With the Lord of the Rings musical, with music by A R "born a day before me" Rahman, opening in Toronto this week, the legend is back in the news.

And guess what else? If you watch the latest Owen-Foster-Washington thriller, Inside Man, directed by Spike Lee, the opening credits featuring a montage of New York City, feature the track "Chaiyya Chaiyya" from Dil Se. No, not as way-back-in-the-background music as some tape playing in a taxicab - its in the SCORE. And the Punjabi MC remixed version plays with the ending credits. Isn't that cool? I mean, this is way past "Hindi Sad Diamonds" in Moulin Rouge - this is the entire track. And in true Hollywood style, the song is incorporated in the background score CD.

And with every movie featuring a South Asian actor or character, and now, music, is it long before Indians break into the mainstream?

Ok. So Being Cyrus.

When I first heard of this flick, I really assumed it was a Being John Malkovich-type flick. Well, I was wrong about the premise, but Cyrus does adopt a lot of the darkness and surrealistic approach from Malkovich.

The movie falters towards its close, after building a severe amount of mystic hype - and a certain degree of skepticism as to whether the end will justify the means. Saif Ali Khan does a stellar job as the enigmatic Cyrus Mistry.

The movie highlights the characteristic strangeness of the inter-breeding Parsi community, and the director accurately captures almost all of their idiosyncracies. But, when it comes to the crux of resolution towards the end, this dikra has a significant downfall.

Another hour-and-a-half songless flick that captures your attention and makes you want to turn to Bollywood and go "more like this, please". What pleases me about movies like Cyrus is how far they deviate from the stereotype. This is definitely a hallmark of the new breed of Indian Cinema, which will define the next 100 years. A few slaps on the side in the story and screenplay department, and this train will be chugging back on track.

"You try not to (think of the negatives). I think that's what all golfers do, we rationalise everything. You hit a bad shot, it's not that bad. You should always try and look at the glass as half full. There's always a bright side to everything, you've just got to find it sometimes." - Tiger Woods after dismal putting at the Players, yesterday.

And therein lies the issue. Finding it. Identifying it. And most importantly, it being enough. It never usually is. And this is not just pessimism. Its pretty realistic.

I would write more. But I'm still recovering.

'pardonne! pardonne! pardonne! you are peeing on my shoe' - Bernaise from Mel Brooks' History of the World - if you haven't seen it, rent it now!

A thousand apologies to everyone who reads my blog (yes, all two of them) for not having posted in a while - as I am engaged in a reminiscent and hedonistic jounrey (note: alcohol causes typos, because it contains the homoprotein, typose. it also kills my non-existant humor cells) as part of the 10th Anniversary of PM weekend. I would love to give you more details on our escapades, but I'm sworn to cult secrecy on this.

But its great to be back on campus, and catch up with old friends! Bringing back killer memories of Philadelphia. Breakfast at the Food Trucks, before rushing to the classes I actually attended (yes, all two of them). Steiny-D. Pottruck. The Quad. Locust Walk .. and of course, the mecca of musical stages - Irvine Auditorium. Will post pictures soon (the censored ones, that is). Until then.... adios ... and a dum-ba-dum-ba-dum to you too ;-)

Deep Pockets

What would you say about a movie that was made on a production budget of $25,000, and ended up grossing over $600 million? You'd say its pretty darn suckcessful, innit?

Well, that typo was intentional. The movie I'm talking about is Deep Throat, Gerald Damiano's directorial sleazefest that ushered in the sexual awakening of the 70s, and brought Linda Lovelace into instant stardom. Although the movie has the strangest premise, faced miserable controversy, skyrocketed a country-wide furor over Obscenity laws, was funded largely by the mob - but developed the grounding for what forms one of the most successful LIMO businesses (a management term for Less-In-More-Out) in the world - grossing over $57 billion worldwide - for what is essentially an underpaid, low production cost, initial investment - gold mine or not?

These thoughts are courtesy of the new exposive documentary, Inside Deep Throat, outlining the sexual revolution of the 70s leading into the volcanic burgeoning of the adult industry - all owed to this one movie that broke the ice, but with catastrophic results for its cast and crew - especially Linda "Lovelace", who met a tragic end in 2002 - while the San Fernando Valley Lords continue to thrive as the Sultans of Smut.

Thought-provoking, no?

Christopher Nolan deserves a shrine or two!

A man who could come up with a screenplay like Memento deserves god-like status. What genius!

I have also concluded as of yesterday that we are a disposable generation. The few of us who have no qualms, no scruples, no hyper-emotionalism and no preset commitments to our master plan on life - are the ones who don't end up curled up in depression. The ones that do, are terminally ill. Not just because they are hanging onto the value system of the generation prior to ours, by the thin, splitting thread of belief, but because when reality saddles up, gallops at them and bites them in the ascot, it will be too late for them to change who they are.

After that seemingly pointless diatribe - just 'cuz your life has no imperfections in it, doesn't make it perfect. just cuz your life has no perfection in it, doesn't make it imperfect. Its unnecessary for there to be drama in your life, because when there isn't it feels like its in abeyance of some kind, and once injected, drama stays in your lifestream for a significant span of time before wearing off.

Everything is temporary. Everything is disposable. When life itself is so unpredictable, why do we bother so much with a an un-quantifiable entity like commitment?

As I feel I said is most succinctly in "Khayaal?",

Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?
Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud, hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...

The Government takes your money...

Processing takes your time ....

Your boss takes your enthusiasm ....

Citizen White Boys take your fiancee ....

Green Card takes your hopes...

Wait times take your patience....

Marlboro Man takes your lungs....

Life...

Life takes Visa ... the H1 visa ...

(brought to you in part by the Immigration and Naturalization Services, a.k.a. Satan's Mischievous , Red-Sword-Yielding Dwarfs)

(Major Creative Input: Zeenat Rasheed)

Its drastically evident that age has caught up with Al Pacino, but that doesn't mar his complete dissolution into his role. Watching him in "Two for the Money" (pathetic script, btw) was a revelation. Can't imagine this was the same guy who played the ambitious Cuban immigrant in Scarface. His portrayal of one of the most naggingly complex roles of his career (aside from Insider which was inspiring as well) was legendary - its totally worth watching this suffering-from-loss-of-screenplay movie just to be in awe of the histrionics of Pacino.

No, No, Not Greenpeace. More like St. Patrick's Day, where everyone parties their paddy off. Had more than my share of $3.5 Irish beer and sheesha for a lifetime.

Allow me to soberize

Before I forget, comments of the night:

Nick: "With boxers, I'm just flipping and flopping, my boys need a home!"

Nita: Doesn't the Empire State Building seem kinda phallic, this time of the night?

Nick (again - on a f***ing roll): Lady Liberty looks like she could give some phenomenal head (yes, the HQ of the group at this point is pretty high - horniness quotient).

Vish: What time's the 5-o-clock bus leave?

Becky: Lets not start sucking each other's d***s, just yet (no, she's not like that. just quoting the Wolf from Pulp Fiction - or so the official story goes).

Becky: If I do throw up on you tonight, just know that I still love you, ok?

Good times, people, good times.

"You know what I didn't get about Shah Rukh in KKHH - the skin tight pants and the fagbag!" - Erika ....

It took me a while to figure out what a fagbag was, until I realized that she was talking about a 'fanny pack' (which sounds so much better, doesn't it? so much more masculine).

Ah, Erika. Tu es tres hilarious!

Insaaniyat... Kahaan?

(Spoken through the voice of a helpless old man, at the hands of sword-wielding religious terrorists, who question his 'mazhab')

Agar hindu ho tum, to musalmaan samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe
Agar muslim ho tum, to hindu samajh kar, maar daalo mujhe,
Agar khoon karne se tumhaari pyaas mit ti hai, to maar daalo mujhe,
Agar tumhaara imaan ise insaaf kehlaata hai, to maar daalo mujhe,

Kabhi, apne wajood par ghuroor tha mujhe,
Kabhi, is insaaniyaat ka karta tha mein sammaan,
Abhi, ek tarah se dekho to mit chuka hoon main,
Ab insaaniyat hi nahin rahi, le lo tum meri jaan,

Kyun khade ho tum aise, uththaao apni talwaar,
Is andhe qaatil ko kardo, mere seene ke paar,
Banaado mujhe is jung-e-mazhab ka shikaar,
Isme tumhaari hi jeet hai, aur isme tumhaari hai haar.

Meri duniya ab tumhaari hui,
Mere anth se gale milaa rahe ho mujhe,
Mera mazhab hi mera gunaah ban gayi hai,
Aur maut hi bacha sakti hai mujhe

Yeh masoom bachchon ki cheekhein, nahin sun sakte hai yeh boodhe kaan,
Yeh vehshat nahin bardaash hoti, le lo tum meri jaan,

Mere dost, is gunehgaar par kar do yeh ehsaan,
Is zindagi ki qaid se azaad karo, le lo tum meri jaan,

Par khuda ke liye, ya bhagwaan ke liye,
yeh baat kabhi na bhoolna tum,

Aaj ke din, tumne jiski li hai jaan,

Woh na Gita padta tha, na padta tha Quraan,

Woh na hindu tha, na tha woh musalmaan,

Woh bilqul tumhaari tarah, tha …. ek insaan

- Vishal

America. A land where you saw your dreams and opportunities come true. The land you came to after leaving it “all” behind. And today, as you stand in awe and admiration of the magnificent Statue of Liberty, amongst a crowd of New Yorkers on their way to work, what do you hear? You hear this. “Did you hear that Abhishek and Rani are carrying on? Oh my god, yaar!”. Yes, it’s the invasion of the “desis”, who have arrived to burst your sweet “I’m-away-from-home” bubble. Desis, desis everywhere, not a whitey in sight. Desis are like ants – we migrate in hordes. We’ve formed dominions of influence in places as spread out as South Africa, Canada, U.A.E. and of course, the “States” (a truly desi reference, as if it’s the only country with that kind of divisional policy).

And this is America, today. A melting pot of Hispanics, Asians, Africans, Europeans and “desis” (or in a more politically correct classification – South Asians). An inter-continental smorgasbord, if you will. A land where white people are soon diminishing into a minority. Most Americans, however, have a very ambiguous outlook towards Indians and India. They think that we can do only one of two jobs in America –manage convenience stores or code software. And contrary to belief, most Americans still think that back home, Indians are snake-charmers, goat-herders or inept call center representatives. Although the awareness is building, it still needs to be purported on a vast scale. And movies like Bride and Prejudice aren’t helping as they still show Indians as a bunch of over-zealous, elephant-followers. Yes, I agree we have a wonderful culture and oodles of tradition – but we also have a metropolitan side to India that needs to be portrayed to the world through popular film. Bollywood, are you listening?

Whoop that Trick!

Until I saw Meet the Fockers, I thought that the terms "number 1" and "number 2" were Indian-isms. Or maybe, something the British left back for us. It was funny to see Robert DeNiro use it. It gave that crap some class.

"Walk Out Like Somebody Born into Color" - Rumi

Kya hota hai pyaar aakhir ?
Ya chaahat ? Ya dillagi ?
Ek paththar bhare raste ke mod hai ye,
Jise kehte hain zindagi - Vishal

No, not comparing myself to the genius of Jalal-uddin Rumi. Just trying to outline by contrast, a distinct non-positive current in my writing. I say non-positive, because its not exactly pure negative. Its around the same precinct, but a few blocks away. On the slightly sunnier side of town, but with clouds looming over, threatening to rain.

I guess that's just how life is, innit?

"Relationships should be symbiotic, not parasitic". So well said by one of the few people I know who can bring 7th standard biology into a convincing comparison in a discussion about relationships. This "acquired taste" chooses to remain pathologically anonymous - but you know who you are - thanks for the awesome conversation!

Oops! It is not Ismail Darbar singing "Tore Bina Mohe Chain"- but Ustad Rashid Khan!

Thanks for that bit of info, Mom!

"Eclectic Fusion"

So I turned DJ today and was messing with two tracks. "Tore Bina Mohe Chain" from the Background Score of Kisna - which is basically a classical rendition by Ismail Darbar, and "Right Here Right Now" from the OST of Bluffmaster.

What resulted ... of course, in extreme ghettoness of a per-minute crashing and trial version of Audacity .. was rather interesting.

Check it out here

And btw ... now I officially go by .. DJ Vishal.

We complicate things. A lot. I think its the nature of the beast. Simplification is just not a part of our inherent system. We prefer drama, albeit subconsciously. Why can't things be different?

"Swathi said what behind your back? Uh-uh, girlfriend, you got to stand up"

HAHA! Sepia Mutiny rocks! (Image and Caption Courtesy Them)

Get this - "An argument broke out between US security personnel and the management of the [five-star] Le Meridien Hotel in New Delhi on Wednesday over the accommodation of 60 sniffer dogs that are part of President George W Bush’s security entourage. The US Embassy booked 70 rooms in the hotel in the Indian capital, where Bush will travel on Thursday. However, the hotel management was surprised to find that the rooms had been reserved for dogs".

Dogs? That's mean. Meridien Management, please don't talk about the President's chief advisors in that tone! He prefers that you refer to them as his "four-legged canine confidantes", with whom he shares his most personal thoughts, and whose opinion he considers equal to his own. Based on their woofs and fancies, Dubya has made some of the most key political decisions that have shaped his policy - the war, tax hikes, pooper-scooping Katrina, Social Security - which have made him the wonderfully loved, approval-laden President that he is today. In fact, you remember that scene in Fahrenheit, where Bush is informed about 9/11, and he sits quiet for nearly 15 minutes before leaving for D.C. - its only obvious what was going through his head. "Gosh, what would Rufus do?".

In other news, thanks for sharing your opinions on pro-choice and abortions, Dr. Parita Sahani ;-) Very profound info from a very insightful person :-)

Much Respect! MUCH respect!

For Terence Howard. From the Memphis accent, to his portrayal of a broke pimp trying to make it big in hip/hop - his performance in Hustle & Flow is off the hook! Highly highly recommended movie! I love the way the songs build up - esp. Hard out here and Whoop that Trick. Caught this flick again on Demand yesterday, just for that trademark elevation. But its not the kind that 8-mile gives you. H'n'F is a little bittersweet. So many variables.

All in all - recommended viewing. Makes you really think about whether you're wasting your life doing something that you think you should be doing - or whether you're in it for the ride?

As Notorious B.I.G. put it - "Either you're slinging crack rock, or you've got a wicked jump shot!". However you do it, you gotta make it up to the top, right nigga (oops! don't shoot!)

Peace out, world!

(CNN) -- South Dakota Gov. Mike Rounds signed a bill Monday that bans nearly all abortions in the state, legislation in direct conflict with the Supreme Court that legalized abortion in 1973.

"In the history of the world, the true test of a civilization is how well people treat the most vulnerable and most helpless in their society," said a statement.

I just don't get society. Really. The flip-flop nature of our judgements and the necessity for approval lead us to do some strange things. On one hand, you have people still trying to figure out whether fetuses are capable of classification as members of society - because one interpretation of the Bible defines social existence from the point of birth, and not conception. If not, then abortion would be as bad as tossing out a bad egg. As the superior race, we have no issues questioning the fact that live, grown animals are still being hunted for game, but make it a big deal discussing the doing-away-with of unborn human fetuses. Terrorism and related devastation leads you to believe that all that remains at the end - is faded memories. There is no concept of retributive justice. Waging a war on a nation does not avenge a massacre of innocents. And while society is all wrapped up in dealing with issues that puppetmasters cast before them like biased dice, the supremos themselves are busy in modifying the destiny of the world to their political convenience. What fate hath wrought?

And if Himesh Reshammiya wins one more award for Best Singer, I swear I will shoot a helpless fellow hunter!

"If the tragedy of one Heer could make you cry, what would have happened if you were alive in 1947 when a million Heers were raped in the same land"- Amrita Pritam on Warris Shah

We reside in an era where religion is masked as a motivation behind heinous acts of mass destruction, it becomes essential for us to redefine the word itself. Religion - Untitled in its purest form. By giving it a name, you are not enhancing it, or personifying it. You are only insulting its characteristic chastity. Demoralizing its identity. I call it 'a nameless tribute to our source of existence'. Because in its anonymity, lies its essence. If we are destined to learn of it in entirety, someday, we will....... Let fate be the page turner for the book of circumstance. She does it best. How do I know that fate is feminine, you ask? Because she takes hours (ages) to make herself look presentable, but only a second to change her mind (course)".

Peace out, world.

I was SPOT ON about the Best Actor, Best Actress and Best Director Award. But like most of the rest of the world - I crashed on Crash! Yes, it was rather unexpected. I loved the movie - but was it deserving of knocking over BM and Syriana (in that order - because I felt Syriana was the only movie truly deserving of upsetting BM)!

I really need to re-watch Crash now - because I never viewed it from an Oscar perspective. Was it better than Syriana? The films had a lot in common. While Crash reviewed immigrant experiences and their intrinsic discomfitures, Syriana was more petro-political but still had the same Soderbergh-style parallel yet interwoven plotlines, like Crash. But I felt Syriana had more of a pertinent and global message, and much more fiber vis-a-vis Crash - this is purely comparative because both films are phenomenal in their own respect. Syriana was more impactful, while Crash was more introspective.

But heck, to each his own. In between Jon Stewart's hilarious hosting histronics, Ang Lee on stage was saying "I have this to say to my wife..." and Didi completed his statement - "I'm gay, honey". That would make sense, wouldn't it? So if Ang Lee's gay - his wife is going to be quite AkeLee, no?

Peace Out, World!

Excuses: Mother is the necessity of their invention ;-) Sorry, mom. I just thought that it was the coolest word play i've heard in a while, at a party last night. Something I discovered about New York City apartments, today. The smaller they are, the more happening the parties. Friend of mine signed up a one-bedroom in Soho where she lives alone (read: yes, she's stinking rich), and threw the most ridiculous house-steaming party. Her priority in the hunt - location, location, location! Also, as part of my theory- New Yorkers get drunk far slower than New Jerseyites. You can also tell them apart really well, as part of my analysis. NJ-ites stare at the clock/watch more, drink faster, take longer to settle into a party, aren't as loud and overbearing, describe their location in Jersey in terms of distance from 'the city' and pack up sooner because they need to drive/commute home. Also, NJ-ites don't get much action. Because the pick-up line, "Your place or mine?" is usually followed by a trip to Penn Station or Port Authority, which is an immediate turn-off, and if you drive, chances are bright that the girl falls asleep in her drunken stupor before you hit the Turnpike.

Something about the NYC subway keeps you awake and seeking. Isn't it just the best? Especially on Saturday nights, you always the 'stink cabin' phenomenon - the inevitable cabin on the 1 or 9 where someone has thrown up because he/she mixed straight JDs with Apple Martinis. The inevitable Jesuit converter, usually Black and well dressed even at 4 AM, reading out passages from the Jehovah's Witness' Guide to Screwing With People's Minds. Notice that its only when you're drunk that you actually end up listening to these guys and saying stuff like "Right on!". Also, there's the inevitable wannabe musician selling CDs, the old-black-man a capella groups (some of whom are really good) and of course, those kids selling M&Ms for their so-called Basketball team, who shadily talk on Razrs and drive Miatas to "work" - woo hoo, talk about charity.

Ah but its New York. The New Yorker has a big red sign now, so you know big and bright where the shittiest rooms in the city are at. Gotta love the city that never sleeps. As Carrie says it best, "Despite the fact that there are over eight million people on the island of Manhattan, there are times you still feel shipwrecked and alone. Times even the most resourceful survivor would feel the need to put a message in a bottle, or on an answering machine".

why have kids ..... watch out world ... i am about to RANT!

we have kids ... we deal with their every concern ... clean their butts ... feed them ... soothe em .... teach em .... then they grow up .... meet friends .... friends are the cause that they are embarassed of us .... they get embarassed of who they are .... divorce their culture .... try to be white ... black ... hispanic. .... grow up confused .... hate us even more for putting them in that situation ... think we smell ... think we talk wierldy ... start cracking fob jokes at us ... and knock us in the Shady Pines Old People's Home one day leaving us thinking ... man, i cleaned his butt to see this day?

(spl. thanks to T for her inspiration)

Quoting an Associated Press article:

After the suicide bomb killed a US envoy in Pakistan, Bush, in neighboring India, quickly vowed to stick with his plan to fly to Pakistan's capital, Islamabad, on Friday."Terrorists and killers are not going to prevent me from going to Pakistan," Bush told reporters.

Right on, Dubya - but they sure as hell can prevent you from coming back!

Conversation overheard on NJ Transit bus, heading to Port Authority. While Bharadwaj dreams up his mutual fund dreams, he attempts getting away with this conversation with a co-passenger:

Co-passenger: To aap kaam kahaan karte hain? New York mein?

B'waj: Nahin, Manhattan mein

Co-passenger: Achcha! Mujhe to lagta tha ki aap New York mein kaam karte hain. Aap karte kya hain?

B'waj: Mera murgiyon ka mutual fund hai. Naam suna ho gaa. Henpecked Consulting. Yahaan nahin! Sab kuch bahaar jaata hai .. sab bahaar.

Co-passenger: Achcha? humaare ande ka business hai. Eggjackly Brothers. Actually, Henpecked Consulting? Naam kuch familiar sa hai. Pichle saal aapki murgiyon ne thode kam ande diye the ... kuch udhaar baaqi hai lagta hai.

B'waj (upset): Dekhoonga dekhoonga. Farm jaake accounts dekhoonga.



Song in background (SPB trying to sound Northy): "Do andewaale chale zindagi banaane, murgi sambhaalne aur omelet pakaane, OMELEEETTT PAKAANE "

Many have requested me to continue my series of AAA spoofs. I am alarmed that others share this ridiculous inanity with me - and how much time they have on their hands as well.

This time I've decided to add a smidgen of Gulzar's Angoor as well ... here goes... btw... my friend's name is Bharadwaj!

Start: B'waj's second interview at "Bahadur" Outsourcing (Deven Varma starting his own supari oursourcing firm, against Sanjeev Kumar's constant oppression)

Bahadur: Aao Bharadwaj aao. Bhaang piyoge?
B'waj: Kyun nahin? kyun nahin? ... KYA???
Bahadur: Kuch nahin. Tum IS AADMI ko jaante ho?
B'waj: uiii maaa, yeh to Thaakur hai.
Bahadur: Ramesh Sippy ke liye yeh Thaakur hoga ... lekin mere liye ... yeh mera jaani dushman hai ...

Bahadur: Inki khushi ki khaatir maine kya kya din dekhe. Prema ko Ekta Kapoor ke serials ka chakma deke, Ashok Babu ne use Bombay bhaga diya . Suna hai ke Zee TV ke kuch serials mein YUUN khadi dikhaai deti hai. Aur to aur - mera eklota grey kurta-white pajama ka set chori kar ke gayee. Ashok Babu jab jab khush hue hain ... main barbaad hua hoon ....
(B'waj offers tissue)
Bahadur: Lekin ab bahut ho gaya. Inki maut mein hi meri khushi hai!
B'waj: par ... par .. par .... main to Investment Banking karna chahta hoon ....
Bahadur: arrey investment banking jaaye bhaad mein. yeh supaari ka dhanda
hai, supaari ka!
B'Waj: Arrey? pehle bhaang. phir supaari? yeh consulting company hai, ke
paan ki dukaan?
Bahadur: KHAMOSH! pehle mere ek gambhir savaal ka javaab do...
B'waj: poochiye?
Bahadur: tumhaare resume par thook kyun hai?
B'waj: Oiii maa. Ek hi copy thi mere paas.

My Oscar Predictions

Philip Seymour Hoffman in Capote ... man, after he played the embarassing, forgotten child star who can't get rid of his star complex in Along Came Polly, I thought this guy was the bomb. But in Capote, from the little that I've seen, I really feel he deserves an Oscar.

Reese Witherspoon should pull off Best Actress (and I agree with Ebert that Dame Judi Dench shouldn't pull this one), and I will officially turn gay (finally!) .... if Brokeback wins Best Picture, after all the excessive lobbying, because if it doesn't, someone will be velly ang-lee.

Khayaal

Humaare khayaalon ke azaad parinde, jo aasmaano mein udte the,

Na jaane kaise, yeh duniya ke pinjron ko bardaash karne lage hain



Manzil ki khoj na karte the hum, bas udne ki thi ummeed,

Na jaane safar mein kab se, manzil ki talaash karne lage hain



Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, pyaar bhare woh pal,

Dhoondte the zindagi ki raahon par, guzre hue woh kal



Us safar ki tanhai mein, ek humsafar ki thi ummeed,

Na jaane kyun, us humsafar ki chaahat mein mitne lage hain



Ubhar aaye mere woh sapne, jo barson se dabaaye hue the,

Na jaane kyun, woh khayaal mere bhi paraaye lagne lage hain



Aur woh harjai, jo beechch raste mein, haath chod gaya tha

Na jaane kyun, hum usi humsafar ka saath chaahte hain

Zindagi bhar woh saath nibhaane ke khwaab kyun dekhte hain ?

Jab yeh zindagi humaari, khud hamaara saath nibhaa nahin sakti ...


aadaab arz hai .......
vishal