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.

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 . . . .

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!

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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

The youngest smile

Look into her eyes,
What do you see?
A mischievous little child,
Or the eyes full with dreary?

She’s crazy young girl,
Hopping from sofa to bed.
One with a bubbly smile,
Unaware, what might lie ahead.

She’s hesitantly candid,
And a secretive cotton ball.
When she misses her loved ones,
She cries and muffles behind the wall.

In her world of fantasies,
She giggles and she whoops.
Though there are no fairies,
Yet she fulfills the loop.

Her eyes were wet,
And her voice was sore.
She sat in a corner,
Cards lay desperately beside her.

Neither did I ask anything,
Nor did I say.
I patiently sat by her side,
And waited, until,
She asked me to play.

Then she picked up the deck,
And brushed back her hair.
Silence filled the room,
As she wiped her tears.

After a game or two,
Which, of course, she won.
She smiled and bellowed,
And the silence was gone.

When her eyes were clear,
And her nose seemed dry.
I held her in my arms,
And asked why did she cry.

Hearing her reply,
Bewilderment grasped me.
Innocence in those words,
Shun like the stars when she said,

“It’s been four days
The sky has,too, turned brown.
No chocolate no pastries,
Mama’s out of town“​

#brainwork

Old Photographs

a happy boy

Old Photographs

Interweaved in my own thoughts I didn’t even realize the gentle smile that appeared on my face. Sliding through the old photographs, the old memories, those prestigious moments captured just in one click, I was lost in them. Smiling, laughing, mimicking and posing in every possible posture; old photographs indeed have the potential to speak silently, whisper softly and pull the tear out of your eyes gently.

Digital or physical, old photographs sit there quietly, waiting for you to visit them when you miss your past. They wait for you, humbly, to slowly brush your fingers on them. At that moment you aren’t looking at a flat-colored-photographic-sheet which you can tear in parts but you are visiting your past where everything, but the real you, is alive. Time travel happens when you shuffle through your old photographs. You find yourself surrounded with those sweet unforgettable memories. You look at yourself, still like a statue yet full of life! And then wonder where did we lose the life? Maybe somewhere between those old photographs and you sitting and staring at them?

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For a Mother, on her day

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Mother’s love

Beyond the limit of ocean and sky, with an immeasurable quantity just like our universe, a waterfall – of love, is pouring. Neither from the top of a cliff nor from the parts of any mountain but it’s flowing all the way down from the core of a heart. A heart that doesn’t even beat for the body which owns it; rather, it beats for the bodies and souls of those produced by its owner. This is a heart made with a special care. Or I may say that God himself takes up the responsibility of creating this heart and filling it with unlimited love. This is the heart that resides beneath the breast whose milk gave you the power and energy to survive when you could hardly breathe, when you could hardly see. Salute to the heart of a woman who created you, nurtured you, who taught you, who fought for you! It is a heart of a Mother.

Remember? In our childhood, when school almost felt like a jail to us and every day we tried to find some reason to avoid school? Sometimes we did succeed to get a day off but other times we had to face the truth that our lie was caught. It was our mother who always knew about our lies still sometimes acted as she didn’t know what the truth was; just for our sake. Those were the golden days and somewhere between the lies and our fast-moving-life that every moment has become like an antique piece. We passed from school, moved into college, most of us far away from home and much farther from our mother.

There is a very bold reason behind the last line, written in italics, of the previous paragraph. I have seen, I have observed something which once was a part of our lives and now makes us feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. The area we live in majorly affects our lifestyle; positively as well as negatively. But, sometimes a positive thing in one region could be a negative in the other. Just take a little example, today’s youth when they visit their home after a long time, act like a totally different person. The one from a higher class. And when mother, who is by the way same person as she was since her ‘so-called higher-class’ child’s birth, takes him/her to the market and she couldn’t resist but bargain, as usual, even for a 20 rupees vegetable. And, surprisingly, the child who once enjoyed the bargain-fight between mother and the vendor now feels embarrassed due to the same reason.

In this express life, in this technological era where a day without food is acceptable, but, a day without phone and chatting feels like someone has put a pillow on your face and you can hardly breath. We have lost the essence of that sacred love in this express life. Our mother, she might not want to talk much, but she definitely wishes to know what’s going on in our life. For she is the best face reader in the whole universe who can guess something is wrong when she notices creases on your forehead, or something is cooking when she witnesses the appearance of a gentle smile on your face while texting. But, we are too busy, sometimes with our phone and other times- well with our phones!

Trust me, it’s totally normal if you talk to your mother instead of chatting because that is what we do rest of the time, don’t we? Go on a walk with her. Because she is the only woman, who loves you despite of all of your shortcomings and without any expectations.

For guys, I would like to say, treat your mother with the same respect you treat the girl you like the most and make promises even to die for her (‘_’).
And for girls, just remember one thing – Never make your mother feel like an empty mirror. For you are a reflection of her.

 

#happymothersday
#dedicatedtomymother

Those 10 days

those 10 days

Those 10 days poetry

Downfalls, begin with misunderstandings.
Our, too, began with the same.
Those 10 days were the dark days,
When all we did was to blame.

Remember, you and I sat under that tree?
And how It’s shadow fell on us?
Like the leaves of a lotus
It dazzled your beauty.

During those 10 days,
I sat, under that same tree.
This time, It’s shadow fell on me,
Like your old memory.

It was a hard time indeed,
when I was in the dark.
Someone planted a bad seed,
And you left quickly like a spark.

I heard, that you heard,
From someone, about me.
The news broke my heart,
Those ‘Just‘ 10 days then became an eternity.

I was trying you know,
As hard as I could.
I was trying to know,
What you knew that I, too, should.

When will we learn,
To rise from our mistakes.
Otherwise, it is going to burn,
And it’s the love that is at stake.

Oh! those 10 days,
When no words were said.
Still you spoke so many things,
With your profile and status updates.

Then, finally, those days ended,
And we buried all the downfalls.
The most amazing thing that happened,
That I revealed the secret after all.

But, Few days ago, you told me to wait,
And I am with patience,
Which by the way I lack.
Now it’s getting too late,
Fear is taking hold in the silence,
Coz I feel those 10 days are coming back.

#elaichipost

SHE

Women Blog

When I was a child I was often asked a question which was difficult to answer. The question was, ‘Whom do you like the most father or mother?’. My reply would generally be like ‘I like them both equally …’ and I would shut myself because that was an ultimately difficult question. And I am sure that most of us have faced the same problem sometimes  at least once in life!

That soft voice, that gentle touch, those gleaming eyes which have the potential to hide all the problems behind their tears, and those magical hands which every time when she cooks leaves you surprised. She is not just a woman but a standalone force of the family. She holds immense love in her heart along with huge courage of facing the hard times. She struggles, she manages, and she has an extraordinary power that puts a smile on all those faces without even saying a single word. She stays back at home and plans the future of her family, she goes for a job and plans a future for her family. Not a single time she thinks of herself but the family. All the love seems like pouring from a flooded river and all the positivity seems to enter the soul when she touches my cheek and tousles my hair. I can’t stop myself from looking back, to see her, standing there at the door, still waving her hand and saying, ‘Come back home soon, I will make your favorite sabzi today’. I wave my hand in return, I turn my face, I struggle hard to stop the tear that is about to roll on my face and I thank god for this precious gift he has bestowed upon me for my entire life. She is an inspiration, she is courage. She is a Mother.

There are times when you feel low, you need to talk to someone yet there’s no one you can find. You try to isolate yourself and lock yourself in your room. And even if you go in public you try to put on a fake smile to manipulate every eye. But, there are still some eyes that catch you in a glimpse. I sat on the stairs, my face buried in my knees and arms covering my ears and face. So tensed and so depressed, it was like the balloon of stress will burst any time inside my head. Then I felt something, a hand rolled swiftly on my hairs. It was so nice, it was so gentle. It was like the hand was sweeping the stress little by little from my head. I felt so calm. Then she spoke, ‘Oye hero, get up, let’s go on a stroll, let’s buy an ice-cream, let’s talk about your heroine..’ and then she laughed, loudly. She kept on laughing and patting me on my back. I smiled under my knees. I got up and saw her smiling face; she is an idiot I thought. She was still laughing. I punched her and hopped down the stairs. She did the same and said, ‘Hero, get ready for an adventure’. She is crazy, yet understanding. She is a guardian for every one of us and guards us against the problems. She is a fantastic person that everyone has. She is a Sister.

Some random day, when you are sitting in the canteen, taking a sip of hot tea. And your eyes peek up from the cup, you see someone and the next thing happens is; you are completely stunned. You can’t move your eyes unless the hot tea burns your tongue. But those two seconds, when your eyes witnessed something marvelously beautiful, come to a halt like a movie has been paused. Everything, except your eyes and her, stops and those two seconds seems like an eternity. You stop sipping the tea until she is there standing at the counter, you can’t afford to waste those precious moments. You know that she doesn’t even know your existence, yet some force strikes your heart and eyes and try to find a connection. Days, weeks, months pass, one day you talk to her. And things get moving on. She cares for you like a mother cares for her child, she loves you till infinity. The burden of problems gets lighter because she is the one strong and firm supporter. You feel crazy, you feel happy around her. You believe in yourself, you start being yourself because she makes you realize your potential. She is not just a woman, she is the one who helps you find yourself and achieve great heights of success. She is a Best friend, she is a girlfriend. Not everyone is lucky to have her but those who have her are among the happiest and the luckiest.

A single 1000 words article about women seems so mediocre, to describe her excellence and her love and her position in our life, but this is the least I can do to show my affection towards her ever kind nature.

Without the support of these three women, life is like a boat in the middle of the ocean with no directions to go.

#HappyWomen’sDay

#DedicatedtomyMother:)

MAD WORLD

Piano tiles

Conversation with a writer is like reading a book. A book written by them about themselves. The listener has to be very careful while these people speak. Because metaphorical language is what these people have fallen in love with. And often they drop some hints about the problems that are crouching in the shadows of their life.

Unexpected things happen from unexpected people that open a whole new world for exploration. A Pen and paper or a keyboard and screen are the best friends of a writer. The one which they trust beyond the limit. But what should one do about this unstable mind and wandering heart? There are times when even best friends are helpless. And yet we are not alone, are we? There’s always a helping hand. And for us, it’s of our other close friend, Music.

As I mentioned earlier about the whole new world of exploration; I found it too. Few days ago in a conversation with a beautiful and young girl, who happens to be a brilliant writer too, I realized how strongly music could connect to our personal lives. Few lines could change your perspective about something.

‘Most of the things we write, tend to be about things that make us sad too. Why is that? Way to escape it or to express? Could be both. Or just maybe to accept some things’, she quoted.

I could not deny the truth these lines hold. No life is a simple one. A Happy life is a myth. We are fooling ourselves by saying everything will be alright as before. It’s not possible even in a parallel universe. Because once the damages are done they could only be repaired. You never end up where you thought you wanted to be. That’s life.

A five-minute song could sum up your whole state of vexation. And we gaily accept to lose ourselves in the musical cosmos. There are times when we are in despair; there is so much to let out, but no one to take that in. Maybe, there is someone who would like to listen to us, but then we are the people who easily trust the words. And that happens to be the exact reason that we don’t open up easily. We are afraid of being stabbed by our words. This is where we chose to put the earphones on and hit the play button. Because it is the world where there is no one to judge. The world where we speak to ourselves in the form of music.

And sometimes a social media platform comes in as a lifesaver. It’s only after we put the chaotic thoughts into meaningful sentences when our disconsolate mind finds some peace. And again the one who came to the rescue of this lost soul are the words. So let it be in the form of our thoughts by writing them down or in the form of others’ thoughts through the songs, they are the words who support and rebuild us.

These are some beautiful lines from one of my favorite songs:

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places, worn out faces.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had

I find it hard to tell you,

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it’s a very, very Mad world..

The question left behind to haunt us all of our lives is, Are music and paper the only places where we could find peace? Or is there still some place exists where we could dare to trust again and where someone could try to understand just for once than to be understood?

#everythingisJust