too far. Just a few steps, together.

I think you had smiled with your eyes
You wanted me to acknowledge your glance.
Not overtly. Just a blink of the eye.

So, tonight if I ask you to join me
Let us walk side by side all night
With no promises no prejudices nothing wrong and nothing right
Will you come?

आज अगर मंटो ज़िंदा होता तो हैरान होता
पहले ज़मीन बाँटी और अब पहचान भी

जाने क्या हासिल कर लेंगे ज़मीन पर लकीरें खींच कर
ज़रा सोचो, क्या बांट सका है कोई आसमान कभी?

Just a tad bit sad about the affairs in India. Ended up writing a few couplets out of sheer frustration.

यह जो २४ घंटे मैंने घर पे बिताए

माँ का आँगन, सुबह की चाय

एक प्यारी सी नींद और

चुपके से दो चार आसूँ भी बहाए

माँ के कुछ परदे खूँटी पर लगाए

कुछ देर टी॰वी॰ देखा

कुछ ख़रीदारी की और गोभी के पराँठे दबाए

और दोपहर में ख़ूब सारी बातें की और फिर नींद के ठोंके लगाए

कुछ तस्वीरें दिखाई और तारा के बड़े सारे क़िस्से सुनाये

माँ की तबियत का हाल पूछा

और बस इतने में ही २४ घण्टे ख़त्म होने को आयें

और फिर चल दी समेट कर माँ की प्यारी दुआएँ

मेरी माँ अकेले रहती है

सुबह की चाय से लेके रात की दवाई तक

सब कुछ अकेले सहती है

मेरी माँ अकेले रहती है

आज सुबह चाय बनाने जब उसकी रसोई में गयी

तो उसके अकेलापन का एहसास पहली बार हुआ

नौ साल हो गए हैं पापा को गुज़रे

और उसकी रसोई में बर्तनों की कमी का एहसास आज ज़ार हुआ

देखने में तो सब कुछ है लेकिन

आज इस रसोई में रौनक़ नहीं हैं

किसी के आने का इन्तज़ार नहीं और

किसी के जाने की जल्दी नहीं है

धीरे धीरे सारे काम करती रहती है

किसी से कुछ नहीं माँगती

किसी को कुछ ना कहती है

मेरी माँ अकेले रहती है

सुबह की चाय से लेके रात की दवाई तक

सब कुछ अकेले सहती है

मेरी माँ अकेले रहती है

यह घड़ियों की आवाज़ कुछ ऐसे गूँजती है जैसे

हर पल को एक नाम देने की कोशिश कर रहा है कोई

क्यूँ बाँटा है समय को इन छोटे छोटे हिस्सों में ?

ऐसा लगता है हर साँस का क़र्ज़ उतारता है कोई।

To feel so loved, and yet so worthless at the same time

To be so frail and yet to keep your sunshine

To lose and yet smile and keep going on

And wait for yet another promising dawn

To be righteous and yet doubt your self-worth

To feel like a system’s neglected dirt

To hide and share and hate and care all at the same time

To be exhausted and yet appear to be just fine