Pudhil Station...Pune Vidyapeeth!

I wonder how countless people carry loads of stories with them everyday and everywhere.
Right from waking up early in the morning, performing their daily chores, gushing out to the streets and losing their own identities among others in just a fraction of time.
Some want to get a decent job, rest want a handsome pay.
Some want a life partner, rest a partner in crime, if i say.
Some want to break away from the routine life and start their own ventures but fear make them stumble and uncertain in such a random world where your destiny is governed by a society.
A society that creates its own rules and slap them on your face just to prove that you have lost your significance living a life lacking of comfort and full of deprivation.

One such life was carried forward by a boy named Pankaj. He was twelve, hence a school boy.
He was a usual in the PMPML bus stop at Ravet, a place in the suburb of Pune.
A city which carries more vehicles on its roads than Aamchi Mumbai is well discussed in the Buddhijeevi section.
Pankaj used to travel a total of thirty kilometers, changing two buses daily and mostly standing with other men and women packed inside with no space left to move hands or look for the next station. He was accustomed to his life and he didn't bother. He knew his life is never going to change for good.
"Aye..Ladies seat, baher ye!" shouted a 40 year old lady to the boy.
"Ho." Pankaj offered her his seat and started moving towards the exit of the bus as he was not sure whether he will get another seat next stop.
"Pudhil Station.. Pune Vidyapeeth. Next station... Pune Vidyapeeth." Announced a lady from the  pre-recorded system which was a new topic of discussion for the daily commuters. Some will say that technology in public transport is much needed and a few will disagree saying that it's their own money getting siphoned off and thus is the outcome.No such appreciation at all. To the conductor, he must get the fare from the commuters or charge them fine if fare not paid. To the driver it was just a normal routine, a kantaal tiring drive to Hadapsar depot .Long two hours drive. No such expectation at all. But for Pankaj, it was the only female voice he had in his life apart from his elder sister, an elderly mother and a regular girl from the next bus stop. He fills with joy everytime there was a recorded announcement and he would mimic and say, mimic and say until or unless the bus stops, "Ha Station....Pune Vidyapeeth..." cause he would know, she has arrived...on time like everytime.
Just when the bus arrived to the stop, from the rush of people shouting and jumping over the already crowded bus entered our pyaari si nanhi si Kavya. Drumrolls please!
Kavya was a year older than Pankaj who used to study in a girls high school which was just a walk away from the boys high school. Everyday she boards the bus alongwith her three girl friends shouting and making space and securely getting near to the driver's seat. Such is the benefit of one's short height and big glasses. For Pankaj, these glasses are no way normal. They would make her eyes appear larger, her round blue eyes just like marble. Pankaj loved playing marbles so he carried 6 marbles everytime, everywhere. This time also he was carying them inside his school pant's both pockets. No cotton,no candies, just marbles, that's it. When he saw Kavya, he took out the larger marble from his white pant's right pocket and tried showing it to her. Kavya, as usual was least interested. She was thirteen and very much proud of her age. "I don't talk to kiddos like you." With a grin on her face, she dismissed Pankaj and moved away from him.
Pankaj didn't bother. As usual he would raise his eyebrows and pucker his face to show his dissatisfaction and how much he cared for her.

What is it feels like when you get a reason to smile. When you get a reason to forget all your worries and fill your mind with the very thought of feeling special? There is a story in everybody's life....Let's explore the life changing story of Pankoo a.k.a Pankaj and Kavya a.k.a Kavita.
~~to be continued~~

Click here to know what happens next- http://www.sarkartimes247.com/2017/08/continued-from-previous-part.html

~~P.S~~ 03.082017

शोर...हर तरफ शोर

बहुत शोर है...
आजकल

तेरी आवाज़ नहीं सुन पाता
तेरा चेहरा नहीं देख पाता ...दिल दुखता है...दर बदर तर बतर
यादो के कैनवस पर रंगों की कलम नहीं चला पाता
यह रंग भी बेरंग हो चुके है लगता है
लगता है यह रात भी ऐसे ही गुजरने को है.
शोर..हर तरफ शोर

मुझे याद है वो कॉलेज की गलिया
जहा अक्सर तुमसे नज़रे मिल जाती थी
हलचल सी एक मचती थी माथे पे लकीरे तन जाती थी
तुम्हारा वो मुस्कुराके देखना
तिरछी नजरो से घायल कर जाना
आज घायल मन को दवा भी रास ना आती है
मंजिल के सामने होके भी सांसे थम जाती है
बहुत शोर है...हर तरफ हर जगह हर दफा

मुझे याद है वो चोरी छिपे मिलना
हॉस्टल के गलियों से भाग कर तुम्हारे घर की तरफ बढ़ना
दबे दबे पाँव से थमें थमें साँसों तक
तुम्हारा गुजरना भागना चहकना बहकना
यह दरमियाँ आज ठिकाना पूछ बैठी
हमसे तुम्हारा पता पूछ बैठी
लगता है यह शोर तुम्हे दूर लेके चला गया
मेरे सपनो की कायनात को तुम जला बैठी

आज भी मेरे मन के किताब में तुमको मैंने लिखा है
चाहे जितना भी दर्द हो सुकून मुझे तुम में दिखा है
जानता हू मुमकिन नहीं तुमसे दुबारा मिल पाना
पर हा..मेरे मन के अंतर्मन में तुम को ही रखा है
मैं जानता हू यह दुनिया बहुत छोटी है
कही न कही तो तुमसे जरुर मुलाकात होगी
और उस दिन तुम्हे भी एहसास होगा
यह शोर ही है सीने में जो तुमसे ही आया है
तुमसे ही जायेगा तुम्हारा होके रह जाएगा

हर तरफ यह शोर तुम को मुझ तक पहुचायेगा
तेरी आवाज़ को मेरी धड़कन बनाएगा
सुबह कि पहली किरण से तुमको यह जगायेगा
यादो के कैनवास को रंगों से यह सजायेगा
रहने दो जरा सा शोर जिंदगी में
तनहा हमसे न जिया जाएगा

लगता है आज यह दिन ऐसे ही गुजर जायेगा
शोर..हर तरफ शोर

बस यही शोर रह जायेगा
बस यही शोर रह जायेगा

~प्र.स~

Demurring the Dalliance...

Yes I was wrong
in my own perspective
Giving it all up for the ante i had created
once for you and now for myself
Wrong in the correct sense
with ephemeral love of yours
Your glamour made me blind
Blind from within and closed out
Fearing the ultimate opulence will spell its cast on me
I hesitated a lot thinking about us
About you i was null
About me i was dead
Miracles do happen i thought
I collected my conscience and ran
Ran away from you and your feelings
The thorns of the poor little love was hurting
Bleeding my heart blue i came back to you

You held me up like a criminal
A filth surrounded my soul
A hatred anguished with dark desires
You became my nemesis my dear little love
Like a Pyrrhic spoilt-brat
I wandered here and there and where not
Lastly lost you to a silly mistake
An unknown identity faked by the truth and decorated with self pride
My heart stopped and i fell down
I saw my own downfall unto you
Like a feather falling apart the bird unknown about its destiny
Flowing with the wind and shifting shapes from within
Black, blue, green, yellow, struggling for mellow
Burning from inside and losing my face
I surrender and seek penance now for the misdeeds
for the promises for the hope for the ultimate sacrifice

I was not the one you dream of
Never been so wrong and would never question again
A new lease of life is a far possibility now
I will die like this forever
Demurring the dalliance i would happy pass away
would never argue would never crave for you
My emotions are all wrought and gone
I will not look back will never come back
to you
will never come back to you.
No and Never.

~~PS~~

A Book Called 'Relationship'

Yesterday i got a book
A book called 'Relationship'
It was hidden, kept in an old box
Dusting the dirt off my shoulder
I took the book gently into my rough hands

First it felt like a feather...gentle and sober
The title was blue italics and underlined
the author was Anonymous and pseudonymous
Disguised like my feelings to handle the book
I thought would be easy and carefree

It started with an I..an I everytime
I searched for the "You"...oh dear where are you?
I kept turning the pages until i find the "Us"
and that changed my complete perception
A belief that may not be so true

There was the story of a boy
who was stuck somewhere, confused and deterred
who feared the consequences of the beautiful smile
the rosy cheeks, blue marble eyes
The struggle of love and despair

A gentle breeze followed the kite
Blue with Yellow Thread Tied so right
The kite was fearful of the stormy winds
The thread was strong and helped the boy
The boy was happy he won the race

Few pages were missing
I thought to complain
But wait,
Who am i to decide the author's fate?
Let him skip some bad realities
Let him add a few beautiful lies

I slept with the book when i was tired
I kept it inside my office bag
I read it every day and night
Cause it's the book called "Relationship"
And i was new to it

I cried that day when i lost the book
it was gone like a bad memory
But i found the missing pages beneath my pillow
They don't make sense to me
Cause i lost the "Relationship" and i can't add the pages anymore
I cant add the pages anymore

I went to the road where i last walked
I searched down the street and coffee shop
I went to the bar and the multiplex
The supermarket and airport lounge
Every single step was like a ring with a broken heart
A diamond with a blunt face
A pen with a slit nib
A mirror with a broken glass

With the burnt pages deep in my heart
I knew somewhere the author will weep
I'll wipe off the tears and mend the soul
I'll fix the nib and fill the ink
I'll make the cover Red Bold and Capitalized
I'll write a book called "Relationship"
And it will not get lost anymore
It will not hurt you and me anymore

It will not hurt you anymore
not me anymore

Con  Amore.

~PS~