Gateway to Madness

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As the night lurked towards the peak of its darkness encompassing the silence, filled with whispering hiss and fuming fog, the world slept – unaware.
While they slept a dreamy sleep, it was arising, spreading rapidly like a forest fire. Bound to kill the humanity and a fatal weapon used by the inhumane, Chaos was born.
Chaos, unfortunately, has become a life component who everyone has unknowingly accepted to live with. It’s a complicated web getting complex each day and, like a black hole, it is sucking the living being into its complexity. What we are failing to understand is that it’s the chaos sitting in the nucleus around which all the problems revolve. And yet we are embracing it with open arms and welcoming it in our lives.
The whole world is connected together just with a single tap on a screen. Although this isn’t the ‘chaos’, but it definitely lays a foundation for the same. One bad decision, one bad day, one bad mind or one bad motive; it just requires one of these to set the fire of chaos into motion.
Terrorism is an act of one bad motive by one bad mind which eventually results to one bad day in the life of countless innocents. Chaos is unknowingly ruling this world in most unconventional forms. And it is that unconventional form which keeps it well hidden under its cover. People have become an integral part of it and, therefore, fail to spot wolf residing in their own packs.
Our, or for the matter of fact, any country’s democratic system is a humongous chaos in itself. Day by day problems are swarming in and are nowhere near to commensurate the number of solutions. Every effort made by our system gives rise to numerous for and against comments and views. The result of this for and against debate arises two groups who stringently believe their side of the debate to be true. So, from the action taken by government to the debate on an individual level, chaos stealth’s smoothly and knits itself systematically in our life.
A human is struggling on an individual level too. Every character on this earth becomes a prey for chaos at one or other point in his/her life. Our mind is occupied with so much of useless thoughts and phantasms which eventually downgrades the value of present. Everyone seems to go through a hard time or have changed drastically because of something or someone who gave them a hard time. No one can justify their behaviour but those two people and when they do its usually chaotic.
Now the question is, are we just one step away from converting the chaos into madness? I would like to share a brilliant piece of writing. An absolutely amazing wordplay –
“I have proved my point. I’ve demonstrated there’s no difference between me and everyone else! All it takes is one bad day to reduce the sanest man alive to lunacy. That’s how far the world is from where I am. Just one bad day”
— Joker, Batman-The Killing Joke.
Reading this monologue, delivered by the most vicious villain ever, forces us to think hard and, surprisingly, convinces us to believe the harsh truth hidden in those lines. Observing the world, in the 21st century, we are slowly and gradually becoming slaves of master chaos. Everything that begins with an innocuous motive ends up with pernicious effects. Misconception leads us to think that it’s the people behind the effects, whereas, they are just the minions working to save themselves from the whip of chaos. Chaos is an opportunity for the people who promote it. For normal people it’s the gateway to madness.
Whenever you find yourself indignant because of someone, try to subdue your anger. Embrace patience and it will bring you out of your vexatious self. Over thinking is a way chaos can sneak in your life. Save yourself from the unaware entry and sleep with a satisfaction and belief that no one but you controls your life.

“Maybe ordinary people don’t always crack. Maybe there isn’t any need to crawl under a rock with all the other slimy things when trouble hits. Maybe it was just you all the time!”
— Batman’s response to Joker’s claim, The Killing Joke.

Try not to crawl under the rocks, stand with a puffed chest and face the problems as if you were born to do it so.

Peace.

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My First Short Film

Hello folks,

Recently I have been involved in something which I tremendously love to do – make films. The story which I first thought two months back finally was put into motion to make a short. I am posting here late but please have a look. The short film is titled ‘Talab’ which is a hindi word for ‘addiction’.

Please share if you like the film. Hope you enjoy it. Click below.

Cheers 🙂

Click here to watch the movie

A War for Identity – Let me Register (Part I)

A WAR FOR IDENTITY

A WAR FOR IDENTITY

        A bag weighing almost 13 kg in his right hand, a blue bag pack hanging on his back, and with an exuberant smile on his face Raj was back at what he called his second home. A new year, a new semester, new hopes and numerous exciting events were unfolding layer by layer inside Raj’s mind. He stood in front of his hostel, with the same smile, staring at a board which was dully lit with white lights making the letters on it read HOSTEL 8.

        The evening was cold but this start of a new semester brought a comforting warmth with it. He had realized, not as a part of his new year resolution but to be a better person, that the ups and downs of the previous year had taught him how to be a stable person and he would implement them. But the new year was no one but the same old devil with a new mask. It had some crazy plans sketched beforehand for Raj and with the first ray of sun, Raj would feel the heat increasing beyond his bearing.

        Paperwork was the thing Raj had hated the most other than his own birthday, but it was inevitable. Only paying fees weren’t enough here. One needed to go through a messed up process and bury oneself under humongous paperwork just to mark your existence and confirm it. Raj was about to get himself a real squashed up treat on the second day of a whole new and ‘bright’ year.

        The dried leaves crisped and crackled as he stepped upon them. Morning breeze blushed through the newly sprouted leaves. To avoid the crowd and long lines Raj had decided to be the first person to enter the bank as soon as its shutter went up. He was right. He was the first person standing in front of the closed shutter which still was 15 minutes away from rising. In the meantime, Raj basked himself under the mild sun.

         A man with long hair, split in half through the nose-line, unlocked the shutter sharp at 10. He had a dark complexion and was wearing a black full-bordered frame spectacles. He entered the bank and waved outside signaling to wait five more minutes. In the past 15 minutes, the alley was filled with almost a couple of dozen people. Apparently, Raj was not the only one with the unique idea. His idea was unique, just like everyone else.

        He noticed a girl with small but shiny almond eyes and straight hair, a guy with his face covered in freckles hiding under his trimmed beard, a girl with a chubby face and lively smile standing among the crowd waiting anxiously to get over the first step of registration.

        After another signal from the guy with half-split hair, the crowd rushed towards the door like a flock of pigeons crowding on a hand full of grains. The war for identity had begun. The very first step in the registration procedure required to fill in two forms with almost similar details and one small change, the amount. One form was to confirm the semester fee- 12350/- and the other one for mess charges-13500/-.

        Raj, although being the first, stuffed in the crowd succeeded to acquire both the forms and come out of it safely. He sighed a relief as he thought himself to be one of the lucky people to get hold of the forms during the early hours as they were usually the leftovers from the previous day and new forms would take time to arrive.

      Without wasting one more second Raj started filling up the form in the most traditional manner – horizontally. For the myth was this way it takes comparatively less time to fill in the complete form. Raj was third in the row to submit the forms and confirm the payment. Before him was the guy wearing a black sports jacket and spiked hair and the luckiest guy standing first in the long-misshaped line was a boy with wide face with little pimples on it.

         A couple of moments later a pregnant woman took a seat across the table. She had a long face, dark brown eyes with its borders sketched with a black mascara, and a lipstick with a slightly darker shade of pink masked on her curvy lips.

        Her periodic sighs made Raj believe that this was not a pleasant morning for her. Despite her maybe-bad mood, she was working like a younger sister of a supercomputer. Ten minutes later Raj, with his blurred thoughts, was facing the woman. The woman, without looking away from the computer screen, raised her palm and gestured to hand over the receipts. He did the same.

          The moment when Raj heard the tapping of keys everything and everyone else in that room, except the tapping, went mute. With every digit that was entered his heartbeats raised twice the previous rate. He could hear his heavy breath and the big lump of saliva which he gulped out of nervousness. His physical condition was almost similar to one’s condition before a physics viva. In this technological and crowded era, where to be the first one could kill the other, a slight mistake or misplacement would increase the chances of been thrown out of the war by thousand folds. And everyone, except the pregnant lady, was haunted by this thought.

        A few taps later the woman confirmed one payment and handed over the student-copy of the receipt to Raj. He received it like a medal of victory. He was just one step away to get out of this war-zone and one step closer to enter the next zone. His nervousness faded away and with a smile as wide as a crescent moon he waited to receive the second confirmation receipt. His eyes reflected brightly. He looked back towards the long misshaped line behind him and with a smirk whispered,

‘Ha, Losers’

        While Raj was busy pre-celebrating his victory with his dramatic mischief the woman was done with the second receipt. She handed over the original copy and said in a robotic manner,

‘We haven’t received your semester payment. It’s not showing here in the system. Please check with the bank from where this payment was initiated. N  E  X  T’

        Raj was dumbfounded. The woman’s words hit him like a meteor hitting a small planet. Just a few seconds ago he was one step away from getting out of here. Now he realized he was thrown miles away from where he had to come all the way walking to the same place and start over again.

       He looked back at the line with saddened eyes and jealous heart. His pride had backfired upon him. He could hear hollow echoes drumming into his head,

‘Who’s the loser now?.. ’, the whispers became more terrifying

‘Y O U A R E T H E L O S E R….’, Raj grabbed the receipts from the woman’s hand and clasped them tightly. And like a failed warrior he walked out of the room. Not for a single second did he dare to look around into the eyes of the people standing back of the line, not even once did he ask the woman to recheck. He accepted the fact that he had failed halfway through his mission.

        As he stepped out of the room the mild heat now pierced like sharp needles into his body. He had no other option but to walk all those miles and come back. He felt his feet buried three feet more under the heap of paperwork. With an exasperation blow, he picked up his phone and called his father.

        His father received the call almost at the last ring. Raj’s anxiety had reached at the highest possible point until then. Words sputtered out of his mouth like flood water escaping after busting a dam.

‘They say they haven’t received the semester payment. How is it possible? Didn’t the bank initiate the transaction? What should I do?’, his lips trembled as he spoke.

‘Calm down Raj. What’s wrong? Tell me. Calmly’, replied his father.

‘The woman here says that their is no information regarding my semester fee payment. I think they didn’t receive it. I think the bank from which we paid did not initiate the payment at all. You have to go and check right now!’

‘Ok Ok. Don’t worry. I’ll go and sort this out. I’ll call you’

              Raj took a deep breath and thought what he can do in the meantime.

        The next step, independent of the bank-war-zone, was to fight in the colored-receipts-zone. This was the zone where every student, regardless of confirming the mess payment, had to double confirm it and acquire three different receipts. To make things a little interesting administration had introduced three different color receipts which apparently made the whole scenario astonishingly colorful as a rainbow.

       Raj marched towards the colored-receipt-zone with a pale face where another adventure was waiting anxiously for him.
Standing in long queues had become an essential part of daily routine in every Indian’s life after the November currency apocalypse.
Raj had already entered the colored-receipts-zone and just when he was about to enter into the office his phone rang.

‘Yes dad’, he answered.

             What he heard next shook the ground beneath his feet and he felt himself drowning two more feet into the heap of paperwork.

‘I checked with the bank here. They say payment has been initiated and your bank has already received the payment. There’s definitely something wrong with the bank or that woman’, replied his father.

        Raj felt like standing on a tiny piece of land surrounded by deep waters. He had to rush to the bank and sort the fees problem but he also was the next person to enter the office and double confirm the mess payment. Time, for the first time, ran like a horse in a race. He could hear the tick-tick of the watch, scribbling of the tip of a pen over the colored forms and chatter of the crowd. He had the decision to make and he had to make it right now. But just then……..

T O   B E   C O N T I N U E D . . . .

Sunset and Silhouette

Sunset and Silhouette

Sunset and Silhouette on Brainwork

 

Their legs hung down the cliff as they sat on its edge gazing at the marvelous never ending sky which was slowly pulling the orange blanket over its blue body. The mild breeze gushed through her hair strands making them dance on its rhythm and then rest on her shoulders. Like an ultra slow-motion movie the sun was descending down to take a dip in the ocean. The tangerine shade which spread across the vast ocean made her skin glow and her watery eyes twinkle.

They both sat there with only the whooshing wind to fill the silence engulfing them. His eyes constantly toyed between the nature’s beauty and a human one. They settled on hers as even the nature complimented it. She looked at him and playfully raised her eyebrows, a gesture to ask the reason for his stare. Words melted into silence and a smile. With a tinge of blush he looked down the cliff where the waves from ocean gently touched the beach and disappeared back. This was the most memorable and alluring sunset for both the hearts.

The temperature was cooling down and the sky was changing from tangerine to cinnabar as the sun approached its horizon. The never-ending evening would soon come to an end. It was a sudden impulse, of that magnificent view on the nature’s canvas, in which he curled up her hand into his and asked,

‘See that?’

‘What?’, she replied in a mild tone

The Sun was a few inches above the horizon when he pulled her close and whispered in her ear,

‘Look at the sun how it kisses the horizon, everyday, like they’re kissing for the first time and would keep doing it till eternity’

‘Its beautiful, isn’t it?’, she replied this time looking into his eyes.

Pulling himself close to her with a deep breath he whispered again,

‘You are my horizon and I wish to do the same till we are seventy’

She giggled, he smiled and the silhouettes of the couple over the huge orange ball put an end to the perfect evening.

#brainworkshorts
#hp

A Hundred Deaths

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A Hundred Deaths – Brainwork

I’ve been dying,
a hundred deaths.
Everyday,
in a hundred different ways.

There’s no savior,
for me to protect.
You were the one,
before you turned into a foe.

Now, with your every breath,
My Life drains away.
And until the last bit of it to drain,
I will stand firm,
And won’t refrain.

Life – a circle.
You – the starting point.
Ah! it began with you.
And, Oh! it ends with you.

It’s a vicious circle,
with memories in its pile.
And it’s now that I realized,
Memories are vile.

But it’s okay,
Don’t you regret
At least
I am dying a hundred deaths.
You haven’t even started living yet.

#100
#deaths
#hp

Superhumans and Developments

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It was a normal night before everything was going to change. The bushes were not trimmed, lawn wasn’t mowed. Everything was normal. Totally normal. But then, the next day’s rising sun brought a bunch of changes along. Now everything wasn’t normal. It was changed. No I wasn’t dreaming, and I am damn sure of that.

So, our campus is huge and demands maintenance from time to time (or at least on special occasions). And the authorities stand up for their responsibilities so well that superhuman powers arise inside them just overnight. While rendition of their decorative work is appreciable (no doubt there) it opens up a funny (but real) portal for discussion/commentary.

Most of the times, I personally have observed, that on the visit of some unknown so-called VIP personality, a dedication-for-work feeling and this-must-be-done-in-these-much-hours commitment arises in the government related higher authorities and also in the people who work under them.

Conversation:

Higher authority person (A) to his work force (B-Z):

A: We need to construct a 10kms road in four hours

B-Z: (with a pan in his mouth) ho jaega sir! (it will be done)

A: We need to plant trees on the sideways so that our minister can feel the calmness by looking at them (while travelling in his AC car?)

B-Z: (a pan in his mouth) ho jaega sir! Truck bhar ped mangvata hu! (consider it done, I will call in a truck full of trees)

A: We need to tell the residents they cannot walk (in their own area) while minister is visiting them, for ‘security reasons’.

B-Z: (spitting the pan) hanji! Ye to sir dekhiye bahut jaruri hai.. pata chala ghumte ghumte ekkhad londe ne goli mar di minister saab ko to! Abhi e-mail bhijwata hu sir.. ghumna firna band do din k liye..

(NOTE: Guys please! He is just a minister! And he is VIP! Don’t hurt him. Let him enjoy his stay in your area even if it’s on the cost of your freedom. Please don’t get out of your rooms or else they will arrest you considering an attacker or maybe terrorist! After all your overgrown beard, unwashed hair, and always sleepy eyes determine your…. You know what I mean, eh!)

Coming back to the point! Ok what was the point?

Yeah! Decoration of roads, plantation and even if it comes to build a 50 storey building, it is important!

WHY?

…………..     Because planting trees is a good act! And it isn’t for the VIP, obviously.

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Look at this picture. It’s the proof that planting trees is the most generous and essential act. 🙂

So what there are just two, and are looking like they arose out of nowhere, and nearly resemble the meeting of two lost brothers (yep that movie!). They still look beautiful and, shut up, they are trees. Respect.

Yeah I know there was nothing but overgrown grass in this square just the night before. But, come on who cares! We got two goddamn palm (?) trees right in the center of our hostels. And there’s one more somewhere, maybe two.

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And the trees have been planted for a special occasion. Because the authorities, too, know that for (un)bearded, unhygienic students grass is enough for their survival. 😐

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Because everyone should be on one level

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This is my turn to prove my earlier statement that overgrown beard and hair is a big NO for governmental authorities. I mean these guys don’t even like a bush spreading its branches in a way that makes it look like an attacker, I mean, ugly. Oops.

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Just look at the picture guys. Do I need say more? The dedication that was put in to trim and add splendid beauty to campus is just appreciable. (BTW the guy who was trimming the bushes had an overgrown beard and was thrown out from his job when the higher-higher authorities caught his live image from the satellite which is sent out in space especially for the purpose of catching the people who don’t follow by the rules of Big Brother) They are watching you too!! (Yep just exactly like that novel!)

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Oh! This stripes! Brings memories..

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These stripes bring all those memories from childhood, don’t they? Walking with parents, holding their hand, and then on the zebra-crossing thinking that we are safe on these black and white stripes. But we were just children then and weren’t aware that for bikers and car drivers here the stripes are like a finish-line and instead of decreasing the pace they do the exact opposite.

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Well I guess just to avoid this issue they have painted only the sideways and that too only till what looks in the picture. Nowhere else these stripes can be found except the area in the picture. Peace.

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No, this isn’t because we will have a visitor, obviously. Nope. Absolutely not. It’s been done because Winter is Coming.

Next segment is pretty cool. Because we have customized our Winterfell (Yep that’s what I call it. And you very well know why!)

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The only person who was the happiest was the guard whose table and chair you can see in one of the picture. When asked why he was so happy he said, “Finally my loneliness has come to an end”

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“I used to sit in this chair staring at the blank walls all the time but now with the blessings of minister I have so many pictures to share my time with. Now I don’t feel lonely”

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“Also I like these touch screen things very much. Can you teach me how to turn on the computer and use this thing?”

I said, “Uncle, there are seven floors in this library. Of which six floors has this thing and half of them don’t work! Most of the time I found this damn thing locked and we don’t know the password. Even the hint to unlock this thing is useless”

He looked at me for some time, disappointed. Then I said, “I can teach you how to operate my phone. It is touch screen too”

The Globe:

I don’t know what the purpose of putting this globe here is, but it feels nice. The moment you enter Winterfell you will see this globe standing upright, with absolutely no idea what it is proud of. I see a ray of hope when I look at it. And for people like me who dream of travelling to foreign countries and then have a look at bank balance, which is merely few bucks, this egoistic light shining globe is the last hope.

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Now comes the most important and final part of this article:

Introducing the Official MAP!

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Inspired from the local map boards around Chandigarh this map gives you the detailed information about the campus. And I must say that this is the most important step taken by the authority. Because we have a huge campus spread on 125 acres of land. And anyone could easily get lost in such a big place, of course!

I myself have lost my ways 4-5 times and I had to spend the night walking on the empty roads which by the way felt haunted because of the overgrown trees everywhere. But now all the unwanted trees are gone and there’s always this map to guide.

Go and check it out people it’s really cool and don’t forget to take a selfie with map because that’s what we do! Upload your selfies with the hashtag “#mysaviormap” and stand a chance to win…. I don’t know this is not a contest and I just have few bucks left for godsake!

——–

Being said that there might be some things that I have missed. If you can spot them out do share.

I think I should have put the ‘before’ photos too. That would have made things much clearer. But not my fault guys, the only way we come to know someone ‘important’ is visiting is when we look at the startling development that happens overnight. Peace.

AND NOW THE NOTICE AND REQUEST:

This request is of utter importance:

This is my humble request to every student that at least on the ‘show-day’ take a nice long bath, wear washed clothes, comb your hair (trim them if necessary), spray deo on your body because I am pretty sure that our VIP won’t like to seat in the vicinity of un-clean and unhygienic people. And this may get us a flow of money from government. Because everything done here is done for a purpose! Peace.

 

On a serious Note:

The purpose of writing this article is not to attack on the system or the authorities but to ask the question “Why?”

Why the so-called developments, decorations and show-off things are put in motion only when a VIP member, minister or any government authority is to visit? And, why not on regular basis?

And the answer to this is:

= ‘bhai dekho ab….. aisa hi hai.. India me aisa hi hota hai’

If anyone feels hurt after reading this post, please go and click a selfie with the map you will definitely feel good. And don’t forget to upload it with #mysaviormap.

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————————————————————————–

Jai Hind 😛

Over n out comrades!

 

 

Smile?.. Absent..

Smile?.. Absent..

Smile?.. Absent..

Strolling this morning,
I stood beneath a tree.
No dancing leaves,
No swaying branches,
mysterious it occurred to me.

The sky was empty,
Not a single bird flew.
Silence gushed everywhere,
Like a city in curfew.

The life disappeared
from trees,
from birds.
And for a human,
quest appeared.

As I walked pass the road,
I flung down a rock.
I saw her sitting,
on a bench in the garden,
which was just the next block.

Like a solved mathematical problem,
Now every twist I understood.
Answer to the dullness today,
Sat on the bench,
under the red hood.

She had silkiest the hair,
But today,
Not a strand ruffled.
Her eyes were gleamy,
But today,
they welled.
She had the happiest smile,
in the world of obsessed,
But today,
under that smile,
She was depressed.

—————-

#night poetry
#dedicated
#truth

Grays and Blacks

Grays and Blacks

Grays and Blacks

It was a wonderful day with an occasional cool breeze bawling through the trees. I was wandering onto the yellow lawn inside the park looking for food. This is the best place where I could easily find food to eat. There are lots of crunchy things in yellow packets lying on the lawn, and sometimes yellow leaf stuffed under a soft brown thing wrapped with grey paper. People tend to throw away the leftover food after their tummy is full. Anyways, it was a happy day for me.

Just beneath a dark yellow bench I saw a grey thing with yellow leaf stuffed inside it, peeking through the wrapped paper. A salivating urge to eat it rushed through me. People throw the leftover with the expectation of someone else to pick it up and discard it in bin on their behalf. Unfortunately everyone thinks the same way and eventually I have to eat it. And I am happy for that. Because I was hungry and all I wanted was to eat that piece. I ran under the bench and scratched the grey paper to uncover the crumb and leaf. The leaves were juicy and tasted minty. I was lost in the paradise of taste and rest of the world blurred.

After a few moments a small screeching and indistinct cry brought me back to the real world from paradise. I looked up with magnified eyes to find out where the voice was coming from. A part of leaf was hanging out from my mouth as I stood there undistracted.

An old man was sitting under a big yellowish tree and the voice seemed to come from him. But before that let me tell you something strange about the big yellowish tree. It has a lot of leaves (which I can’t eat because I am too small) and the tree is full of grey balls which hide behind the leaves. People eat those grey things and I think they are tasty. I have never tasted them. Once, a lady threw the leftover ball on the lawn. That must be the happiest day in my life, I thought. But the leftover grey ball hardly had anything left on it.

This another time a young boy fooled me. He was sitting on one of the benches with a hard book lying on his lap. He held the book quite unusually, in a way that the lines in the book would stand vertical rather than horizontal. And only half of the book lied on his lap, the other half was open and the boy was continuously staring at it. There was also flashy light with people singing and dancing inside the book and that must be what the boy was staring at. I stood in front of the boy and I could see the book’s cover from this side. Suddenly, the same salivating urge rushed through my mouth as I saw it. On the cover of the book the same grey ball, like on the tree, laid – resting. And unlike the lady, who left nothing on the leftover, only one bite was missing from this ball. A bright white light reflected through the ball as if it was calling me. I hopped on my legs and jumped on the cover to grab the ball. Nothing! Although I was able to lick it only once yet it tasted nothing! Just nothing! Or maybe little like dust. The grey ball stood there sitting still on the cover not moving an inch. The boy ran, scared because I jumped on him. He left his grey hat on the bench.

I looked at the old man again. And I moved closer to him. I could hear his heavy breath which included lots of huffs and pauses. As I moved closer I saw his eyes were tightly shut like someone does so as to control some physical pain. I never did that. His old loose skin hung on his old bones forming series of uneven lines on his forehead and cheeks. The lines descended downwards like the liquid flowing down when put on a glass window. He wore a grey jacket and t-shirt and, between his fingers, he held a picture of a small girl. She was adorably cute with a grey bow on her head and a yellow sweater on her body. I wished to ask him what was wrong and why was he crying. But he sobbed and sobbed.

I rubbed my head on his arm and he gave me a saddened pat on my back with his trembling, old, worn out hands. Finally, after few minutes of patting, he muttered, gathering his breath,

“She was the reason I smiled and laughed. We played on this very bench.”

Tears again filled up his eyes and a few moments later he whispered,

“She turned six today..… would’ve”

He ruffled my hair and started leaving the park. He struggled to walk and used a stick for support. I could feel the pain behind his tears that had sucked all the liveliness out of his life. Without her this world was gray and black for him, just like me. I ran towards him with my tiny legs sinking in the grass. I started hopping and circling around him. Still he didn’t notice. Humans are stubborn, I thought. So am I.

I ran again and this time grabbed his trouser. He stopped and turned. His old eyes stared at me and he knelt so as to look into my eyes, closely. His breath had eased now and with a sigh he started speaking,

“Pal, you are a good doggie. I like you very much, just the way I liked my granddaughter. And that’s exactly the reason I won’t take you with me. I loved her till eternity”,  he paused to gather some breath and spoke again,

“Now that she’s gone, vanished into thin air, I feel the pain of being alone. If I keep you close you too will love me like I loved her, maybe even more. I am old now. Any day could be my last one” , ruffling my hair he added,

“I don’t want you to go through the pain that I am in now, pal. I am sorry.”

The old man stood up and left with his struggling walk and welling eyes. He didn’t want happiness in his life anymore.

As I stood there looking at his frame, disappearing with every step he took, suddenly, I felt a pair of soft hands on my belly. As my feet left the ground I realized that I was being lifted up. I couldn’t see who it was but the soft female voice assured me that it was a small girl. She held me close to her this time looking into my eyes. She was an adorable little girl. She had a grey bow on her head and a yellow sweater on her body. Kissing me, she screamed joyfully,

“Moommyy.…I wanna take him home.. I will name him braawniee..”

—————————–The End——————————-

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One day, may be?

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One day, maybe, we shall fly again. Forget the catastrophe that set us all apart. The sun will smile down upon us and the night will no more be an asylum. Smiles will no more be a disguise and sadness will no more hide behind the mask. Eyes will gleam again with an undying hope. Lies will hide beneath the ground never to return. Trust shall bloom again in the garden of love.

One day we shall dance in the rain and with every falling drop we shall drain all our sins that brought sadness into this world. We shall tap our feet and roll like a child on silly songs just like old times. Broken hearts would be mended and pieces of love would be fixed. We shall spend our time in the park, sitting on a bench greeting the joggers and listening to the chirping birds. Coffee would be our heaven and books would be our angels.

A simple ‘hi’ would build a lifelong connection. ‘Strangers’ would be an ancient word. He will find her and she will find him.
The only question that remains is,
Are we, the humans (creator of chaos), ready to live in such a perfect world?

#optimisticfuture
#onedaymaybe
#brainwork

Roads

Roads

Roads

So?

How is it going, since we parted our ways (or at least I think we did).

Is it good out there or scary like a nightmare?

Hardly got any time for goodbye’s and we just shut up. I wander in the conundrum, in permutations and combinations of the things that might have gone wrong or just about our assumptions. Assumptions are like an invisible knife that slices the connecting thread smoothly.

But in the mist of finding that one reason I have lost in the labyrinth which I thought could fix up the broken parts.

It was like standing at the beginning of the road which split into two like a fork, each way leading to some unknown destination. And we just stood there, let silence speak for us, eyes decide the ways we will be headed, mind engulfed by the past and heart sitting back helplessly in the chest like a prisoner in a jail.

Did the words burn or were our eyes on fire?

Like a zombie, we didn’t even realize what were we doing and when did we start walking away. I took the left road and you took the right one. Now I think about what you might be thinking. Are you thinking like me? Or the zombie inside you hasn’t woken up yet?

I think, after walking so long, should I head back to where we started, where I might find you waiting for me (or maybe not). Or should I keep walking forward in the hope that my left road will eventually meet your right one?

Shouting and calling for you won’t help either. For my voice is turned to ashes with the words that burnt away.

I assumed that you were awake. I assumed that you would stop and pull me back. Assumptions are like an invisible knife that slices the connecting thread smoothly.

Satisfaction is lost somewhere between confusion and regrets.
Love is lost somewhere between ego and decisions.
We have lost each other somewhere between the right road and the left one.

#roads
#destinyanddestinations