Nazm: Haadsa-e-Mulaaqaat

हादसा-ए-मुलाक़ात

उससे जिस दिन भी मिलेंगे उसे ये कह देंगे ...

के तेरे बाद इन नज़रो में रौशनी कम थी
के तेरे बाद हर खुशी में कुछ खुशी कम थी
के तेरे बाद भी हम साँस तो लिए लेकिन
के तेरे बाद ज़िन्दगी ये ज़िन्दगी कम थी

तुझसे कह देंगे के भूले नहीं हैं कुछ बातें
वही बातें जो बे-ख़याली में कहे थे तुम
तुझसे कह देंगे के याद आये हैं वो सब रातें
वही रातें जो मेरी बाहों में रहे थे तुम

हम ना सोचेंगे किसके पास में खड़े हो तुम
हम ना सोचेंगे किसके साथ, किसके हो अब तुम
हम ना सोचेंगे क्या रुसवाई होगी फिर अपनी
हम ना सोचेंगे पशेमा क्यूँ हो रहे हो तुम

हम एक उम्र रुकेंगे तुम्हारे चेहरे पर
इक ज़रा सी झलक उदासी देखने के लिए
अश्क़ कुर्बान सारे रात के अँधेरे पर
तेरे माथे पे इक शिकन को देखने के लिए

उससे जिस दिन भी मिलेंगे उसे ये कह देंगे ...

चलो वापस उसी लम्हे पे जहा पर तुमने
अपने हिस्से का ग़म जोड़ा था मेरे हिस्से में
जाओ वापस उसी महफ़िल में और ये कह दो
के मेरा नाम तुम मिटाए अपने किस्से में

उससे जिस दिन भी मिलेंगे उसे ये कह देंगे,
के जिसको चाहा था हीरे-सा वो पत्थर निकला।




Haadsa-e-Mulaaqaat

Usse jis din bhi milenge use ye keh denge...

Ke tere baad in nazaro mein raushni kam thi
Ke tere baad har khushi mein kuch khushi kam thi
Ke tere baad bhi hum saans to liye lekin
Ke tere baad zindagi ye zindagi kam thi

Tujhse keh denge ke bhoole nahi hain kuch baatein
Wahi baatein jo be-khayaali mein kahe the tum
Tujhse keh denge ke yaad aaye hain wo sab raatein
Wahi raatein jo meri baahon mein rahe the tum

Hum na sochenge kiske paas mein khade ho tum
Hum na sochenge kiske saath, kiske ho ab tum
Hum na sochenge kya ruswaai hogi phir apni
Hum na sochenge pashemaa kyun ho rahe ho tum

Hum ek umra rukenge tumhare chehre par
Ik zara si jhalak udaasi dekhne ke liye
Ashq kurbaan saare raat ke andhere par
Tere maathe pe ik shikan ko dekhne ke liye

Usse jis din bhi milenge use ye keh denge...

Chalo vaapas usi lamhe pe jaha par tumne
Apne hisse ka ghma joda tha mere hisse mein
Jaao vaapas usi mehfil mein aur ye keh do
Ke mera naam tum mitaaye apne kisse mein

Usse jis din bhi milenge use ye keh denge,
Ke jisko chaaha tha heere-sa wo patthar nikla.

After the Live-in Gets Over

For A.


I do not care to know why you’re really doing it:
because you know you’d never get to do this
with anyone else ever again;
or because you’d be a writer and a poet someday,
and it’s all wonderful raw material;
or because you truly love her.

All I know is this:
The two of you smell of the same soap
when you leave for work in the morning.

Wait for the day you decide to separate:
you’d start seeing her everywhere:
Lying on your bed, cooking in your kitchen,
Sitting on the sofa, watching television,
You’d hate to turn the lock and you’d want to ring the bell,
You’d want her to open the door and hug you with her smell,
You’d see her in the mirror, you’d see her in the bath,
You’d see her every corner, whatever be your path,
You’d ride your bike aloof, the backseat would not shift,
You’d see all signs and hoardings in the Bengali script,
You’d talk to nobody and drink at nights alone,
You’d hang up all her calls or cry over the phone,
You’d wonder what she’s doing when you’re thinking of her,
You’d think she was your mistake and you were her blunder,
You’d throw her perfume bottles, and throw her greeting cards,
But trust me this’d happen: your heart would break in shards.

And then, you’d, as they all say, ‘let it pass’
because you have no idea that time would only
wound you further.

In the moments and days and weeks and months and years that’d go by,
(which would be excruciatingly slow, trust me)
you’d forget what her shampoo was,
but remember the smell of her hair;
You’d forget the size and colours and patterns of her bras,
but remember how beautiful she looked dressing up
one piece of cloth a time;
You’d delete all digital photos and burn the paper ones,
but you’d see her there, right there, staring back at you
when you look into the mirror in the morning;
You’d forget all curves of her body, all softnesses of her flesh,
but remember her sleeping face when you woke up first on the bed.

Oh you have no idea
that flashbacks are crafty only
in screenwriting
and cruel in
Reality;
that it’d only take a moment to go
all the way
Back.

Back to the Past which would claw
with its bloodthirsty nails into your Present
and make your Future bleed.

And of course, every time you’d wipe your body after a bath,
you’d remember
that the two of you smell of different soaps these days.