Dil Akhir tu kyon rota hai?

जब जब दर्द का बादल छाया

जब गम का साया लहराया

जब आँसू पलकों तक आया

जब ये तनहा दिल घबराया

हम ने दिल को ये समझाया

दिल आखिर तू क्यों रोता है?

दुनिया में यूहीं होता है

ये जो गहरे सन्नाटे हैं

वक्त ने सबको ही बांटे हैं

थोड़ा गम है सबका किस्सा

थोड़ी धूप है सबका हिस्सा 

आँख तेरी बेकार ही नम है

हर पल एक नया मौसम है

क्यों तू ऐसे पल खोता है?

दिल आखिर तू क्यों रोता है?

American History X

So I guess this is where I tell you what I learned - my conclusion, right? Well, my conclusion is: Hate is baggage. Life's too short to be pissed off all the time. It's just not worth it. Derek says it's always good to end a paper with a quote. He says someone else has already said it best. So if you can't top it, steal from them and go out strong. So I picked a guy I thought you'd like. 'We are not enemies, but friends. We must not be enemies. Though passion may have strained, it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory will swell when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature.'


Just got done watching American History X.. Edward Norton's quickly becoming one of my favorite actors.

Moon river and me..

Watched Breakfast at Tiffany's for about the millionth time today.. Its still brilliant.. and the following still remains my favorite bit.. and for any unfortunate slobs who haven't seen the movie, you're really missing something.. Audrey Hepburn is nothing short of a vision.. 

Holly, I'm in love with you.

So what?

So what? So plenty! I love you. You belong to me.

No. People don’t belong to people.

Of course they do.

I'll never let anyone put me in a cage!

I don't want to put you in a cage, I wanna love you.

Same thing!

No it's not, Holly--

I'm not Holly! I'm not Lulu Mae either. I don't know who I am. I'm like Cat here. We're a couple of no-name slobs. We belong to nobody, and nobody belongs to us. We don't even belong to each other.

You know what's wrong with you, Miss Whoever-you-are? You're chicken, you've got no guts. You're afraid to stick out your chin and say, "Okay, life's a fact, people do fall in love, people do belong to each other, because that's the only chance anybody's got for real happiness." You call yourself a free spirit, a "wild thing," and you're terrified somebody's gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you're already in that cage. You built it yourself. And it's not bounded in the west by Tulip, Texas, or in the east by Somali-land. It's wherever you go. Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.

O Happy Dagger..

Two very diverse and frankly conflicting influences led to his particular train of though.. which led to this post.. Its also led me to seriously question something i very firmly believe in.. the concept of a "Happily ever after"..
The first is an observation that I made during a conversation about the afore mentioned concept with a certain fellow victim of the down-on-your-luck-in-love syndrome.. every single story of great love from literature that i've ever enjoyed, never runs its course.. its always a wild and passionate love that survives despite the lovers not ending up together for one reason or another.. one of the following always happens..

- One of them is killed by an accident/terminal illness, while the other holds their hand in the final moment in the hospital.

- They realise that they cannot be together in life so kill themselves so they can be together in death.

- Or (and this one's my favorite) the great sacrifice.. when one of them pushes the other out of the way of a stray bullet/speeding automobile, and dies in the other's arms with a final "I love you".

The other point, ruminating on the first one while we discuss this ofcourse, comes from a certain high-grossing-giant-special-effects-hollywood-extravaganza kinda film that i rather enjoyed. The hero.. no villain.. no hero.. well its unclear what he really is, makes a statement towards the end of the movie.. "You either die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain"..

while this is not a direct reference to the theme brought up by Point One, one can draw a parallel.. which brings me to the conclusion that planted the seed of doubt in my firm fairytale fancies.. What if all great love is doomed to an extremely short shelf life? What if the only kind of love that really survives in the long run is the average, mediocre kind? but most importantly.. what do you do when the great, all consuming love just doesn't seem enough?

O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick.
Thus with a kiss I die.

Romeo had it easy..