Tag Archives: words

do Lavz….two words

I call myself Some…..a simple 4 letter word.

It means I am unspecified.
Although I do mean things,
they are just unspecified at the moment.

These undefined things made up of a few outlines,
include the undefined place I come from
or the undetermined place of my origin
or most importantly
the unknown places I want to be in.

Like most unspecified things,
I am wondering if I need distinct definitions for who I am.
Ask me now about them,
and I don’t know what those things are!
Until I met you.

I met you, the ‘one’
and together we became someone.
Nothing exemplary, just the two of us,
finding meaning in each other.

I ran into you, ‘where’,
we were known as ‘somewhere’.
And almost instantly, amidst getting to know each other,
we dreamed of all the places we wanted to go to.

I rather unexpectedly found you, ‘times’,
and we were happy sometimes.
For now we could make some exceptions and break the rules,
although not always, just sometimes.

I was surprised when I met you, ‘thing’,
and as a combination, as something.
We floated together,
feeling that we are meant to do at-least something.

I reached out to you, ‘body’,
and after we became somebody.
We could now introduce our self to others,
as unknowns who knew each other.

I was introduced to you, ‘place’,
and then as someplace,
we could talk about that secret place inside our heads,
that we both escape to when in a crowd.

I was delighted to meet you, ‘day’,
because as someday,
we had hope,
we could nurture dreams and make plans.

I met you,
the one who is known as ‘what’,
so that now we can be unabashed and undecided ,
and not take a stand, as we join together as somewhat.

I was happy that you came by,
you who is called ‘way’,
because then as someway,
we know there was no obstacle too hard or challenge too big.


This poem is inspired by Muamma(Riddle), a poem by Javed Akhtar, that is about 2 words or ‘harfs’ meeting, separating and trying to meet again.

Although, things, ways, places, times and the one, may eventually leave, a little bit, some of it will always remain that defines us.

By Javed Akhtar

hum dono jo harf hain
hum ek roz mile
ek lafz bana
aur humne ek maani paaye
phir jaane kya hum per guzri aur
ab yun hai
tum ek harf ho ek khaane mein
main ek harf hoon ek khaane mein
beech mein kitne lamhoN ke khaane khaali hain
phir se koi lafz bane
aur hum dono ek maane paayeiN
aesa, ho sakta hai
lekin sochnaa hogaa
in khaali khaanoN Mein humeiN bharnaa kya hai…

by David Matthews

The two of us were once just letters
We met one day
And a word was formed
We found a meaning,
Then something happened
And now
You are a letter
In one square;
I am a letter
In another square
In between
How many squares of moments lie empty!
Another word can be formed
And we can find a meaning
It can be so
We have to think
How to fill those empty squares




estranged…..I wasn’t aware there was a word to capture the emotion.

At first I shied away from using it, hiding it like a bad scar underneath layers of fabric.Maybe it was the eyes that gave it away, or that forced smile. May be it was that I held my head too high, or didn’t have anyone calling me to find out what time I will be home.


estranged….I started getting comfortable with it.

No longer a scar, it was a shield now. I used it to protect, conserve, and deflect. An exercise in self preservation. Yielded every time my conviction or perseverance was challenged. Too young they said.

estranged…it then became a badge.

I grew comfortable with it. It slipped out with ease and let them know I was at peace with it. The effortlessness of using the word made some cringe, left others shocked at how normal it was for me to use it.

estranged….it became redundant.

I didn’t need to use the word no more. I had allowed the scar to be part of the past. As I let myself be at peace with it, the confused looks disappeared, the quizzical open ended questions stopped and it just became another word.

This weeks Urdu Shayari is called The ‘Use By Date’ By Gulzar that appears in his book Neglected Poems. He mentions how medicines putrefy after their use by date, just like words I would say.

Woh jo ek miyaad thi na -By Gulzar


Woh jo ek miyaad thi na
Istamaal ki-
Woh guzar chuki!!
Dava ki shishiyon par likhi jaati hai is liye
Miyaad baad istamaal karne se
Davayiyan bhi baasi hone lagti hai
Phir koyi ilaaj kar nahin paati
Phir bhi tark na huyi toh zeher banne lagti hai.

Baasi ho chuke mazhabon kai aitakaad sab
woh jo ek miyaad thi na, istamaal ki
Woh guzar chuki.

Translation By Pavan Varma

You Know,
That ‘use by’ date….
That date has expired
It is written on medicine bottles only because
Once that date is over,
Even the medicines putrefy.
Then they cannot cure
And if still not abandoned
They become poison.

All the values that animated religions
Have putrefied
That ‘use by’ date that we spoke of
That date has expired!!

Here is the link to watch this poem being recited : VIDEO LINK.