I m so small to say this,
I m amateur.
but i miss a lot in my life.
In this life lived so little.
I miss the times i played with my brother,
i miss the times i fought with the colony kids,
i miss the times when i was hiding in that old jeep,
and the times when papa got that ice cream brick,
i miss watching cartoons,
and laugh on little things,
i miss my brother,
and i miss the ace and the kings.
I miss the times of recess,
when we played chain and rode on seasaw,
i miss that G.K. book,
and spects of Mrs mathur,
i miss my school, i miss my home,
i miss my friends,
i miss my mom,
i miss my dad,
i miss everyone,
why m i so sad.
I wish i could be a kid again.,
innocent,
tensionFree,
like a bird.
I miss the times when i thought that superman is real,
i miss those moments,
i fought with the wall,
like a ninja turtle.
i miss raising my fist,
high in the air,
and expecting to fly,
i miss the times,
when i cried.
I miss those days,
when i was nine.
I miss the world.
in little fist of mine.
I miss mickey, i miss minnie,
i miss alladin, abu and jinni.
I miss my tricycle,
i miss my waterbottle,
Its not so far,
i m still a kid,
I cant live those moments again,
coz i wont just fit.
Innocence gone,
took smile with it.
I wish for a childhood express,
with a lifetime ticket.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
She..
Tha wo khwab ya thi haqueekat,
Ye batana kuch mumkin nhi lagta.
Burke k peeche chupi,
Un do kanji aankho k nazrane se,
Na jane ye dil kyo nhi hat ta..
Harj to hame b tha
Harj to unhe b tha,
Wo kuch keh nhi sakte the,
Hum kuch kar nhi sakte the.
Sirf unhe hi nahi,
Harj to un aankho ko b tha,
Ki chamakta hua sa ek chand ,
Gulab si mehki bandisho me tha.
Ek bar ki bat h,
Roshan si kuch rat thi,
ek jheel jhilmila rahi thi.
Aun un aankho ka noor,
Us jheel ki si tasweer bana rahi thi.
Burke k jharokhe se,
Uski aanko se meri aankhe jo mili,
Sharma gae ham,
Sharma gai wo,
Aur hontho pe uske, aisa aga mujhe,
Jaise koi hasi khili.
Chand b kuch kam roshan tha us rat,
Uska chehra jo burke ki aad me chupa tha.
Kehte h wo,
Chand roshan h sooraj ki roshni se,
Kehta hu main,
Uske chehre k tilism se,
Das chand bhi roshan ho jate.
Pata to nhi h mujhe,
Par khoobsoorat rahi hogi wo,
Us burke k peeche,
Par kya karu dosto,
Daba hu m bhi,
Duniya ki bandisho ke neeche.
Dukh to use b tha,
Dukh to mujhe b tha,
Kaid thi wo,
Aur dard mujhe b tha.
Ye batana kuch mumkin nhi lagta.
Burke k peeche chupi,
Un do kanji aankho k nazrane se,
Na jane ye dil kyo nhi hat ta..
Harj to hame b tha
Harj to unhe b tha,
Wo kuch keh nhi sakte the,
Hum kuch kar nhi sakte the.
Sirf unhe hi nahi,
Harj to un aankho ko b tha,
Ki chamakta hua sa ek chand ,
Gulab si mehki bandisho me tha.
Ek bar ki bat h,
Roshan si kuch rat thi,
ek jheel jhilmila rahi thi.
Aun un aankho ka noor,
Us jheel ki si tasweer bana rahi thi.
Burke k jharokhe se,
Uski aanko se meri aankhe jo mili,
Sharma gae ham,
Sharma gai wo,
Aur hontho pe uske, aisa aga mujhe,
Jaise koi hasi khili.
Chand b kuch kam roshan tha us rat,
Uska chehra jo burke ki aad me chupa tha.
Kehte h wo,
Chand roshan h sooraj ki roshni se,
Kehta hu main,
Uske chehre k tilism se,
Das chand bhi roshan ho jate.
Pata to nhi h mujhe,
Par khoobsoorat rahi hogi wo,
Us burke k peeche,
Par kya karu dosto,
Daba hu m bhi,
Duniya ki bandisho ke neeche.
Dukh to use b tha,
Dukh to mujhe b tha,
Kaid thi wo,
Aur dard mujhe b tha.
Prostitution is Better-A reply
first of all, i do agree with one commonn point (which even i thought of) that the girls are forced up in this bussiness. as bond suggested the figures 90% girls. well, to this point i thoroughly agree and this infact is an unputdownable fact, but let me make up the story of hema a litttle.
Hema, she is a prostitute, who was working in the red light areas of bombay lately, a client ended her career, bt how did it started? Since i am making up this story, lets all assume that she was forced in this flesh business, but there are a few ways to be forced. Kidnapped and forced or forced because of poverty. may be she was kidnapped and then put into this business or her parents sold her because of poverty( this happens in Orrisa Bihar and Up and CG during famine and because of poverty) or she found her dreams of living a nice and posh liffe, just like they use to show in TV, by poverty. well the latter is a modest way of saying that she was forced, and ya she was forced.
now lets make the equations a bit more complex( not more complex than JEE prep or epsilon delta method). if she was kidnapped, she might had been kidnapped from a decent family, or from some village of orisa and from a poor family. if the former case has happened, then the police has some pressure, and they usually end up finding the girl at some place. and even if the girl is forced then that counts near about 10% of that 90% mentioned.
lets just keep this discussion in the back of the mind, and talk some facts. lately i was reading an article by Mr. Harsh Mandar, he wrote a sad story about the death of a girl in orisa, he was acquainted with. her father was a peasant in the village, one day some due to some disease( dn remember what) her mother was hospitalised. due to greedy doctors and their demands of bribery her father lost all their saved money. he then borrowed some money from a relative, and buyed seeds to do farming, but that year famine hit the state, and he was debt ridden. they dint had enough food to eat. one fist full of rice was enough for the family of five, that too thrice in a week.
one day that relative turns up, and made a deal. he will raise up his daughter, and in return all the debt will be cleared. her parents thought that their girl will die in this poverty along with them, so to save her, they sold her. this case went to police and press, and the father was put in jail along with that relative. The girl was "RESCUED". in hearing, her father and mother kept on saying (they had lost their other children)" AAP LOG KYO NHI SAMAJH RAHE HO, HUM USE PYAR KARTE THE< NAHI CHATE THE K WO MAR JAE, ISLIE HAMNE AISA KIA" but no one listened from the same "POOR" perspective he was talking about. he was bailed, again it cost money and they came at worse situation than they were before. The girl died a few weeks later, but no press personnel came to check that what was the reason.
The sole point of mentioning this incident, Most of the POOR girls, are forced either by their family or SOCIETY to do this. No one wants to be a prostitute, but in some way, prostitution is better than dying of poverty, dying of malnutrition. prostitutes, strippers, bar dancers, they earn money in big cities and live an honored life in their respective hometowns. When money comes, respect comes along, and no one asks where did it came, only rumor talks, nothing much; But this all is far below a good life.
I am not saying that if we are legalizing it that means we will open some frankfinn institute, that will train prostitutes, not air hostesses; i m not saying that our mothers, and sisters will then pick up this option as a career. I am just saying that it is to help those who are suffering because they thought that prostitution is a better business than poverty.
They already are in hell, prostitution will help them coming out. It will not happen all of a sudden, it might take a decade, or a generation, but it surey will open some doors instead of closing them.
Legalizing it will meann that prostitutes will have some social status, self respect. they will be able to walk with us, not like they have to hide all the time. Their children will be treated with all due respect. There will be complications, same complications that the Black people faced in USA to prove their existence, or even worse, but it will contribute towards their good future. I m intentionally using the word Good instead of Bright here, coz it will take time.
Now it will help them too who are literally forced. What happened cant be undone, but if the process of legalization starts, if society give them equal rights, then those who dont want to continue it can come out. At least they will have some way out. They wont fear that the society will not accept them. It will be better if a prostitute comes out of this pit, than dying (suicide or slow death). When a girl is forced, I am sure, she is not aware what can be done, she is under tight security of pimps, but later she can always come out, no one in the "CIVILIZED"(what we think of us) society will say that she is "CHARACTERLESS"(like we all are very good fellas, look in your own soul).
This might be a vice, but only if drinking and smoking is a vice, which dont seem to be. We in India, are drinking too regularly (both rich and poor), and one day we will end up like germans!!
A wound will never heal if its left open for houseflies, water dust. prevention is done. and if someone is curing something, then he automatically takes prevention, but only prevention might not heal the wound.
Hema, she is a prostitute, who was working in the red light areas of bombay lately, a client ended her career, bt how did it started? Since i am making up this story, lets all assume that she was forced in this flesh business, but there are a few ways to be forced. Kidnapped and forced or forced because of poverty. may be she was kidnapped and then put into this business or her parents sold her because of poverty( this happens in Orrisa Bihar and Up and CG during famine and because of poverty) or she found her dreams of living a nice and posh liffe, just like they use to show in TV, by poverty. well the latter is a modest way of saying that she was forced, and ya she was forced.
now lets make the equations a bit more complex( not more complex than JEE prep or epsilon delta method). if she was kidnapped, she might had been kidnapped from a decent family, or from some village of orisa and from a poor family. if the former case has happened, then the police has some pressure, and they usually end up finding the girl at some place. and even if the girl is forced then that counts near about 10% of that 90% mentioned.
lets just keep this discussion in the back of the mind, and talk some facts. lately i was reading an article by Mr. Harsh Mandar, he wrote a sad story about the death of a girl in orisa, he was acquainted with. her father was a peasant in the village, one day some due to some disease( dn remember what) her mother was hospitalised. due to greedy doctors and their demands of bribery her father lost all their saved money. he then borrowed some money from a relative, and buyed seeds to do farming, but that year famine hit the state, and he was debt ridden. they dint had enough food to eat. one fist full of rice was enough for the family of five, that too thrice in a week.
one day that relative turns up, and made a deal. he will raise up his daughter, and in return all the debt will be cleared. her parents thought that their girl will die in this poverty along with them, so to save her, they sold her. this case went to police and press, and the father was put in jail along with that relative. The girl was "RESCUED". in hearing, her father and mother kept on saying (they had lost their other children)" AAP LOG KYO NHI SAMAJH RAHE HO, HUM USE PYAR KARTE THE< NAHI CHATE THE K WO MAR JAE, ISLIE HAMNE AISA KIA" but no one listened from the same "POOR" perspective he was talking about. he was bailed, again it cost money and they came at worse situation than they were before. The girl died a few weeks later, but no press personnel came to check that what was the reason.
The sole point of mentioning this incident, Most of the POOR girls, are forced either by their family or SOCIETY to do this. No one wants to be a prostitute, but in some way, prostitution is better than dying of poverty, dying of malnutrition. prostitutes, strippers, bar dancers, they earn money in big cities and live an honored life in their respective hometowns. When money comes, respect comes along, and no one asks where did it came, only rumor talks, nothing much; But this all is far below a good life.
I am not saying that if we are legalizing it that means we will open some frankfinn institute, that will train prostitutes, not air hostesses; i m not saying that our mothers, and sisters will then pick up this option as a career. I am just saying that it is to help those who are suffering because they thought that prostitution is a better business than poverty.
They already are in hell, prostitution will help them coming out. It will not happen all of a sudden, it might take a decade, or a generation, but it surey will open some doors instead of closing them.
Legalizing it will meann that prostitutes will have some social status, self respect. they will be able to walk with us, not like they have to hide all the time. Their children will be treated with all due respect. There will be complications, same complications that the Black people faced in USA to prove their existence, or even worse, but it will contribute towards their good future. I m intentionally using the word Good instead of Bright here, coz it will take time.
Now it will help them too who are literally forced. What happened cant be undone, but if the process of legalization starts, if society give them equal rights, then those who dont want to continue it can come out. At least they will have some way out. They wont fear that the society will not accept them. It will be better if a prostitute comes out of this pit, than dying (suicide or slow death). When a girl is forced, I am sure, she is not aware what can be done, she is under tight security of pimps, but later she can always come out, no one in the "CIVILIZED"(what we think of us) society will say that she is "CHARACTERLESS"(like we all are very good fellas, look in your own soul).
This might be a vice, but only if drinking and smoking is a vice, which dont seem to be. We in India, are drinking too regularly (both rich and poor), and one day we will end up like germans!!
A wound will never heal if its left open for houseflies, water dust. prevention is done. and if someone is curing something, then he automatically takes prevention, but only prevention might not heal the wound.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Prostitution is better!!
Sex, it is the biggest taboo in the society. You can talk to your parents on any issue, but you might feel shy while talking on this issue. It’s something which should remain hidden, which should not be talked, which should not even be raised in the discussions. Those who talk about it are maniacs, they are not social animals, but animals, they are of the stature of those who rob, those who are not healthy elements of the society, those who are criminals, those who rape. But did anybody think that why people rape? First I should make this fact very clear that I am here neither supporting rapists nor saying that those who rape are good fellows to this society, also I am strictly not talking about the child molesters, because this is a crime whose noun is greater than murder. Molesting a child means killing humanity, and then raping it. Kids are the most beautiful and innocent species on this planet. They are never ugly, they are cute, and their voice is the voice of God Himself, and their molesters don’t deserve to be even talked about.
Resuming, one big question which no one asks, why people rape. Our sisters, friends, mothers, wives or any other relative feel insecure to go out alone. Why is it? If it was always like this, then why is it not changed? If we try to give a look around us, i feel that prostitution is one of those ways which can help this country. I mean, it’s one better way to stop women harassment, child molestation, and other evil practices. I am also not saying that we should associate to prostitutes, but it seems to be one way when we don’t have anything to lose. Many European nations have this prostitution business legalized, and surprisingly the rate of such crimes is far more lower than our country.
Please allow me to tell a small story.
Kallu returns to his small one room hut, every night, broken by the weight of hammer he strikes to break stones at the quarry, he is smoking since the age of 12 and drinking since 13, he is 33 years old now, has 4 children, married twice, his first wife died during giving birth to his third child, and the second wife will be dead in some time due to poverty. His father use to work at the same quarry, when one day he died out of excessive drinking problems, and then he was forced to work to bought up his poor family. He is working there for about two decades now. In the beginning, when his shoulders and back pained, one fellow suggested him to drink. He found so much pleasure in it, all the pain was relieves at once, every tension was gone, he was feeling like a free flag again. He then got used to this so much, that now, if he don’t drinks, he feels pain all over his body. He has one elder daughter, three sons, one 10 years and one 6 years old. One kid from second wife is a toddler. Every night he comes home, he is drunk, all tired, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he is feeling this terrible time coming. His kids come to him asking for money, but the money is gone, all in drinking. Toddler making noises, wife abusing kids asking for food. What else she could do, there is no god damn food, she already has so much tensions. Kallus whole life rewinds, he saw this before, with his father, with himself. He is so disturbed, by the pain, by the noises, by the constant abusing of his wife, he is tensed, because he is left with no money, because he is not satisfied with his life. He thought of making love with his wife, which will be like a force from one side and like a unwilling agreement from other side, but this will bring more kids, more problems, more tension, already a girl is getting young, basti boys have started following her, he is bounded. He see that all the problems are coming after him, and will leave him after his death. He tries to run, but they are everywhere, he get up on bed, beat his children, beat his wife. This happens every day. One day he kills all, and suicides.
This is one story, you may feel that that was more because of poverty than the feeling of having sex, but how about this?
Ravi is an assistant engineer in a private firm, earns good, enough to live happily. He is married for five years and has three kids. His salary is increasing day by day, he is doing fine, but he beats his wife, harasses her. May be, he is not satisfied. Or maybe he share same fear for the future like kallu.
The fact is that married men are not mentally satisfied from their wives, and some little tensions can lead to miserable results.
Coming back to the rapes and molestations, most of the guys involved are unemployed, young, unmarried, and misguided, having a thirst from the within, and when in a desert, one would do anything to quench his thirst.
Once I attended this show, where one president of a Hindu party was addressing people on the issue of Valentine Day. I remember these words of him “ In western countries, woman is a thing of use, a thing of exploitation, a thing to enjoy and forget, while in India, we consider woman ad our sister, our mother, we worship women” The same Mr. President was grilled for 15 days in a rape case, this may, after about a year and half and he got easy bail because of his politics connections. I don’t think I need to say any further.
Let’s consider that Mr. P was drunk and he did all this out of innocence, and that what he said at that show was correct, then also, what justice are we doing to women? We are worse than animals.
Enough talk on the side of common man, let me tell u this story about a prostitute hema, I saw her on a news channel. Her clients often beat her, she termed this as “OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD”. One day one client broke her arm and stabbed her in between her legs because he was not satisfied. She went to police, but police let her down because Mr. Ambedkar did not thought that one day this condition will come, and according to police, she was doing illegal job.
Now, compiling all this, what do we learned. Hema was also a woman, she was harassed, she could have been killed though this incident ended her career, but she was harassed too, like millions of other women, some prostitutes, some housewives, some daughters, some mothers. It’s all happening already, and it’s not gonna stop, so if we have nothing to lose, why not legalize the prostitution. It will help prostitutes too; it will help millions of women. If there are some laws, on which some old chaps are running this country, add one more. What’s wrong?? It’s not gonna affect anything, this are worse than worst, AIDS,HIV are already in this country, this will bring awareness among people, to use proper protection. Government can spend millions to bring “SEX EDUCATION” in text books, but that’s not gonna help those who are illiterate, because they are the one needing some serious education.
Resuming, one big question which no one asks, why people rape. Our sisters, friends, mothers, wives or any other relative feel insecure to go out alone. Why is it? If it was always like this, then why is it not changed? If we try to give a look around us, i feel that prostitution is one of those ways which can help this country. I mean, it’s one better way to stop women harassment, child molestation, and other evil practices. I am also not saying that we should associate to prostitutes, but it seems to be one way when we don’t have anything to lose. Many European nations have this prostitution business legalized, and surprisingly the rate of such crimes is far more lower than our country.
Please allow me to tell a small story.
Kallu returns to his small one room hut, every night, broken by the weight of hammer he strikes to break stones at the quarry, he is smoking since the age of 12 and drinking since 13, he is 33 years old now, has 4 children, married twice, his first wife died during giving birth to his third child, and the second wife will be dead in some time due to poverty. His father use to work at the same quarry, when one day he died out of excessive drinking problems, and then he was forced to work to bought up his poor family. He is working there for about two decades now. In the beginning, when his shoulders and back pained, one fellow suggested him to drink. He found so much pleasure in it, all the pain was relieves at once, every tension was gone, he was feeling like a free flag again. He then got used to this so much, that now, if he don’t drinks, he feels pain all over his body. He has one elder daughter, three sons, one 10 years and one 6 years old. One kid from second wife is a toddler. Every night he comes home, he is drunk, all tired, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he is feeling this terrible time coming. His kids come to him asking for money, but the money is gone, all in drinking. Toddler making noises, wife abusing kids asking for food. What else she could do, there is no god damn food, she already has so much tensions. Kallus whole life rewinds, he saw this before, with his father, with himself. He is so disturbed, by the pain, by the noises, by the constant abusing of his wife, he is tensed, because he is left with no money, because he is not satisfied with his life. He thought of making love with his wife, which will be like a force from one side and like a unwilling agreement from other side, but this will bring more kids, more problems, more tension, already a girl is getting young, basti boys have started following her, he is bounded. He see that all the problems are coming after him, and will leave him after his death. He tries to run, but they are everywhere, he get up on bed, beat his children, beat his wife. This happens every day. One day he kills all, and suicides.
This is one story, you may feel that that was more because of poverty than the feeling of having sex, but how about this?
Ravi is an assistant engineer in a private firm, earns good, enough to live happily. He is married for five years and has three kids. His salary is increasing day by day, he is doing fine, but he beats his wife, harasses her. May be, he is not satisfied. Or maybe he share same fear for the future like kallu.
The fact is that married men are not mentally satisfied from their wives, and some little tensions can lead to miserable results.
Coming back to the rapes and molestations, most of the guys involved are unemployed, young, unmarried, and misguided, having a thirst from the within, and when in a desert, one would do anything to quench his thirst.
Once I attended this show, where one president of a Hindu party was addressing people on the issue of Valentine Day. I remember these words of him “ In western countries, woman is a thing of use, a thing of exploitation, a thing to enjoy and forget, while in India, we consider woman ad our sister, our mother, we worship women” The same Mr. President was grilled for 15 days in a rape case, this may, after about a year and half and he got easy bail because of his politics connections. I don’t think I need to say any further.
Let’s consider that Mr. P was drunk and he did all this out of innocence, and that what he said at that show was correct, then also, what justice are we doing to women? We are worse than animals.
Enough talk on the side of common man, let me tell u this story about a prostitute hema, I saw her on a news channel. Her clients often beat her, she termed this as “OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD”. One day one client broke her arm and stabbed her in between her legs because he was not satisfied. She went to police, but police let her down because Mr. Ambedkar did not thought that one day this condition will come, and according to police, she was doing illegal job.
Now, compiling all this, what do we learned. Hema was also a woman, she was harassed, she could have been killed though this incident ended her career, but she was harassed too, like millions of other women, some prostitutes, some housewives, some daughters, some mothers. It’s all happening already, and it’s not gonna stop, so if we have nothing to lose, why not legalize the prostitution. It will help prostitutes too; it will help millions of women. If there are some laws, on which some old chaps are running this country, add one more. What’s wrong?? It’s not gonna affect anything, this are worse than worst, AIDS,HIV are already in this country, this will bring awareness among people, to use proper protection. Government can spend millions to bring “SEX EDUCATION” in text books, but that’s not gonna help those who are illiterate, because they are the one needing some serious education.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
i was still alive 4
My thoughts were interrupted when a group of young people came asking my name to the neighbors. My uncle stood up and went to them, they told they were my friends from IIT. More friends came, seniors came, some teachers came, everyone came, I don’t know who told everyone, but must be my friends only. Some joined others and shed some tears, some sobbed, some remained silent, some looked very impatient and frustrated, may be by the will of God or may be for me or possibly because of the faint atmosphere. I saw all of them, sad and silent, and remembered all those moments when they were equally blissful, equally joyful, and equally happy. I remembered how we use to fight over small things, how we contend for same toy, how we use to race with our small small bicycles, how we shared lunch together, how we played in the recess, how we sat on same bench, our first birthday party, or how we went on a school trip and enjoyed there, I remembered their joyful faces when I was selected, and their smiles when I slipped on banana, I saw my friends and seniors and their face reminded me of the joy when we two were ragged together by them, I remembered everything about how we enjoyed all these moments.
I saw some relatives were making a bed for me, the same type which is used in the funerals to carry the dead. They were doing it traditionally, binding bamboo together and laying some hay straw on it and the several other things to provide the corpse with leisure. After a few minutes it was ready, and my body was lying on it. My father, grandfather uncle and cousins gave their shoulders to lift me up. Ladies in the house tried to stop them by grabbing my legs and some ladies came from backside tried to stop those ladies, and my body was going. I saw my mother stretching her hands towards my body and I was going out of her reach. As I went far her tears turned turbulent, her voice became louder and her crying increased. I could so nothing to help her, except for watching her. I gave a look at those three elder people who were assisting my brother, those fellows were surely shared same hard luck, they must had never thought of this, I mean who thinks that he will carry his son’s dead body, or who wants to, bout its just another trick of nature, may be to fulfill the wrongs that you have done or just to enjoy.
As I saw my body going I felt that all those portraits of a good life, better future, a big business, a big car, marrying her, living in a big house everything shattered, every thing was washed away, everything was going with my body, and I could do nothing. I remembered how I “invested” time for my better future which never exists and which will never exist now. I felt bad that I chose a different way, way to work, way on which I didn’t enjoyed the present but kept on thinking about future, way on which only my dreams were walking with me and since they were slow, I thought I m fast. I made no mistake in weaving dreams, I made mistake in making them true. Now at this point of time, I learned a few more good things, which I would follow in my next life( I am dreaming again, cant stop myself) that dreams do need a lot of effort to be converted into a real big thing , but not on the cost of life and definitely not on the cost of hurting anyone, be it friends, family, love anyone, and not on the cost of joy and pleasure that u can get with your loved ones, your friend, your family when u are with them. And what more I get to know was that this was a trick which was like a hidden file in nature, and this trick helps you to won the game, this is your ace. And if u don’t use this ace, may be one day u will be sitting on the top floor of a big building, may be you will buy a luxury suite for living, may be u will ride a Rolls Royce and may be u will have everything, but u wont have the memories of the joy and fun that u can collect living in present only.
I again teleported myself to the place where I was about to be burned, but something went wrong in the middle, the smooth going teleporting system was shaking, I felt my body was shaking and I heard that my mother stopped crying, may be because she had accepted that I will never come back or may be because she was trying to wake me up. Her sweet voice touched my ear drums; get up dear, its 11 in the morning. And I woke up all of a sudden, I was just sitting, my eyes wide open, and I pinched myself, ouch it was reality, and that was a dream. Mom looking at me and wondering what happened to me. I was quite amazed that I was alive.
Is every thing fine??? Are you alright?? She asked.
“I m absolutely fine mom! U won’t believe what I just saw in dream” I said in a low smiling voice “I’ll tell all that to u later”
I had learned many things by this dream or now I should frame it as a “nightmare” that one should not forget, sometimes we get so busy in ourselves that we forget everyone who is or who someday was very close to us, and the only time after which we remember them is when they die. And this is the reason why some people look frustrated on such times, they are frustrated by themselves, their life that one day they will end up in same and this is not frustration possibly, this is fear. It looks like frustration because it came from anger which u cant show, and remember fear is the root of anger
I saw some relatives were making a bed for me, the same type which is used in the funerals to carry the dead. They were doing it traditionally, binding bamboo together and laying some hay straw on it and the several other things to provide the corpse with leisure. After a few minutes it was ready, and my body was lying on it. My father, grandfather uncle and cousins gave their shoulders to lift me up. Ladies in the house tried to stop them by grabbing my legs and some ladies came from backside tried to stop those ladies, and my body was going. I saw my mother stretching her hands towards my body and I was going out of her reach. As I went far her tears turned turbulent, her voice became louder and her crying increased. I could so nothing to help her, except for watching her. I gave a look at those three elder people who were assisting my brother, those fellows were surely shared same hard luck, they must had never thought of this, I mean who thinks that he will carry his son’s dead body, or who wants to, bout its just another trick of nature, may be to fulfill the wrongs that you have done or just to enjoy.
As I saw my body going I felt that all those portraits of a good life, better future, a big business, a big car, marrying her, living in a big house everything shattered, every thing was washed away, everything was going with my body, and I could do nothing. I remembered how I “invested” time for my better future which never exists and which will never exist now. I felt bad that I chose a different way, way to work, way on which I didn’t enjoyed the present but kept on thinking about future, way on which only my dreams were walking with me and since they were slow, I thought I m fast. I made no mistake in weaving dreams, I made mistake in making them true. Now at this point of time, I learned a few more good things, which I would follow in my next life( I am dreaming again, cant stop myself) that dreams do need a lot of effort to be converted into a real big thing , but not on the cost of life and definitely not on the cost of hurting anyone, be it friends, family, love anyone, and not on the cost of joy and pleasure that u can get with your loved ones, your friend, your family when u are with them. And what more I get to know was that this was a trick which was like a hidden file in nature, and this trick helps you to won the game, this is your ace. And if u don’t use this ace, may be one day u will be sitting on the top floor of a big building, may be you will buy a luxury suite for living, may be u will ride a Rolls Royce and may be u will have everything, but u wont have the memories of the joy and fun that u can collect living in present only.
I again teleported myself to the place where I was about to be burned, but something went wrong in the middle, the smooth going teleporting system was shaking, I felt my body was shaking and I heard that my mother stopped crying, may be because she had accepted that I will never come back or may be because she was trying to wake me up. Her sweet voice touched my ear drums; get up dear, its 11 in the morning. And I woke up all of a sudden, I was just sitting, my eyes wide open, and I pinched myself, ouch it was reality, and that was a dream. Mom looking at me and wondering what happened to me. I was quite amazed that I was alive.
Is every thing fine??? Are you alright?? She asked.
“I m absolutely fine mom! U won’t believe what I just saw in dream” I said in a low smiling voice “I’ll tell all that to u later”
I had learned many things by this dream or now I should frame it as a “nightmare” that one should not forget, sometimes we get so busy in ourselves that we forget everyone who is or who someday was very close to us, and the only time after which we remember them is when they die. And this is the reason why some people look frustrated on such times, they are frustrated by themselves, their life that one day they will end up in same and this is not frustration possibly, this is fear. It looks like frustration because it came from anger which u cant show, and remember fear is the root of anger
Friday, March 5, 2010
i was still alive 3
People started coming to my home. Soon they flooded the house as well as the street out side the house. Some came by car some by bus some on foot and some were still in trains. Everyone was informed about my death. My buas came crying and some friends of papa came with a calming face. Some neighbors gave their chairs to provide some seating to the guests and some mats were also laid on the road. I jumped on the street from the balcony to see all of them. All of them were quite silent, some sat on the red and white chairs, some sat on the mat, some neighbors were also peeping out of their balconies and some were trying to look from their windows. They were coming continuously, the number of scooters and bikes and cars increases outside my house. I saw them all; some were interested in the cause of death, while some preferred silence. Some were talking about their shares on mobile and some were chattering in the loudest voice allowed. Small kids were running one after each other, may be playing train-train, just like I use to play. At that time, it was the first time in my life when I see my picture in everyone’s eye, and in each eye it was with a different perspective, some said I was a nice guy and remembered the time that how I use to serve water to them with my little hands when I was a kid, while some said that I was rude and that I never even whished the. Some who saw me playing said he was good at cricket and some who saw me riding fast on the back seat of my friends said that I was a bully and bad element for “civilized” society. Some said that I was good at studies because I cracked JEE; some said I was just a cheater because I was not helping their son in doing the same. Different people were having different perceptions about me, and most of them were derived by one or in some cases, two, but one thing that they all shared in common was that every one ended saying “he must not have died”.
In the silence of sorrow outside the house, loud voices of ladies crying was clearly audible. They were roaring. I walked through a wall and reached a hall where all the women were sitting and my corpse was lying. This time its clothes were changed and the new ones replaced the night suit. Among them my mom, grandma, and buas were those who were sat nearer and who were crying the most, then as I saw till end, number of faces I knew decreased and at the end of the hall, hardly anyone was crying. I was smiling to see that the dead body is a dead body always, but only those cry who feel they lose it. One more thing I saw was the kids, some kids were also crying, not for me, but because their mummy was crying. Rest all the kids were behaving like kids, and they should also, because childhood never returns, and we should stay far, at least as far as possible from all these worldly things. Then my phone rang. I teleported myself to my room bt others took the stairs. It was her. The moment I saw her number calling I wished I could be there where she is and I reached there. I was in her room. I’ve met her two times in last 3 years, ever since I had known her. We have been together only on phone. I saw that she was still sleeping, rather pretending to be sleeping. She had sent me some messages which I sis not replied, so she was calling me. I realized one more power in me, I could hear her mind. She was saying pick up the phone, why are not you picking up the phone. She was looking beautiful and she was beautiful. Finally someone picked up the phone. It was my brother. He did not know her but then his and my voices are quite same so she got confused and said why you were not picking up the phone.
My brother said, I m sorry but he will never pick up your phone, his voice was like he was about to cry.
She was still thinking that it was me, so she said, what happened dear, why are you crying??
My brother answered very respectfully as if he understood who she was to me and said elder brother died this morning in sleep, he will never pick up your phone. And he cut the phone.
She was shocked. I don’t know bigger word o else I would have used, she was shocked. I don’t know why, everyone who listened about me or saw me dead, started staring at infinity. Not trying to hold the tears but they did not fell spontaneously as they use to do whenever I use to say any thing that can hurt her. But today she was really hurt. I was the first guy in her life and may be I was the last one. For last three years she has considered me as her god. She told me every single secret of her life, she talked to me every single day of these three years, she loved me more than anyone else can love me only after my parents, and whether or not I was with her, she was always with me. She was far away from me, always more than a 100 miles but she never ever thought of any one else. I saw her face, I saw her sad, that was the first time I saw her crying, but her heart was sad this time, really very very sad, and this time I truly figured out how she must have felt when I slept talking to her in night, when I did not replied to her SMSes, when I cut her phone when I was busy, when I told her that I cant talk because I have lot of work to do, when I scolded her for complaining that I am not romantic, for everything wrong that I did, and that I did very over and over again, but she never complained of anything, she never told me to part or ways, in fact I did. She shrunk herself, collected her knees closer to her, took her pillow, and bind her arms around the pillow, as if I am the pillow, and hid her face under the pillow for crying, as if she was crying on my shoulders. She did not screamed, just a long sigh and the mix sound of air through her nostrils and her crying was enough to explain everything. I always wanted to hug her, kiss her, touch her, to wipe her tears whenever she cried, to share her joy whenever she was happy, to see her face blooming like sunflower on her every point of success, and also to be with her, but inspite of being miles away, we were very close. Everything you wish need not come true, and you may not get everything you want to. I was happy that now I could be with her all the time, whenever I want, though she will never know.
I went back to my home. It was still the same. Only the number of people increased, my friends were also informed, some more relatives, cousins crying, friends crying, colleagues crying, only I was not crying. I come to know some more secrets of life, even those cry for you whom you think could never ever care for you, and it does not mean that a person who don’t cry for you don’t care for you. It means that he is considering that I might hurt your soul if you saw him crying and that your soul might not be happy after you saw him crying. I also came to know a few more good things which I have never thought of, the person who says something bad about you, or criticize you either on speeding in market or for not helping you, purposely wants to hurt you because he doesn’t want you to remember him, because if you remember him, you might feel sad. And those who praises you after your death, didn’t want to hurt you, but they think that your soul must live in peace, so they purposely say all those good things which they remember about you, just in case if God is listening, or some one told Him then He might provide your soul with more comfort. What else I took hold of was that all these are tricks designed by nature which you don’t want to play but the ultimate power of Him forces you to play all cards you have, sometime wrong sometimes right.
In the silence of sorrow outside the house, loud voices of ladies crying was clearly audible. They were roaring. I walked through a wall and reached a hall where all the women were sitting and my corpse was lying. This time its clothes were changed and the new ones replaced the night suit. Among them my mom, grandma, and buas were those who were sat nearer and who were crying the most, then as I saw till end, number of faces I knew decreased and at the end of the hall, hardly anyone was crying. I was smiling to see that the dead body is a dead body always, but only those cry who feel they lose it. One more thing I saw was the kids, some kids were also crying, not for me, but because their mummy was crying. Rest all the kids were behaving like kids, and they should also, because childhood never returns, and we should stay far, at least as far as possible from all these worldly things. Then my phone rang. I teleported myself to my room bt others took the stairs. It was her. The moment I saw her number calling I wished I could be there where she is and I reached there. I was in her room. I’ve met her two times in last 3 years, ever since I had known her. We have been together only on phone. I saw that she was still sleeping, rather pretending to be sleeping. She had sent me some messages which I sis not replied, so she was calling me. I realized one more power in me, I could hear her mind. She was saying pick up the phone, why are not you picking up the phone. She was looking beautiful and she was beautiful. Finally someone picked up the phone. It was my brother. He did not know her but then his and my voices are quite same so she got confused and said why you were not picking up the phone.
My brother said, I m sorry but he will never pick up your phone, his voice was like he was about to cry.
She was still thinking that it was me, so she said, what happened dear, why are you crying??
My brother answered very respectfully as if he understood who she was to me and said elder brother died this morning in sleep, he will never pick up your phone. And he cut the phone.
She was shocked. I don’t know bigger word o else I would have used, she was shocked. I don’t know why, everyone who listened about me or saw me dead, started staring at infinity. Not trying to hold the tears but they did not fell spontaneously as they use to do whenever I use to say any thing that can hurt her. But today she was really hurt. I was the first guy in her life and may be I was the last one. For last three years she has considered me as her god. She told me every single secret of her life, she talked to me every single day of these three years, she loved me more than anyone else can love me only after my parents, and whether or not I was with her, she was always with me. She was far away from me, always more than a 100 miles but she never ever thought of any one else. I saw her face, I saw her sad, that was the first time I saw her crying, but her heart was sad this time, really very very sad, and this time I truly figured out how she must have felt when I slept talking to her in night, when I did not replied to her SMSes, when I cut her phone when I was busy, when I told her that I cant talk because I have lot of work to do, when I scolded her for complaining that I am not romantic, for everything wrong that I did, and that I did very over and over again, but she never complained of anything, she never told me to part or ways, in fact I did. She shrunk herself, collected her knees closer to her, took her pillow, and bind her arms around the pillow, as if I am the pillow, and hid her face under the pillow for crying, as if she was crying on my shoulders. She did not screamed, just a long sigh and the mix sound of air through her nostrils and her crying was enough to explain everything. I always wanted to hug her, kiss her, touch her, to wipe her tears whenever she cried, to share her joy whenever she was happy, to see her face blooming like sunflower on her every point of success, and also to be with her, but inspite of being miles away, we were very close. Everything you wish need not come true, and you may not get everything you want to. I was happy that now I could be with her all the time, whenever I want, though she will never know.
I went back to my home. It was still the same. Only the number of people increased, my friends were also informed, some more relatives, cousins crying, friends crying, colleagues crying, only I was not crying. I come to know some more secrets of life, even those cry for you whom you think could never ever care for you, and it does not mean that a person who don’t cry for you don’t care for you. It means that he is considering that I might hurt your soul if you saw him crying and that your soul might not be happy after you saw him crying. I also came to know a few more good things which I have never thought of, the person who says something bad about you, or criticize you either on speeding in market or for not helping you, purposely wants to hurt you because he doesn’t want you to remember him, because if you remember him, you might feel sad. And those who praises you after your death, didn’t want to hurt you, but they think that your soul must live in peace, so they purposely say all those good things which they remember about you, just in case if God is listening, or some one told Him then He might provide your soul with more comfort. What else I took hold of was that all these are tricks designed by nature which you don’t want to play but the ultimate power of Him forces you to play all cards you have, sometime wrong sometimes right.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
i was still alive 2
In the time papa rushed in with family doctor Mr. Mahesh. He was also woken up from death sleep because his face was not washed and his eyes were swollen because he worked late last night. He checked my nerves, checked heartbeat, inspected my eyes and said the first word of the morning after my mother stopped screaming,
“Your son is no more”
How could that be possible, I was standing at his back and he declared me dead. I objected and my mother bursted into tears, my grand mother also joined her. My objection voice was buried under the two women’s screams and crying. I saw that the tears which my grandfather was trying to hold were now streaming down his face.
This made me think that I am dead. I could see them, I could see tem all crying. My father who never cried in front of me was hiding himself against the wall to cry. May be he didn’t want me to see him crying. The scene was so anguish, painful for me, for everyone. No one was ready to believe this. My mom jumped to my chest and was pleading me to wake up as I do every morning. She tried everything, she demanded me, she prayed to god, she ordered me on her name, she told me to give me a bike which I was demanding for a long time, bt I, like a bad disobedient boy, did not listened to her, I dint woke up that day, though I wanted to. Dr. Mahesh pulled the blanket over my head, prayed for something, may be for me or may be for my family, because we both were in same state and then as a friend gave my father a shoulder to cry.
I’ve heard that souls fly, if I was a soul then I must fly, I gave it a try and I was air borne.
That was the time when I wanted to cry too with all my loved ones but souls cant cry. I dis every thing to make sure that I am no more now, I walked through walls, I teleported my self to my hostel room in Roorkee, my class and then back to my home. While everyone was crying and I saw everyone crying my mind again diverted into random thoughts. I asked myself
“Why me?”
“Why my soul is not free?”
“How can I die?”
“Do every one passes the same situation after death?”
“If yes, then where is everyone else?”
“If no, then why me?”
“Am I being punished?”
“Is this my punishment?”
That was the biggest pain of my life, watching everyone crying for my death and I can only see them crying, asking god to blow life in my motionless body, asking for my life in place of their life, and I cant go and tell them that “HERE I AM, DON’T CRY”
DR. Mahesh, who was now Mahesh bhai, made call to Rakesh uncle, Anil uncle and several other friends whom I don’t know.
My alarm rang, indicating that it is now 8:00 AM, if my cell had a life like us, he would have never rang, coz then he would have known that I will never woke up, poor he, rang and my father turned it off.
This distraction made him to collect his senses and he went to the other room, he then made calls to all our relatives, friends and other people and I saw how he hold his tears and how he controlled himself from bursting like a volcano every time he was asked “HOW???” it was hard for me to see all this and I was feeling sad, very sad, I was feeling like I never felt ever when I was alive. To escape from all this agony, I went back again in balcony. This time my mind was not thinking any thing possibly because now it had learnt that it did not exist or may be because all its thoughts were washed away by the tears of my family. I saw people outside my house on the street, were whispering in small knots of 3-4 people, mostly ladies. Possibly they I was the point of their discussions. This time my steps were slow, as if they will walk slowly then the time will slow down, bt poor they, they don’t know, or may be they were denying the fact that time does not change its pace for anyone, it make others change their pace.
“Your son is no more”
How could that be possible, I was standing at his back and he declared me dead. I objected and my mother bursted into tears, my grand mother also joined her. My objection voice was buried under the two women’s screams and crying. I saw that the tears which my grandfather was trying to hold were now streaming down his face.
This made me think that I am dead. I could see them, I could see tem all crying. My father who never cried in front of me was hiding himself against the wall to cry. May be he didn’t want me to see him crying. The scene was so anguish, painful for me, for everyone. No one was ready to believe this. My mom jumped to my chest and was pleading me to wake up as I do every morning. She tried everything, she demanded me, she prayed to god, she ordered me on her name, she told me to give me a bike which I was demanding for a long time, bt I, like a bad disobedient boy, did not listened to her, I dint woke up that day, though I wanted to. Dr. Mahesh pulled the blanket over my head, prayed for something, may be for me or may be for my family, because we both were in same state and then as a friend gave my father a shoulder to cry.
I’ve heard that souls fly, if I was a soul then I must fly, I gave it a try and I was air borne.
That was the time when I wanted to cry too with all my loved ones but souls cant cry. I dis every thing to make sure that I am no more now, I walked through walls, I teleported my self to my hostel room in Roorkee, my class and then back to my home. While everyone was crying and I saw everyone crying my mind again diverted into random thoughts. I asked myself
“Why me?”
“Why my soul is not free?”
“How can I die?”
“Do every one passes the same situation after death?”
“If yes, then where is everyone else?”
“If no, then why me?”
“Am I being punished?”
“Is this my punishment?”
That was the biggest pain of my life, watching everyone crying for my death and I can only see them crying, asking god to blow life in my motionless body, asking for my life in place of their life, and I cant go and tell them that “HERE I AM, DON’T CRY”
DR. Mahesh, who was now Mahesh bhai, made call to Rakesh uncle, Anil uncle and several other friends whom I don’t know.
My alarm rang, indicating that it is now 8:00 AM, if my cell had a life like us, he would have never rang, coz then he would have known that I will never woke up, poor he, rang and my father turned it off.
This distraction made him to collect his senses and he went to the other room, he then made calls to all our relatives, friends and other people and I saw how he hold his tears and how he controlled himself from bursting like a volcano every time he was asked “HOW???” it was hard for me to see all this and I was feeling sad, very sad, I was feeling like I never felt ever when I was alive. To escape from all this agony, I went back again in balcony. This time my mind was not thinking any thing possibly because now it had learnt that it did not exist or may be because all its thoughts were washed away by the tears of my family. I saw people outside my house on the street, were whispering in small knots of 3-4 people, mostly ladies. Possibly they I was the point of their discussions. This time my steps were slow, as if they will walk slowly then the time will slow down, bt poor they, they don’t know, or may be they were denying the fact that time does not change its pace for anyone, it make others change their pace.
Monday, March 1, 2010
i was still alive 1
Hanging on the roof the fan spun about 10 fts above my head making a noise as its wings pierced air, the window curtains and the table cloth continued to wave as I undo the blanket over me and got down from the bed rubbing my ass over the mattress and bending my legs. My feet didn’t felt any sensation when it touched the ground, quite as a surprise to me but they dint felt any temperature difference. That day I woke up earlier than I do in the normal schedule. I pulled the curtains slightly to see the sky, it was dark blue or blackish blue with almost no stars twinkling and dogs crying, wind was also blowing and it took away all the voices that came from the vehicles running on the nearby road. It was still dark and the only thing visible was some dark images of curtains and the table cloth that was waving against the bluish grey turned white walls. To get a better idea of time I turned on the light to see the watch hanging on the only odd colored wall of the room. It showed 03:33:33AM. I opened the door, walked some time in the balcony in the dark, thinking on random issues. Then I thought of sleeping again. I came back in the room and gave a look on the watch to see how much time is left in dawn. It was still showing the same time. I smiled to myself as I said what a time for a watch to be a martyr. I turned off the light and was going to my bed when I saw that someone is already sleeping on my bed with blanket till forehead. I was traumatized. I turned on the light again, I was thinking that who could it be, I did not heard any one coming to m room, neither I heard any sound of opening the door. I went nearer, hesitatingly draw the sheet slowly from fore head to the chin and I jumped back.
It was me.
I was dazed, somewhat horrified also but more in a state of mental shock. Its not always when u woke up in the night, u go out of your room and when u come back u find yourself lying on the bed. I rushed to my parents’ room and tried to wake up my mom but she did not reacted as if she never heard me shouting on her ear. Then I tried to wake up dad but all in vain. I made several futile attempts to wake up my brother and mom dad. I was running from room to room in horror, shouting but everyone was lying like a corpse, not even moving millimeters, even the thing lying on my bed was like a corpse only, having no sensations, no breath, nothing. At least others were changing their positions on the bed, but I (if that was me) was lying in the same one position, as I sleep, with stomach on the bed and back side exposed. I came out of the room and locked the room from out side and took the key with me. I then walked in the balcony till the dawn, this time my steps were faster, and my mind was more concentrated in thought process.
Finally, I saw some one on the street out side, then the number of people increased on the street everyone busy in their regular schedules, someone filling water from the taps, some one drying his clothes on the roof after bathing, someone reading newspaper in his lawn, women going to fetch milk chattering, birds singing on the mango tree, sweeper sweeping the street, young girls going to the temple with wet hair and flowers in hand. Everything was normal only me and this episode was strange.
At last I hear the sweet chime of mamas payal, she had woken up, I rushed to her and said mummy someone is on my bed. She did not even react. Now this was really very strange. I was shouting in front of her, my face horrified and no signs of worry on her face, something was not right today. She then went to my room and I followed her, she opened the door and it opened. I locked that freaking door by my own hands, and it opened in one shot .This was ridiculous. She then tried to wake up that thing lying on my place but it didn’t moved . Mama turned it upside down, this time her face was pale and tiny drops of water on her forehead. Se screamed for my father and he also came running hearing her crying. My father tried to wake me up, but I dint moved. He was pressing my ribcase , slapping me, shouting on me but all the attempts were out of hope. My brother and grandparents also came to my room hearing the screams. My mom was crying uncontrollably and grand mother was consoling her, though she was also crying. My father rushed for the doctor immediately and grand father was just sitting on the sofa near my bed, staring at infinity, with tears in his eyes. In all this trauma, no one saw me or to my thought, ignored me. I was not able to understand why they all were behaving like this. I was trying to talk everyone but no one responded. May be they all were busy in crying or consoling that’s why they were giving less importance to me. Then I moved to my brother, he was neither crying nor consoling nor staring at the infinity, he was just standing against a wall, and may be he was also trying to understand the whole story just like me, so in a hope that I will get some response I asked him that what happened but again he behaved a if he never saw me
It was me.
I was dazed, somewhat horrified also but more in a state of mental shock. Its not always when u woke up in the night, u go out of your room and when u come back u find yourself lying on the bed. I rushed to my parents’ room and tried to wake up my mom but she did not reacted as if she never heard me shouting on her ear. Then I tried to wake up dad but all in vain. I made several futile attempts to wake up my brother and mom dad. I was running from room to room in horror, shouting but everyone was lying like a corpse, not even moving millimeters, even the thing lying on my bed was like a corpse only, having no sensations, no breath, nothing. At least others were changing their positions on the bed, but I (if that was me) was lying in the same one position, as I sleep, with stomach on the bed and back side exposed. I came out of the room and locked the room from out side and took the key with me. I then walked in the balcony till the dawn, this time my steps were faster, and my mind was more concentrated in thought process.
Finally, I saw some one on the street out side, then the number of people increased on the street everyone busy in their regular schedules, someone filling water from the taps, some one drying his clothes on the roof after bathing, someone reading newspaper in his lawn, women going to fetch milk chattering, birds singing on the mango tree, sweeper sweeping the street, young girls going to the temple with wet hair and flowers in hand. Everything was normal only me and this episode was strange.
At last I hear the sweet chime of mamas payal, she had woken up, I rushed to her and said mummy someone is on my bed. She did not even react. Now this was really very strange. I was shouting in front of her, my face horrified and no signs of worry on her face, something was not right today. She then went to my room and I followed her, she opened the door and it opened. I locked that freaking door by my own hands, and it opened in one shot .This was ridiculous. She then tried to wake up that thing lying on my place but it didn’t moved . Mama turned it upside down, this time her face was pale and tiny drops of water on her forehead. Se screamed for my father and he also came running hearing her crying. My father tried to wake me up, but I dint moved. He was pressing my ribcase , slapping me, shouting on me but all the attempts were out of hope. My brother and grandparents also came to my room hearing the screams. My mom was crying uncontrollably and grand mother was consoling her, though she was also crying. My father rushed for the doctor immediately and grand father was just sitting on the sofa near my bed, staring at infinity, with tears in his eyes. In all this trauma, no one saw me or to my thought, ignored me. I was not able to understand why they all were behaving like this. I was trying to talk everyone but no one responded. May be they all were busy in crying or consoling that’s why they were giving less importance to me. Then I moved to my brother, he was neither crying nor consoling nor staring at the infinity, he was just standing against a wall, and may be he was also trying to understand the whole story just like me, so in a hope that I will get some response I asked him that what happened but again he behaved a if he never saw me
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
something in the air
One lazy morning,
I woke on my bed,
With a storm still in my mind,
And me lost in the night,
Whn u had came,
And said that,
You wanna be mine,
You…I love you guy.
And then came a blow of wind,
With ur fragnance in it,
And I could surely say,
Love was in the air.
I woke on my bed,
With a storm still in my mind,
And me lost in the night,
Whn u had came,
And said that,
You wanna be mine,
You…I love you guy.
And then came a blow of wind,
With ur fragnance in it,
And I could surely say,
Love was in the air.
something in the air
One lazy morning,
I woke on my bed,
With a storm still in my mind,
And me lost in the night,
Whn u had came,
And said that,
You wanna be mine,
You…I love you guy.
And then came a blow of wind,
With ur fragnance in it,
And I could surely say,
Love was in the air.
I woke on my bed,
With a storm still in my mind,
And me lost in the night,
Whn u had came,
And said that,
You wanna be mine,
You…I love you guy.
And then came a blow of wind,
With ur fragnance in it,
And I could surely say,
Love was in the air.
bachpan k din
Tanha tanha hoon na,
Ab tere bin hai na.
Sab hai yaha,
Na h wo din
Tu chala gaya leke mere,
Wo pyare bachpan k din.
Amber jb dost tha,
udti dil ki patang thi.
Khuda b khilone the,
Dil me jb umang thi.
Gudda gudia ki shadi thi,
Aur cycle hi sathi thi
Muhalle k sare bacche,
Chupa chuppi khelte the,
Kabhi budi chichi k ghar,
Kbhi purani car me chupte the,
Sath rehna, sath firna
Khelte khelte aapas me ladna
Ruthna aur manana,
Mummy ka pyar se roz roz nehlana.
Ped pe chad k masti karna
Aur jhule k liye jhagadna
Chandni chand se leke,
aur hire taro se.
Gathri me bandh rakhe the.
Hasi to hatho me leke,
Baante hum phirte the.
Raeth k wo mahal,
Aur mitti k batase,
Koi batae lau kahase.
Wo rang birangi chudia,
Aur bejan patthar,
Un tim timate taro me,
Mere khwabo ka ghar
Ek rupae ki kimat,
Jaise koi khajana,
Bachpan k pehle pyar ko,
Cycle pe ghumana.
Sham dhalte hi,
Roz park me jana.
Papa k kandhe pe chadke,
Toffee ki jid machana.
Ae waqt tu b sath nhi h ab,
Bata m kya karu,
Itni hasi yade h bachpan ki,
Chahu to b na maru.
Lauta do mujhe kahi se bhi,
Wo mere pyare bachpan k din,
Ab nhi rha jata unke bin.
Ab tere bin hai na.
Sab hai yaha,
Na h wo din
Tu chala gaya leke mere,
Wo pyare bachpan k din.
Amber jb dost tha,
udti dil ki patang thi.
Khuda b khilone the,
Dil me jb umang thi.
Gudda gudia ki shadi thi,
Aur cycle hi sathi thi
Muhalle k sare bacche,
Chupa chuppi khelte the,
Kabhi budi chichi k ghar,
Kbhi purani car me chupte the,
Sath rehna, sath firna
Khelte khelte aapas me ladna
Ruthna aur manana,
Mummy ka pyar se roz roz nehlana.
Ped pe chad k masti karna
Aur jhule k liye jhagadna
Chandni chand se leke,
aur hire taro se.
Gathri me bandh rakhe the.
Hasi to hatho me leke,
Baante hum phirte the.
Raeth k wo mahal,
Aur mitti k batase,
Koi batae lau kahase.
Wo rang birangi chudia,
Aur bejan patthar,
Un tim timate taro me,
Mere khwabo ka ghar
Ek rupae ki kimat,
Jaise koi khajana,
Bachpan k pehle pyar ko,
Cycle pe ghumana.
Sham dhalte hi,
Roz park me jana.
Papa k kandhe pe chadke,
Toffee ki jid machana.
Ae waqt tu b sath nhi h ab,
Bata m kya karu,
Itni hasi yade h bachpan ki,
Chahu to b na maru.
Lauta do mujhe kahi se bhi,
Wo mere pyare bachpan k din,
Ab nhi rha jata unke bin.
Maa
Tanha hu main maa,
Ab tere bina,
Chalu kaise main?
Ab jaun kha?
Yaad, teri yaad maa,
Saath, mere saath maa,
In bheegi bheegi palko me,
Saja k rakhoo,
Tere bina kuch hota nahi,
Tere bina accha lagta nahi,
Tu jo nhi h maa yha,
Ab sath mere koi nhi.
Teri godi ki yaade aae maa,
Aae maa,
Teri lori k bol satae ma,
Satae maa,
Aur tera pyar ka wo aanchal,
Kyu na ab chupae ma,
Bachae maa
Iss bheed me, main khoya ma,
Tu aaja na,
Aur tham le meri ungli maa,
Main tanha maa,
Ab tere bina……
Ab tere bina,
Chalu kaise main?
Ab jaun kha?
Yaad, teri yaad maa,
Saath, mere saath maa,
In bheegi bheegi palko me,
Saja k rakhoo,
Tere bina kuch hota nahi,
Tere bina accha lagta nahi,
Tu jo nhi h maa yha,
Ab sath mere koi nhi.
Teri godi ki yaade aae maa,
Aae maa,
Teri lori k bol satae ma,
Satae maa,
Aur tera pyar ka wo aanchal,
Kyu na ab chupae ma,
Bachae maa
Iss bheed me, main khoya ma,
Tu aaja na,
Aur tham le meri ungli maa,
Main tanha maa,
Ab tere bina……
The World of My Heart
I hope, I pray,
I will meet u some day,
And on that fine day,
Everything will be right.
Clouds will rain again,
And i’ll get rid of pain.
May be,
We will shed some tears,
But finally we will find a place,
For some smile and cheers.
The trees will shed the snow,
Hanging on the branches,
And leaves for so long.
And the gifted teddy bear,
Will wake up after sleeping so long.
The enviornment which is,
Full of dark and sorrow,
I wish for some light,
Which i could borrow.
The sad black walls,
Along which i am creeping,
Are all covered with moss,
Reciting of the loss,
Beared in the end of june.
The clouds floating above my head,
Are deep grey and sad,
And the sky above is colder,
I feel it should be blue instead,
Just as it used to be earlier.
But I hpoe and i pray,
And I will continue to pray,
And this colour,
Will be no more grey,
When I meet you,
Some day,
One fine day.
May be I will find out an end,
Of this dark never ending road,
And my back will get some relief,
From this continously increasing load.
Ormay be,
These clouds will also rain,
Just like my eyes wanted to,
But tears cannot find the way,
But surley they will rain,
Some day,
That fine day.
Here i am,
Just walking, or may be crippling,
But all alone.
I wish that you would be with me.
But on this wet and glossy road,
My odyssey is continuing,
For a long time,
And it will continue,
Till I meet You,
Some day,
That fine day.
May be,
The sky will be no more dark,
And i will see some light again,
Peeping from these grey clouds,
Filling the world of my heart,
With the same joy and pleasure,
That i felt before,
When i was with you.
The sky will turn blue again,
When i will meet you,
Some day,
That fine day.
May be,
The dark supple trees,
Will no more be just logs,
They will be nest for birds again,
The moisture in the air,
Will be eradicated,
By the smiling sunny face of you.
The darkness of horizon,
And the llong long staying,
Winter season so sad,
Will be lightful bright and mad,
Mad in happiness.
And here,
Yes here in my heart,
Spring will arive again,
On the day i will meet you,
One day,
That fine day,
The imagination of love,
Will walk again,
Just like the rusty bicycles,
Which comes out after so long.
The twinkling nights will see us,
Talking on the roof again.
The flowers will smile again,
And the fragnance of rose,
Will add up to make,
Everything happy again,
When i will meet you,
Some day,
That fine day,
The world of my heart,
Will be happy again.
Vote for me now! Blogomania 2010 sponsored by Odyssey360 | The 24 hour online book store with 5 milion books to choose from.
I will meet u some day,
And on that fine day,
Everything will be right.
Clouds will rain again,
And i’ll get rid of pain.
May be,
We will shed some tears,
But finally we will find a place,
For some smile and cheers.
The trees will shed the snow,
Hanging on the branches,
And leaves for so long.
And the gifted teddy bear,
Will wake up after sleeping so long.
The enviornment which is,
Full of dark and sorrow,
I wish for some light,
Which i could borrow.
The sad black walls,
Along which i am creeping,
Are all covered with moss,
Reciting of the loss,
Beared in the end of june.
The clouds floating above my head,
Are deep grey and sad,
And the sky above is colder,
I feel it should be blue instead,
Just as it used to be earlier.
But I hpoe and i pray,
And I will continue to pray,
And this colour,
Will be no more grey,
When I meet you,
Some day,
One fine day.
May be I will find out an end,
Of this dark never ending road,
And my back will get some relief,
From this continously increasing load.
Ormay be,
These clouds will also rain,
Just like my eyes wanted to,
But tears cannot find the way,
But surley they will rain,
Some day,
That fine day.
Here i am,
Just walking, or may be crippling,
But all alone.
I wish that you would be with me.
But on this wet and glossy road,
My odyssey is continuing,
For a long time,
And it will continue,
Till I meet You,
Some day,
That fine day.
May be,
The sky will be no more dark,
And i will see some light again,
Peeping from these grey clouds,
Filling the world of my heart,
With the same joy and pleasure,
That i felt before,
When i was with you.
The sky will turn blue again,
When i will meet you,
Some day,
That fine day.
May be,
The dark supple trees,
Will no more be just logs,
They will be nest for birds again,
The moisture in the air,
Will be eradicated,
By the smiling sunny face of you.
The darkness of horizon,
And the llong long staying,
Winter season so sad,
Will be lightful bright and mad,
Mad in happiness.
And here,
Yes here in my heart,
Spring will arive again,
On the day i will meet you,
One day,
That fine day,
The imagination of love,
Will walk again,
Just like the rusty bicycles,
Which comes out after so long.
The twinkling nights will see us,
Talking on the roof again.
The flowers will smile again,
And the fragnance of rose,
Will add up to make,
Everything happy again,
When i will meet you,
Some day,
That fine day,
The world of my heart,
Will be happy again.
Vote for me now! Blogomania 2010 sponsored by Odyssey360 | The 24 hour online book store with 5 milion books to choose from.
Monday, February 1, 2010
Poor Little Bird
i like this one very much,
it says much about world, what you thought it is, and what you see this at times......
this is the tale of a bird who died fighting the orthodox rules of the forg's well story type......
Once upon a time,
Is from where i should begin,
this tale of a bird;
who tried to fly,
with some dreams within,
and a vision to win.
Limits he wanted to scale;
of the mighty blue sky,
violating the wordly rules,
yes these false one.
That poor little bird,
started his flight.
To live his dream,
he had a goal;
fly in the sky s high,
where he will free his soul.
Quiet confident was he,
about the victory;
And sure for him,
the pinnacle was gonna be.
But please,
oh pleae,
someone go,
to tell that poor fool,
its not an easy job,
when you break their rule.
Even getting close to your goal,
in this little world,
is such a big thing;
and if you fly,
all will hate,
though they may deny.
But poor he again,
could not saw the worldly game,
bedtime stories he had heard,
were never the same.
Like crabs they will be jealous,
if you ever rise,
oh, such a shame;
but he never realized.
Somehow fighting the world,
he was air borne,
rising high and high,
he never cared for one.
and then happen something,
all of a surprise.
and he was falling;
is what he realized.
no one blocked the way,
or pull him back,
they cut his wings,
they stabbed from the back.
his wings were not taken,
his dreams were broken;
and the word of success he had,
remained unspoken.
And then he fell,
lifeless, like never flew before!
from this good world,
you cant expect anymore.
while he died,
he was flying,
but he dint cried,
coz he was still living.
it says much about world, what you thought it is, and what you see this at times......
this is the tale of a bird who died fighting the orthodox rules of the forg's well story type......
Once upon a time,
Is from where i should begin,
this tale of a bird;
who tried to fly,
with some dreams within,
and a vision to win.
Limits he wanted to scale;
of the mighty blue sky,
violating the wordly rules,
yes these false one.
That poor little bird,
started his flight.
To live his dream,
he had a goal;
fly in the sky s high,
where he will free his soul.
Quiet confident was he,
about the victory;
And sure for him,
the pinnacle was gonna be.
But please,
oh pleae,
someone go,
to tell that poor fool,
its not an easy job,
when you break their rule.
Even getting close to your goal,
in this little world,
is such a big thing;
and if you fly,
all will hate,
though they may deny.
But poor he again,
could not saw the worldly game,
bedtime stories he had heard,
were never the same.
Like crabs they will be jealous,
if you ever rise,
oh, such a shame;
but he never realized.
Somehow fighting the world,
he was air borne,
rising high and high,
he never cared for one.
and then happen something,
all of a surprise.
and he was falling;
is what he realized.
no one blocked the way,
or pull him back,
they cut his wings,
they stabbed from the back.
his wings were not taken,
his dreams were broken;
and the word of success he had,
remained unspoken.
And then he fell,
lifeless, like never flew before!
from this good world,
you cant expect anymore.
while he died,
he was flying,
but he dint cried,
coz he was still living.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
mom...
its all alone,
without you mom,
its hard to move,
without you mom
its dark and low,
without you mom
everyone is foe,
without u mon….
you make me try,
you put me high,
there’s nothing in me,
without you mom.
And I m the theme,
Of your dreams mom…
You are not away,
Yes you are here,
Right inside of me,
In my heart mom.
When I close my eyes,
Just for a while,
All I see is your face,
Waiting for me,
And I can see,
How sad you are,
Without me mom,
And here,
I feel the same way u feel,
Without u mom,
I am all alone,
Without you mom..
Love u maaaa….
without you mom,
its hard to move,
without you mom
its dark and low,
without you mom
everyone is foe,
without u mon….
you make me try,
you put me high,
there’s nothing in me,
without you mom.
And I m the theme,
Of your dreams mom…
You are not away,
Yes you are here,
Right inside of me,
In my heart mom.
When I close my eyes,
Just for a while,
All I see is your face,
Waiting for me,
And I can see,
How sad you are,
Without me mom,
And here,
I feel the same way u feel,
Without u mom,
I am all alone,
Without you mom..
Love u maaaa….
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
panchi
Duniya ki reet se alag,
Tanha aaawara,
Udne chala ek panchi,
Paagal bechara.
Khwabo ko jeetne wo,
Uncha hi udta chala
Usko yakeen tha k,
Wo paega ek din manjil ko.
Par ayro koi jao,
Us pagal ko samjhao,
Is jag me pana manjil ko,
Aasan nahi h,
Is ruswa ruche jag me,
Koi apna nhi h,
Par usko na sunna tha,
Usko to bas udna tha,
Tar k par jake,
Use khwabo ko paana tha,
Udta chala wo yaro,
Madmast hoke,
Aisi himmat na thi,
K koi usko roke,
Par usko kya pata tha,
Sapno jaisa salona,
Ye jaha nahi h,
Uska uncha ho jana,
Sabko bhata nahi hai,
Use roka na kisi ne,
Par,
Par uske kat diye,
Fir aise gra wo yaro,
Jaise kabhi uda hi na ho,
Par na mode uske yaro,
Sapne tode the,
Khwab uske man me,
Adhure chode the,
Wo to girta hi raha,
Aur hasta hi raha,
Girta hi raha,
Aur hasta hi raha,
Par marte hue bhi yaro,
Wo udta hi raha.
Tanha aaawara,
Udne chala ek panchi,
Paagal bechara.
Khwabo ko jeetne wo,
Uncha hi udta chala
Usko yakeen tha k,
Wo paega ek din manjil ko.
Par ayro koi jao,
Us pagal ko samjhao,
Is jag me pana manjil ko,
Aasan nahi h,
Is ruswa ruche jag me,
Koi apna nhi h,
Par usko na sunna tha,
Usko to bas udna tha,
Tar k par jake,
Use khwabo ko paana tha,
Udta chala wo yaro,
Madmast hoke,
Aisi himmat na thi,
K koi usko roke,
Par usko kya pata tha,
Sapno jaisa salona,
Ye jaha nahi h,
Uska uncha ho jana,
Sabko bhata nahi hai,
Use roka na kisi ne,
Par,
Par uske kat diye,
Fir aise gra wo yaro,
Jaise kabhi uda hi na ho,
Par na mode uske yaro,
Sapne tode the,
Khwab uske man me,
Adhure chode the,
Wo to girta hi raha,
Aur hasta hi raha,
Girta hi raha,
Aur hasta hi raha,
Par marte hue bhi yaro,
Wo udta hi raha.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)