Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.
- Rumi

काळजी कधी सोयी प्रमाणे नसते; जर ती सोयी प्रमाणे असते तर ती काळजी नाही सोय असते.

I Don't Know

I don't know. I don't know what is reality. I don't know what is truth. And I don't know how I colour them both, and whether I wear any specs while looking at the harsh sun of life as it rises each day. Is it harsh or am I afraid?
I look at the green droplets, leaving my finger-tips askance and coagulating with the brown mud. Tell me, what colour are you eternity? Yes, I have been using green a lot these days. What do I do? I love that colour! And yellow too! And lavender, and red, and orange, and... And then I meet you, you earthly snake. What colour are you? You are a mixture of so many colours; but you are dark. No, I don't like dark, subdued, melancholy colours. But you exist, don't you? You are so real. As real as my eyelids and eyelashes. And as unreal. I cannot deny you. And I cannot pretend otherwise. Yet you are beautiful, aren't you? Curled around my neck, you trod me down on so many wise paths. Uphill you say, as downhill you pull. And when you spring from earth, and when we meet like serendipity, you always lunge for my throat, don't you? Always my throat. You absolutely love it, don't you? Alright, feed! What else do I say? There's a whole lifetime for that. But no, not always. Creep back to your black hole when you have to. You can visit only once in a while.
I am walking now, alone, with you cozy around my neck. Yes, yes. Have a good ride. Meanwhile I am smiling, laughing even. Each day I am pushing my feet towards the yellow of smile valleys. Yes, yes. We both have our writhing orgies. Writhing green orgies. Wait! Are you green? Green! But green... Yes, a very neat, cruel joke on me. I get it.
So what? I met a dream that day. And I realised I had carried it all along, hidden inside my many frayed layers. And now that dream dwells in my eyes. Do you see the stubborn glow in them? Or do you only insist on seeing the moistness? What is it that I hear? "I don't know"? Alright!
You be snug. You be content. But I am walking. I'm walking towards my dream.

My heart is not shards and pieces that I want to you to thatch and fill; I am a wholesome cloud that brings nourishment and new life - are you another cloud that wants to sail with me?

- Chandni Girija

मी कात टाकली

You see this muddied water? It's not mud. It's me. My blood. My sweat. My skin. You see, Im shedding this skin. It has taken time. More than what it takes for the snake. Do you think trees unbark too? Maybe they do. Slowly, like me. So slow that no one even notices. And they look the same, all the same. But they are new. I am new. New, you see?

Talking to My Throat

Thoughts clump together in my throat and form this painful lump. It's so funny, so funny. That I can physically feel my internal bleeding. I can feel it so, so intensely. They say it's a curse and a blessing to feel everything so intensely. True that. True that. But would I prefer it any other way? No. I am living, aren't I? Rather than existing. I am living these moments. And enjoying life, deeply.

Nonetheless, when I meet you in my throat, I do wish you would go away. I do feel fatigued by the pulling and twisting inside. I do wish you would instead manifest in flesh and blood, and stand before me. So that I could look into your eyes and drown there. So that I could breathe in the same air as you do. So that I could inhale your smell. Your earthy smell that drives me crazy. Simply your presence that unleashes drumrolls inside my body.

I wish you would make some concession for me. Have some pity. And release me from this misery. I do wish you erase your existence from my worldly realm. Disappear. Perish. Like a star in a black hole. Or annihilate me, completely. Don't leave me in this limbo. Please.

Yes, I am indeed alive.

When bathing with neem daily, thou shall be healthier. But thou shall taste bitter.

When a man doesn't talk, he becomes a sub-text for his woman.

Wait!

Stop, a moment, will you?
Lemme catch...
That drop of sunshine
Slipping from your lips
Won't you, won't you, pause?
I'm meandering flooded
In the barren land of your desire
I am naked
In the clothed world of your doubts
Stop, a moment, will you?
Lemme shred you
Bit by bit...
My nails are so raw
And my want, so old
Older than this world
She is so old
She sits by this empty bed
And cries a river
And turns it into a riverbed
Chaining me with the soft pebbles
Inviting you into its tenderness
Won't you, won't you, surrender?
Come my love
Let me destroy you
Consume you wholly
And let me create you newly
Let me give you...
A new birth
Stop, a moment, will you?

- Chandni Girija

Untitled

He drew silk, waved it about and lowered it on earth in black cascades of clouds.

She stood transfixed. She closed her eyes to the mad love his fingers made with the black and white keys. She surrendered to the serenade. She allowed herself to be drowned in the black silk. She smiled as she went deep, then she swam up and opened her eyes to the world and smiled again. She plunged again, and wept quietly.

He finished, and opened his eyes. He saw her. Something deep inside him curdled, and flew to surface, "Get outta here!"                  
She was startled out of her abyss. "But your music was so beautiful...", she gasped.

He continued to stare angrily.     
Suddenly she laughed softly and said, "You need to be hugged." She started to move.

A few steps ahead, she paused and looked back at him. She found him bent at the piano, sobbing.

Now he felt her stare and looked up.
Their gazes met again. Where she had seen anger, now lay a pool of pain and suffering. His lashes glistened with tears, somehow sending her a silent prayer, "Take me! Save me!"

Now she spasmed with another type of shock. She felt frightened by his want of her, something like her...

A part of her wanted to take him in her arms, and run her fingers in his hair. But... his need was greater than her, that would consume her totally.

She turned, and hurried along her way. This time she didn't pause to look back at him.

- Chandni Girija

तुझ्या बासुरित मी जीव ओतणारच होते
पण फांदीवर बसून तू हसताना दिसलास
मी मीरा होणारच होते
रुक्मिणीच्या कुशीत राधेला छळतांना दिसलास
तुझं गोंधन कपाळाला लावणारच होते
कुरुक्षेत्रात अर्जुनला चातुर्य शिकवताना दिसलास
काय रे कान्हा!
काल तुझ्यापुढे मी हरले होते
आज तुझं तूच हरलास!

- चांदनी गिरिजा

I Met The Dog

My feet moved on
Groping aimlessly
In a world dripping blue
Darker than the ocean
But vast as it

Fangled thought bubbles
Rose and burst
Rose and burst
Firing the senseless
Cacophony in my ears

I bled grey
Darker than the fog
But dense as it

The air was glass
Solid, impenetrable
I gasped and gasped
And then sighed smilingly
Yes, soon…
Soon I told myself!

Then I met
I met this dog
With a half-gnawed face
A missing ear
And a gashed chest

We met on the road
Me, lost
It, resolute
Our gazes converged
And left me aghast

I wondered, beseechingly
Oh, why go on?
On with such misery?
The dog just smiled
From its mangled mouth
And on it went
Where its purpose beckoned

On I went too
But the dog’s tail
Wagged in my head
If it had to see
What colour the world be?
Red?
Of anger, of hurt, of misappropriation?
Or black?
Of defeat, of finality, of nothingness?
I think it was yellow
Bright or faint, I don’t know
A yellow
Of hope

If it was so
So stupidly resilient, that dog
If it could grit its teeth
And walk on,
Why, oh why
Should I be so wise?

If the dog could survive
I could do better
I could create!
Bit by bit,
But build something
Different and away
From this non-entity, my life!
No, no, no…
Destruction was easy
Way too easy
I could do better!

I picked the crystal
Buried in my bag
The nectar of death
Twinkled in the sunshine
I threw it away
And...
Yellow, yellow, yellow
I chanted,
Yellow, yellow, yellow...

- Chandni Girija
(Exhorted by TISS Counselling Centre, Dedicated for 'World Suicide Prevention Day - Sep 10')

अर्धांगिनी

बस, बस ना चांदनी
डोळे मिटणे बस
स्वतःशी हसणे,
विनाकारण रडणे बस
नको नको ती फुलं
मावळली ती
कोमेजली ती
सुवास नाही,
दुर्गंध सुटे त्यांना
गुदमरणारा दुर्गंध

उठ, उठ ना चांदनी
बघ क्षितिजाकडे

पाठमोरी उभा आहे तो
बघ त्याचे स्नायू
किती सुंदर, किती खंबीर

दुखः, दुखतंय ना चांदनी?
बांध पट्टी नसावर
गाड ती सुरी
तसल्या विचारांना आता
अंकुर ही फुटायला नको

गेल्या, गेल्या त्या चांदनी
वाहून गेल्या त्या लाटा
आता तीरावर उभी तू
पायाखालची माती मऊ
चमचमित, लुकलुकीत
पण आत ओढुन घेईन,
भक्षण करेल  गं तुझं!

बघ, बघ गं चांदनी
एकटी नाहीस तू
शांतपणे उभा आहे तो
हाक ही मारत नाही
नुसता उभा आहे
वाट पाहत,
क्षितीज…

सूट, सूट आता चांदनी
वाऱ्यासारखी सूट
लाव कुलूप मेंदुला
पुन्हा हो बेभान
लाव कुलूप आठवणींना  
आठवणींच्या त्या कपाटाला
दाब मातीखाली
आणि पळ…
पळ त्याच्या दिशेने

बिलग, बिलग त्याला चांदनी
तोड हंबरडा  
काढ दात बाहेर
अन चाव त्याला
तुझ्या वेदनेचा
फुटू दे पूर त्याच्या मानेवर

वळेल, वळेल तो चांदनी
गप्पच हसेल
तुझ्या डोळ्यात पाहून,
"मूर्ख" म्हणेन तुला
आणि घेईल तुला कुशीत

रमशील, रमशील तू चांदनी
त्या ऊबीत, त्या गंधात,
त्या सुरक्षितेत
मग त्याच्या खांद्याशी
बोलताना, हसताना, रडताना
येऊन थांबेल एक थेंब,
लाल,
तुझ्या जीभेवर

गिळताना मग पडेल प्रश्न
रक्तं तुझं कि त्याचं?!
मग कडाडेल वीज एकदा
ढग सरकतील बाजूला
अन सुटेल कोडं

हसशील, हसशील गं चांदनी
आकाशाला तोंड देऊन
तोही हसेल  सोबत
उलटी करेल टोपली
जल-सुमनांची

ती नाही, ते नाही
ती आणि तू नाही
ते ही नाही
कुणीच नाही
फक्त तो, आणि तू
आणि,
फक्त
तू, तू, तू

मग घेशील हातात हात
अन चालशील त्याच्यासोबत
त्याच एकुलत्या, स्पष्ट वाटेवर
शेवटचा
शेवटपर्यंतचा
वेडी, वेडी गं चांदनी…

- चांदनी गिरीजा

(Thanks Manoj Bhandare for proofreading)

गीला गिला

कोई बचाये हमें 

खुद से
अपने ही कैद किये हैं 
खुद को.… 

चंदा दिखें तोह मुस्कुरातें हैं
बच्चें की नादानी पे हसतें हैं
कभी-कबार पतंगे भी उड़ातें हैं
लेकिन अंदर यह कौन रोता हैं?

ऐसी क्या खाई दर्द की
इसकी गहराई भी लापता हो
आखिर बताओ भाई
इस छोटेसे दिल में
कहाँ छिपे रहतें हो?

ऐसा क्या ज़िद्दी बादल हैं
जो त्योहारों पे भी मिलने आये
दिया जलाने जो झुखे
दरवाजे के उसी अंधेर कौने मैं
गीला-गीला भिगाए 

घायल रहने की जैसे आदत सी हो
सुखें जख्मों को खुरेदना
जैसे धार्मिक मजबूरी हो
अंगड़ाई कभी लेने लगें
कोई अंजाने डर से ही सिमटते हो 

गिला तो यूहीं करतें रहते हैं
मगर लड़तें कहाँ
अपनी ही परछाईं सें
हर बारी हार जातें हैं 

क्या आज़ादी मुमकिन नहीं हैं?
अगर इन्सान का जीवन
इसे ही कहते हैं
तोह देवता क्यों नहीं बनातें हैं?

कोई बचाये हमें
खुद से
अपने ही कैद किये हैं
खुद को.… 

- चाँदनी गिरिजा

Down that road again...

I happened to find a CD of my friend's fotos. Fotos used to be backed up in CDs those days. 2009. The third year of my college. The first month of the academic year. I grinned and laughed at the fotos and videos. And narrated in my mind, the specialness, the story behind each click to the person I tell all my stories these days. And when I finished, I quietly slipped back the CD to its original place. No sharing on facebook. No. Im too selfish to share these memories in public. Ofcourse, those fotos captured all the three batches of students studying at the campus then, the most important events then. But yet these are mine, my friend's on whose camera these were captured and other friends of our circle - parts and characters of our combined, entangled stories.
After I kept the CD back, something hit me. I paced about restlessly in the house. There was no warning. I tumbled and fell ingloriously, down the well of memories. I started speaking to them and the characters in them. I started missing them. The abandon. The youthfulness. The innocence. The carefree laughter. The dazzling confidence. The intimate safety and security  of friendships, of friends who weren't just friends, but family. The blushes and ecstasies of newly found loves...  I whispered weakly to myself, "Don't go down that road again, Chandni. You will get swallowed..." The present contrasted violently with my inner world of memories. I was hammered with spasms of pain. Of the person I was. Of the person I would never be again. Of friends who drifted apart. Because life became so different, complex, practical, and yet simple and clear - because you see, the paths ahead were illuminated for us, and they didn't happen to meet. Because, we grew up. We had to. Of those special ones who ceased to be special. Because they simply disappeared from life. Or differences that became irrevocable. Or simply because the need for them dimmed - in the face of other adventures.
Some I have left behind, and some have continued the journey with me. And I do suspect that some of the latter 'some' will be there till the end.
I particularly missed one friend. And why would't I? Can there ever be a replacement to that friendship? I realised with shock how much he had meant to me. Of what he had given to me in life. But now? He can't go back to the same him then. Neither can I. But dear one, my deepest good wishes follow you. May you find fulfilment and happiness in your path.  

Whatever happened to this pack of grinning, smiling, singing, dancing, fooling crackpots? I know what happened. Life happened to them. And what about those three years? We lived them, didn't we? We truly lived them. Gosh, we did, we did, we did...

Cheers, to the good old days!

- Chandni

Rebel Without A Cause

What is your name?
Ridiculous biscuit
And why that?
Bcos I melt in the mouth
Isn't that good?
No, it's mushy, and ridiculous
It means you are soft
And weak
Not necessarily
Quite ordinarily
No!
Yes!
You are different
I'm not crunchy
So?
I give in, unbidden          
So you'd prefer to fight
Yes, at least a nibbling one
But what's your purpose?
To be eaten
So you do serve it
I do
You do it well
I...                        
You want roadblocks
Not that way...
For the sake of notions
No...
You forget what you despise...
Stop!
Is in actuality your strength
My strength?
And what sets you apart
Oh...
You, an achiever...
Achiever?
Condemn yourself!
Yes, Im an achiever...
(Smile)
My softness, my strength...
(Louder smile)
That sets me apart!
(Twinkle in eyes)
(Content smile)

Toto and the Conversation

"Hi Toto!"

"Well! Don't give me that disinterested, floppy-eared look! Give me a small wag atleast! I recently saw a fb post on doggy language. I can see you are not very pleased to meet me. And mind you, in my time of dogs, implying when I owned them, I also did some serious reading on dogs in encyclopedias. That's how I make guesses, many a time wrong, of breeds of dogs I see on roads. I see you are a mongrel."

"I'm a dog, that's all. And as Ms. Kale says, the breed doesn't matter."
"So you refer to your mistress as Ms. Kale? I'm surprised by your display of pedigree."
"That's just my mark of respect for her. I don't know about this pedigree and breed, and I'm not interested."
"You are interesting. By the way, you are male, aren't you?"
"Ofcourse I am. You couldn't even make out from the name?"
"Well, I was not sure. And I didn't check your genitals. ... Oops! I'm sorry!"
"Don't be. Unlike you humans, we animals are not ashamed of nakedness. And since you can't detect the sex through our smells and other particulars, it is natural to do so the way you described. We do not feel insulted, the way a woman would feel insulted if a man stared at her assets. After all, don't you do the same to a newborn baby? As it's acceptable for the baby, it's acceptable to us too. As in the baby world, things are pure and equal in our world."
"Toto, what a speech that was!"
"Human arrogance! You think we are all dumb, incapable of observation and deep thought. How you pleat the hair of some of my brethen, how you dress them up in socks, coats and such stupid things, and post fotos!"
"I see you are in a mood of tirades today. And I see you are into social media. Maybe you drop in glances when your Ms. Kale works on her computer. I just stopped for a friendly chat, and you hardly reciprocate in a similar vein. But I agree with you. People get carried away with their indulgence in pets to the point of cruelty."
"Sigh. Alright. I'll try to be friendly. But don't think we are friends. Yet. But why seek me? You could have come a bit later when Ms. Kale would have been home."
"Oh, I thought Teju would have been home by now. C'mon! Don't flinch like that! Before Ms. Tejaswini Kale became your mistress, she has been 'Teju' to the likes of me. And I'm sure she's not addressed as 'Ms. Kale' at home!"
"Oh, I never get quite used to it."
"You are strange."
"Well, the interesting will sometimes be strange."
"Hmm. So, as I was saying, Teju wasn't at home, and I saw you staring out of the window with your paws on the sill. I thought you looked so sophisticated, it would be a nice change to talk to you. As it is, I'm quite tired of humans."
"I see you are quite tired of yourself too. Don't look so surprised. If you humans can study dog emotions, we too can indulge in the art of reading human expressions."
"Sigh... You are right. I'm not just tired of myself, I'm bored, listless and depressed. It's like I have aged too much and too fast, and I'm just 25! What do you reckon I should do? Don't give the usual dosage of spiritual advice!"
"Hmph! I, infact, have a practial suggestion."
"Really?! And what is that?"
"You should eat grass."
"Eat grass? You don't mean smoke grass?"
"Argh, ofcourse not! I'm sure you must have tried that to no avail."
"Not exactly."
"What I mean is you should eat blades of grass. Goats do that to fill their stomachs, and we dogs do to that to cure certain ailments."
"I thought those ailments were restricted to vomiting and diarrhoea."
"Oh, you know little of natural cures. Try it."
"I don't know ... How will I look chewing blades of grass by the road, like a goat or a dog."
"Don't be stupid! Just pick the blades as you would pick flowers, take them home and eat. But be careful while bending to pick. Some passing gent might be tempted to pinch your bottom!"
"I'll kick his crotch then! But if I fall sick eating the grass, I'll just have myself to blame!"
"Remember what Dumbledore said to Harry Potter in the last book? Just because this conversation is happening in your head doesn't mean it's unreal."
"Don't tell me you even read books! Or do you read them through Teju? But I don't think she has an interest in fantasy. Wait! Is it her I hear at the door?"

Amber Liquid

I hold it in my hand
Gloating over its colour
And the contours of my fingers

I roll the glass in my hands
Sip the fuel
Swallow its bitterness
And savour the sweetness
Of the paradox called life

I stand up
I spit out
Firecrackers outta my mouth

On and on I go
The smoke spirals up
And the sparkles twinkle in my eyes

Then I lunge for my veins
But my nails pull brakes
I pull soft tufts of hair instead

A frog starts croaking
Deep within my cracked throat
And a dam bursts
Out through my mouth
In broken, gasping laughter

Im laughing laughing laughing
Swinging swinging swinging

Im derisive
Im drunk

Maybe
Im just alive

- Chandni (29-03-15)

Mitra tu..

Mitra tu kasahes? Kovla hasnara. Khande aat odhun. Tujhi majhi maitrichi ti suruvat athavte - toh pahila greeting card, toh khulya maidanat basun script lihlela, mag na sampnare gappe. Ani aple gappe mhanje kashe! 80% tuch bolnaar. 90% hi. Mhanje suruvatichya kaalat te ajun proportionate asaycha. Pan aata? Mi fone kela, kinva tu kela, ki tu suruvat kasrshil varshaav sa. An mag paus-rajachi iccha hoin tevha varshaav thambven. Mi matr ek spectator sarkha hokar nakar, uttara, denar, thode prashn (tujhya badbadit jaaga urli tar) vicharnar. Ekhadi train sarkha tu yetos mitra ani jatos. Gammat watate tujhi!

Kay mahit. Aaj kaal gappe ashe honya maghe doshi mihi asnar - khup tatasth jhaley ayushyat. Ani aapan hi duravla nahi ka? 2013 madhe javal aalo hoto. Majhya vaeet kaalat tu saath dilelis. Mag punha sagla sukhavla ani apan aap-aplya ayushyat guntalo.  Apli maitri aplya doghyanchya ayushyachya taalavar naachat ani roop ghet aste.
Kahi prashn manat umathtat. Garaj bhaste, titkich ka maitri? Sukhi ayushyat maitri kholwar jaun jagta yeta kaama nahi?

Prashn kithihi aso, ani maitri kuthlyahi taalavar aso, aapan adhun madhun tar bolto. Gelyaveli bollo tevha tu tujhya prayatnabaddal kalavla. Khup chhaan watala ki majha mitra itka dhadshi kaam kartoy, swatahchi ani samajachi sakhali todu baghtoy. Tula urja dyayla mi tujhya pathishich ahe. Ani fakt hya nhave tar ashya pratyek kaamala ahe.

Maala aata baghaychay aapan mhatare kashe hoto. Maitri tevha paryant tar asen he nakkich. Kadachit tevha pan aapan asech rahu. Kinva, kay mahit, mansa mhanu khup badlun hi jau.
Pan je hi aso. Bhetayla hava. Khup diwas jhale, tujhi majhi mehfil jamli nahi.

Binta and the Great Idea

This is a short film that has won many awards. The film-makers definitely do not want to hide this fact - the names of awards keep zooming in your face for more than 1.5 minutes; and in you in your position can't help feeling irritated.

The documentary starts and maintains throughout great picturization of African nature and people. And it portrays the strengths of education and the issue of girls' education very interestingly - through Binta's narration of her school experiences and the story of her cousin Soda who is deprived of the same. A group of kids enact Soda's story and by the end of the skit the whole crowd pressurises Soda's father to send her to school. Meanwhile, Binta's father is enamoured by an idea which he takes to the Lt. Governor, who refers him to his senior, the Civil Governor, who again refers to his senior, the Governor himself - for the idea is so great! And what is the idea? To adopt a tubab (European descent) child. Why? According to Binta's father's knowledge of the First World, the latter has set an example of how the desire to acquire wealth has led to the mentality of extracting the maximum from nature and the tendency to take to destruction. To prevent this among African children, he wants to bring a tubab child who will grow up in the humble environment of Africa and acquire the knowledge to be happy. "This way when he grows up to be a man, he contribute to humanity, which is of concern to us all".

I now understand why this film got so many awards. Just one glitch - while there was so much focus on girls' education in the film, why is it so easily assumed that the tubab child would be a 'he', not 'he/she' or better still a 'she'?
Do watch the film.