सकाळचा चंद्र

निशा कशी जलमय होती
आता सकाळ असा दुष्काळी
जणू
मी तरंगत होते
एका भव्य लाटेवर
मग
निद्रेतच छटा कशा बदलत गेले
गडद...
मग फिकट
शेवटी
डोळे उघडल्यावर
निव्वळ, अनवाणी, पांढरा!
मी तीरावर येऊन पोहोचले!
कळलंच नाही!!
जमिनीवर पाय टेकलेत
आणि आता मी चालतीये
खिश्यात हात घालून
दोन-तीनदा माघे वळून पाहते
आता हसू येतंय
माझ्याच प्रलयावर!!

आकृत्या

माझे डोळे मधाळ आहेत
तपकिरी
प्रकाशाचा थेम्ब पडताच
निखरून उठतात
मी चालतेय
आणि मला आकृत्या दिसतायेत
चौकटी
वर्तुळ
लहान, मोठे
मी त्रिकोण
चालतांना पाहते
मावतच नाही
कुठल्याच आकृतीत
आता ओढ हि कुठे वाटते?
ओढ वाटली तरी
ओढ ओढून तरी कुठे घेते?
मग आकृतींचांही ओढ वाटत नाही
कसला चौकट? कसला वर्तुळ?
आणि कसला त्रिकोण?!
वाकुन पाहते स्वतःकढे
मला धूर दिसतं
स्पष्ट, रंगहीन, मोहक
हम्म...
हेच नाही का खरं?
हेच नाही का बरं?
कुठंही मावुन
मावत नाही
माझ्यात ही मावुन
मावत नाही
मी आहे
अगदीच आहे
तरी मी नाहीये
मी वाहतिये
- चांदनी गिरीजा

कारी जख्म

यह रोना हैं ईशक का
हर पिढी का गाना हैं
यह जहर हैं मीठा सा
हर कंठ में फँसा हैं
यह चिंगारी हैं 'होने' की
अस्तित्व का मतलब बनाने की
जिसे जमानेने लालसा से घी पिलाया हैं

धुंदले नजर पे जरा चष्मा बिठा दे
अपनी काठी खुद ही काट दे
यार अब बस भी करते हैं!!

- चा.गि. 25-07-16

Hide Tide :D

"नशीबत हा फुलांचा

का सांग वास येतो

हासून पाहिल्याचा

नुसताच भास होतो"

टप-टप-टप

पड़ती हैं बारिश की बूँदें 

और शुरू होता है यह गीत

समुंदर की लहरों कि तरह

पहले धीमे-धीमे

हल्का-फुल्कासा

फिर तेज

डुबाने जैसा

अाज खिल उठा है पूरा कमरा

मेरी हँसी की रौनक से

देखो

मेरे अपनों के चेहरों पर

सूरज बेहया अपना तन फैला रहा है!

रोशनी की किरण

मेरी अाँखों से जाकर

उनकी अाँखों में टकरा रहा है

और उनकी अाँखों से

दीवारों पर

दीवारों से छत पर

छत से फर्श पर

और बाढ़ की तरह

यह सिलसिला

बढ़ता ही चला जाता है

अाज खुशी से फुली न समाई हूँ...

- चाँदनी गिरीजा 

Jaded

matter, events, and even, or most importantly, feelings are so transitory. i sit at one window and watch the sunset one moment. i bask in its glow. i blink. or i sleep. when i open my eyes next, it is drizzling outside in a bright afternoon. even my window has changed. it is not oaky, varnish-y, angular anymore; it is splintered and weathered. so what do i do then? storm? rage?
a few months back, when i was able to see it, a part of me would laugh at this see-sawing. now i don't even feel that need. now it is knowledge, that existence has a lot of see-sawing. now, while i exist about and also see-saw, i also watch. i am the lizard with eyes always open.

[sleep is a strange rejoinder. strange not so much in itself, but the starkness of the different realities it enjoins. while one side of the night rocks and wheels, the other side emerges as mundane and calm. sleep is a curious netherworld. in the nether-dust, i sometimes meet slivers of myself in emphatic truths. and later, i forget. but sometimes, i remember, and go, "oh!"]

when so many waves arise, and i know they are waves, why would i ride them? i do not feel like. i do not feel like reading the news. are these not a few of the trillion bubbles that arise and burst, arise and burst? why en-bubble then?
'pursuit of happiness.' can happiness be pursued? isn't it that wave that will eventually tide down? or that bubble that will ultimately burst? i do not want to pursue. pursuit seems to be a force acting in opposite direction of Truth. why then? and what for? that 'butterfly' of Ruskin Bond?
"For all its hardships and complications, life is simple. And a nature that doesn't sue for happiness often receives it in large measure.
Happiness is a mysterious thing, to be found somewhere between too little and too much. But it is as elusive as a butterfly, and we must never pursue it. If we stay very still, it may come and settle on our hand. But only briefly. We must savour those moments, for they will not come our way very often..."

i am still. but not for that butterfly. fly-butter can come when it wants. i am just still. i am a still lizard with eyes always open. and i am gurgling with contentment.

P.S. the title is a misnomer. still, just, love the word.

Rain Again

You drizzle on my face
And at each touch of water
I feel pores
Opening
While I thought there were none
These pores
They expand
Like lotuses
And bloom into holes
Before I know
I have evaporated away
I am flooded
With you
I am frantically
Paddling
Gasping
For one last shred
Of myself
To pull myself out
Yes, I succeed
And here I am!

- Chandni Girija 14-06-16 23:42

none

there is a terrain beyond the earthly shackles of righteousness, pretense, selfhood and even rational cognition ... pure and pristine ... filled only with only the most organic and truest fibres of connectedness
who is there? me? a 'you'? nope ... there is no one there ... it is empty ... it is a 'none' 

I have no epiphanies to make, only silence - to seek, to dwell and to give. 

Singular. Separate.

Let's take that twig and break it into halves. You keep one half, and I shall keep one. Let's rub them against each other and rub longer. So that, one day, they shall catch fire. Then let's each of us, take the twigs to our mouths and swallow the flames. In a gulp.
We had had a twig. To share. Now we have fires in our stomachs. Singular. Separate. 

अखंड

Profundity. Silence. Quietness. 

Completeness. Fulfilment. Wholeness.

Peace. Stability. Centredness. 

Contentment. Smile. Clarity.

Acceptance. Wisdom. Growth. 

Truth.

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