When I was a little boy (I’m not sure what age, maybe four, maybe eight) I used to tease my parents to take me to see the rain. “Paani ki baarish” I would call it, rain of water. But of course rain consists of water and the mere mention of rain implies water falling from the sky. But in my mind it had to be said, perhaps that connection between rain and water wasn’t clear, so it had to be said out loud. “Paani ki baarish”, this rain of water.
My insistence on seeing this rain of water put my parents in quite the situation. They could not produce rain regardless of what it was made of. So they took me to malls or places where there was a fountain. Sure it didn’t fall from the sky, and it wasn’t even rain, but it was water and apparently enough to fulfil my demands.
It’s from the phrase that I wrote “Paani ki Baarish” about a year ago, and I’ll reproduce it here:
-–
dor se jo dikti hai, woh choti si khwahish hai
mujh pe jo barasti hai, woh paani ki baarish hai
boondoon ke tapakne mei, yaadoon ka barasna hai
khoye hai khayaaloon mei, ab khudko sambhalna hai
intezaar mei baithain hai, kuch mushkil se guzarna hai
dum se khadum lete hai, apni manzil se milna hai
dheere se jo aati hai, woh choti si khwahish hai
chuke jo guzarjati hai, woh paani ki baarish hai
-–
The “holier than thou” posts are supposed to be my rants on marriage, and I will be continuing them soon. This post, however, is to address something I said in the earlier post. I made mention that I was “soon to be married”. That is no longer true, they (them who shall henceforth be referred to as ‘they’ and ‘them’) called off the wedding three days before it was supposed to happen. This doesn’t change my views on the process of marriage from my earlier post, in fact, it reinforces those views.
I think my collection of feelings can be best described as odd. Just odd. Odd. There’s a lot to say about my feelings, hah, but I won’t get into that here. And I feel sorry for everyone involved, everyone (even ‘them’). And Good Lord do my parents ever not deserve this.
The day I was supposed to be married I went down to meet Todd, a good friend. The weather was great, though a bit chilly, and we walked around Harbourfront talking about stuff and jazz. I think he summed it up best when he said, “Think about it this way, sure you didn’t get married today, but you had a shawarma”.
Yes Todd, that was a good shawarma.
A part of me wants to lash out and say bitter piercing words, but I won’t.
I’ll just reproduce something else I wrote a whiles back:
-–
maghrib mein ho gareeb, to mashriq mein kya ameer thay
gintee tumhe na wahaan aati thi, na yahaan aati hai
par sukoon ab na raha, raatein khojati hai
neend tumhe na wahaan aati thi, na yahaan aati hai
karti hai baatein tumhari, diloon ko sab ke tang
sharam tumhe na wahaan aati thi, na yahaan aati hai
thodh ke apna ghuroor, karlo khuda ko yaad kabhi
par duaaein tumhe na wahaan aati thi, na yahaan aati ha
-–
So stuff happens, some people get bit by bugs and some people get hit by trucks. I land somewhere in between and there were no trucks involved. Stuff happens and things move on.
Alhamdulilah. I’m going to go re-watch Firefly now.
chalo, maaf kiya
par ye aasuoon ka jawab kaun deyga?