Guest Entry!!

This is not written by me. This is written by my friend for someone.
I have promised not to reveal my friend's identity.
Please go through it.



DEDICATION
===============
An effort to incarnate my feelings into a poem
=====================================
Just trying to give my feelings a better shape
=====================================


Feelings are great, immense and indispensable. Don’t know from where i should start.

How did i get these memories?

You were so stranger to me,
eventually you came nearer to me.

You were in each thought i had,
My feelings were growing stronger,
with every move u made.

You were the miracle in my life,
you had such a beautiful smile,
you made my life worth-while.

you touched my heart and soul,
with your such a beautiful accepting nature,
which earlier i never thought,
But you made it true, just at the right spot.

You were everything i wanted,
your nature, liveliness, sense of humour, understanding were few to mention,
every step we grew towards each other with right perception..

life was incomplete without someone,
but as u stepped in eventually it seemed to be the concluded one.

Seconds, minutes, hours and days were so short whenever we used to talk,
Always felt like sharing every joy and sorrow whenever, wherever in life we would walk,
But never imagined wat is waiting ahead for me is a biggest shock.

Just when we think things getting better, it gets worse. That even before we actually know it.

Good things never comes cheap,
This bitter truth made me creep.


Though the period we spent together was small,
But every moment was cherishable and makes me to re-call.

The day we talked for the last time, never can i forget,
But who knew it would be the last day, which made me not even a single thing to neglect.

Time never waits for anybody, and the day came when i was informed u left me.
My heart was shattered and fell into pieces,
As if somebody had stabbed a knife into my heart,
you jst left my heart in stitches, [s-t-i-t-c-h-e-s]

i couldn’t believe u left me.
my heart was crying like anything,
as if i have been left with nothing.

i got so crazy and panicky,
my mind was not with me,
first time ever i felt so restless,
that too doubtless.

Tears bursted like anything,
Pain was still great within,
But than i made a promise not to cry,
as i cared for you, cant c u sad and make your heart dry.

It’s been 3 months to you,
but still your thoughts are younger within me,
Though it’s a bitter reality, hard to believe,
But no words, no feelings can make me relieve.

Words are less but feelings are irrepressible,
Still i don’t know what/who can make my life feasible.

How can i just sit and wait for you in our next life.
But the saddest thing is i am helpless.
Never thought ill be in such a condition,
which will make my life stuck without any stable position.

So bad was my fate which dint let me see you in last moments,
i could only know how those days, that whole month was for me,
as if somebody is left in a desert without water and only heat.

Though i am a firm God believer,
Still don’t know whom to blame, myself or God?
who atleast gave me the chance to feel you,
But than himself pushed me under this deep haunting lieu.

Or may be i have been paid for some of my bad deeds,
which i couldn’t even think in my dreams.
Still very hard to believe that u have left me,
and this bitter reality always twich me.

Always thought whatever God does is right,
But this time hardly i am able to find something and having a big fight.

First time ever i felt this fatal pain of loosing someone u love,
because it’s not just loosing but far above!!!

again i am left with same position,
though the things are altogether different and not alike,
earlier i was looking/waiting but presently i dnt feel like.

Sometimes in anger and much of love felt like blaming you,
how u thought of leaving me without giving our relationship even a single view,
but than i knw very well my dear, even you also dint had any clue,
for whatever happened with us.
as rite now it seems to be a curse.

you might also b feeling the same as i do, for sure,
as v both had carried a loving relationship which was pure,
you are not reachable that’s true,
but my feelings will never gonna be less for you.

All the promises u made,
everything very easily in fractions of minutes got fade,
as if we never met, we never talked,
and the only thing m left with is your thoughts.

never wanted to ruin myself by loosing you,
you were also serious and promised me about this fact,
but than it happened by God's clever act.

Hope time will heal this wound,
but a person incarnation of yours could be perfect and sound,
Let me also see God's game and the limit to which a person can be bound.


first time ever in my life m writing a poem for someone,
jst transforming a lovely relationship into a dedication,
with all my feelings, love and affection.


How should i end this dedication, thts a big question,
i don’t have right words as feelings continue to emerge,
But always pray God to bless you and give your soul a right verge,
Will never forget you for sure and that’s why wrote this inscription.

Relationships...

Suddenly, I realized that last few strands of maggie, soaked in ketchup are lying half wet alongwith peas that I hardly relish. It made me awakened...Where was I??
The song that I started listening on Radio Mirchi was over and RJ Shubhra was blabbering on 9 to 11 pm show - "Purani Jeans". In last five minutes, my mind rushed through all the stages I had in past 10 years.uuuufff...
Truth need not be bet on. After my three months stay miles away from home, I explored myself more and deeper.
What lies beneath and what not is as obvious to me as the two vertical ends - ground and sky.
This I suppose happens with every single person going through same phase as mine. How people looking so mechanical and materialistic become so close and warm within tight slumbers deep inside themselves. A full cup smile with eyes as blank as frog's eyes, the one gesture I hated the most has become a part and parccel of my existence in my surroundings.
Few moths back, I tried not to give loneliness a chance in routine. But now I like to close my eyes and remember sweet evenings at home with my parents, my cutie pie pet Macho and the sun rays finding access from the windows for themselves to brighten our faces with their gentle yellow colour. Closing my eyes make me feel all in all fit into all the bondings cemented at home and office.
A long road flanked by trees...
River besides promising the peace...
Live and chirpy birds around...
Forces me to hear a distant sound...

Mind speaks on behalf of heart..
One true source that generated the thought..
Relationships bowing the leaves of affection...
Both sides of the roads amid congestion..

River flowing on the side..
Jabbers the secrets so low as to confide..
Secret that revels the art so smart..
To heal the infantile heart, one dapple part..

In the attempt to hem the two ends meet...
Stitch the wide vast length to greet..

Hert so bonny to solve the questions..
Why, How, What and when ..no notion..
What to give and what to preserve...
So as to make one bonding reserved..

An Iota of Romance...

As we were driving through the calm, wide, dense but silent roads of Hyderabad, my friend's brother kept on pointing one building then to another. But I was totally lost as it was after nearly two months that I happened to feel and appreciate the nature's beauty. I was missing those mornings when my eyes used to see the beautiful trees and a silent road drenched in orange light across the 5 x 5 feet window opening of my one seater hostel room. The view used to bring immense agility, undefined.
After coming to Pune that same missing factor "an Iota of romance with our Earth so beautiful" brings emptiness.


Counting the inroads of hours..
Cogitating deeply the events parsed...
Realization of carrying rancour...
Sometimes for a second or an hour...
Searching for a missing an Iota of romance..

Silouette of a salubrious gathering..
On one side of the window opening..
The other side fragrance of wet soil..
Breathing and Sustaining the aleviated toil..

Penance of dereliction on that account...
A feeling pirouette...
Why din't mind capture the congenial air..
A deal so lucrative and fair..
To live those moments now we care...
To search an Iota of romance with Nature in the air...

BangaloRED.....!!!!

Life is a strange story and stranger are the people around and we ourselves are the strangest. After completing 20 days in Bangalore I feel Bangalored. Population fits like a glove in the city and I am a part of this population. Bangalore city is full of engineers and technocrats.
My mind is in bistable states these days. I am lost when sitting alone and I find myself back on Earth while walking on the pavements flanked by crowd.
After spending 1 week in Electronic city when we were asked to move to another place where we had to go by local bus, I was the one who was happy. I thought it to be a chance to know Bangalore better. But the agility inside has started muffling. More than 12 hours of day out is enough to challenge my will.
My morning begins with lots of experiments in kitchen and on weekends it goes on whole day. Life has changed its way so fast. In the jampacked buses, I have got one more experience of counting breathing rate of people and not of one but 4-6 at one time. Warm gush of air strikes my cheeks and my shoulders keep on jostling in Bangalore multitude.
God knows what my language will be after few more days. I talk in English whole day and listen Malyalam, Kannad, Telugu, Bengali etc etc. But I'm loving it. All day and at home I listen different languages and try to pick and learn few words.
So, I feel like BANGALORED....

Am I a stranger to myself
A found fairy or a lost elf..

Mind confined in a vacuum...
Questioning and answering so random...
Crowd joins the labyrinths in tandem..

Deafening sounds awake sleeping mind...
One hell of its kind...
Sequence of events to grind...

Whatever comes, heart hails all...
Lost or found in this world so small
Forgetting self and finding it back...
Feel like moments slack....

Oh my God!!! What am I WRITING.....jUST A TRY....

The Prince of Kurukshetra

It was Friday evening when all the News channels in an emulous act kept on focusing their cameras on a 60 feet deep pit in a village in district Kurukshetra. For the first time the name of my city “Kurukshetra” was seen on the news channels for the news other than “Suraj Grahan Mela” and “Geeta Jayanti Utsav”. A boy named Prince had fallen into that deep dark, merely 1 foot wide pit. Listening to the news, one first measures 60 feet by multiplying the wall of the house by 6 then snivels and cogitates about the narrowness of the pit and then about darkness. Mere thought of such situation haunts one’s mind and flashes of the Hollywood movies run through the eyes.
It took 48 hours for the army and medical team to take him out safely. In every news channel one could see the current situation. Our whole nation spent the weekend by sitting in front of TV, discussing the valor of Prince, a 5 years old child. The little boy deserves praise as it was not easy to survive inside that deep hole bored for the purpose of tube well. If a city bred boy was there he could have never been able to survive there because of high temperature, low oxygen, absence of light and fear of animals and insects. Those two days were spent watching interviews of those familiar faces and the video coverage of the hospital campus where we have spent 12 years after papa was posted to Kurukshetra. The first day, I enjoyed watching interviews of doctors who visit our place frequently being family friends.
Next morning, yes we were excited to know that whether the boy was rescued or not. But he was not. Okie.
Gradually, the whole episode that had to be a portion of news became just one news…breaking news, telecasted by all the news channels. The incident which I was comparing with a Hollywood movie scene turned out to be a Bollywood masala “maa kasam” kind of bathos. I agree that it was a news and the little boy was worthy of appreciation that he bagged. But it was not a news to be telecasted whole day whole night forgetting the Lebanon war and political make n’ break ups.
Few days back there was another news that blanketed the news channels; the news of a professor having affairs with his students. The media shew nothing but colossal dunce. Media is said to be a mirror reflecting our society and surroundings. I can now better describe it as an imbecilic spicy show that can attract and hold no other than loggerhead, illiterate and thoughtless portion of the society.

Mera Bachpan Aisa Kyon??

It was scorching summer of 2003 when 12-13 youth wearing white kurtas and blue jeans, were singing with passion on a temporarily made stage outside the reception area of MMEC. They were surrounded by crowd of not more than 100 people because it was not any western dance performance.
Suno suno ek baat suno…
Bade pate ki baat suno…
Bachpan ki un galiyon ki..
Un nanhi nanhi kaliyon ki....
They were performing a street play – “Mera Bachpan Aisa Kyon?” to make people learn that child labor is crime. Acting was good, script was marvelous and not even a single dialogue was spoken amiss. They had worked hard for about 1 week to frame a story, practice dialogues and of course knuckled down a lot for publicity. I too was a part of that play. My role was of a journalist who expostulates politicians for the multi-standard shown by them just to satisfy their bellies with votes and more votes. Before elections, most of the politicians target child laborers to make their vote banks heavy. After elections, blood banks loose level but who cares then.
Everyone congratulated us and appreciated the effort made. So, we guys decided to party in college canteen. What an irony? Just after 15 minutes of presenting a heart warming story of the children working in factories in deplorable conditions, all of us were being served snacks and cold drinks by a 10 year old boy who worked in canteen. I was ashamed and was appalled as nobody was bothered. Everyone was busy in gossiping. While getting back home I talked to my friend Priya who was also in the crew. A distressing feeling that we today truly did what politicians do led to discomfort.
I had made promises with myself that I would teach one poor child or after getting into job I would bring up one orphan. I remember I was so much determined. In fact, I started helping our maid’s daughter by providing her books, dictionary etc. But neither could I make it on nor did she show any interest.
Whenever I see little children, standing on pavements without clothes and food, begging for money I feel like just close my eyes or look at the sky. Giving money to beggars who can earn is itself a sin and I don’t ever do it.
Three years back, my summer training at MTNL, Janpath, was going on and at Shivaji stadium I was waiting for my bus with a co-trainee. To beat the heat, we decided to buy ice cream from the Mc Donald’s take away. But as soon as I opened my mouth to take a bite, I saw a little boy wearing a torn shirt, no foot wears under feet, face so dull with shabby brown-coloured hair, spread his little hands and said, “paisa”. I stopped and my hands started searching my wallet in my bag while my eyes fixed on to his ignoble looks, bleak eyes and sad countenance. But I decided to give him my ice cream. I did not want to be a sinner. Other boy standing with me said that this way you can never eat a toffee in Delhi. No response came out of my long tongue. The happiness of the cherub could be seen from the sanguine hopes that his eyes had regained and from his toothless laughter after getting the ice cream.
That day I held a long communion with my grandmother, discussing why some people are so rich and why some are so poor. In our nation there is such a huge gap between rich and poor. One dies of no food while other dies of hogging.
Animals and little children are my second love, first being my family. Their sufferings just redound to pain to everyone who feel concerned. If not millions, there are atleast thousands on this Earth who truly want to help disabled and orphan children. Hundreds have succeeded in their mission and rest lack resources. Multi-millionaires who spend oodles of money in paying tax can donate a considerable amount to NGOs working assiduously for children. But how many of them are sensible and honest? How many of them think about nation and not just about “me, my and myself”? There is enough in this world for everyone’s need but not enough for everyone’s greed – problem lies here.

Today I eyed a cherub..
A bonny face…
slouching gait with ignoble looks..
two little bleak eyes that really knocks…
those two dimming stars knocked my heart.
standing glum and silent
her eyes so weary,
cheeks so pale,
whole countenance..
telling her childhood’s tale.

Listen if you can..
Its me a poor bairn.
Listen….
I opened my eyes yesterday…..
I saw the birds chirping…
I saw the wind singing….
Clouds drumming….
Trees dancing……
And bees buzzing….

My heart hailed the beauty…..
I joined my fatigued hands……
Prayed for the food and water….
Energy and happiness….
Prosperity and kindness….

I prayed for…
Food to chirp like jovial birds.
Water to quench my dry mouth’s thirst….
Energy to sing like wind…
Prosperity to enable my wrenched mind….
Kindness to make feel other what I do…..

Birds, animals, insects and plants….
All have reasons to sing and dance….
My reasons are confined and diluted…..
Stowed and hidden in pockets of many…
All my entreaties are vain……
Everytime washed in sorrowful rain….

Why God gave me this perdition to suffocate??
Why did he never try my sufferings to alleviate??
What is my sin??
My poverty or their richness??

Black and White

Everytime we get together and our meetings end up by concluding nature and behaviour of a person. We harangue in one group or another and as there is a call of this young age group, one target is set and the person's (target) whole personality is crushed.
All of us expect so much from others that we ourselves fail to measure the expectations. The length of this is known by few and deluge of expectations are set by many. When not fulfilled, you are declared a black shadow.
Why people can't accept the real you? We tramp on this Earth wearing fake smile on our face and feigning fake courteous words for our friends and colleagues. We keep on running in this mad crowd in search of those dark caves. Many of us far transgress to prove our potential to be tolerant, sometimes to save a job and sometimes to keep the bonds of relationships strong and smooth.
A life that asunders our two selves and I feel like living in a multitude of split personalities.
In our hostel magazine my poem "Black and White" has been published. Have a look...

Everything in this world changes
Once people come to know the real you
You become a black shadow...
No white, No grey
Black guzzles all to dismay

Why people run after white?
Just to pull out white and wise from you
Why they never want to face the real you?

You try to blanket yourself
Inside the darker caves....
But how can you mend the ways
With those you have spent so many days...

Scaling heights freely......

29th April was the day of exploring world outside the little window. It was the first time when I went for an offcampus interview for Freescale Motorola. After applying offcampus for the same the idea was not to swim across the English channel like a winner but the never dying temptation to go to Delhi and meet my cousins haha... bad gal. Delhi, the only place where I have spent all my summer vacation.
My elder brother was even more excited and kept on boosting me up to appear sincerely."So what if you couldn't make it on campus..c'mon you can do it",were his words.The same boy who bore my sententious words whenever found playing computer games instead of studying.
One day before the test mamma and I reached Delhi.Next day my uncle,mamma and over burdened Ms reached Express Tower,Noida.The height of the building was not more than the heap of presentiments of questionaire that was to be faced close in time.While at the reception I signed in and saw the list of 108 people, most of them from IITs,NSIT,TIET and BITS, "just run away" were the words that came out effusively and even louder than the whispers of the people around.
Inside that building I was feeling like a cyborg as all the doors were electronically operated and we like robots were crossing those in series.Okie....So, finally we were in the hall. I chose to sit in front of a girl sitting alone and started talking.She was from NSIT. Test was nerve-wrecking as it was on campus."Lady time is up.Stop writing now", alarmed me.Perhaps In all the university exams my paper had never been fully attempted.So, 29th April though a different day was proved not so different in one way. As far as managing time in exams is concerned, I have always been a scape grace :(
There stood mamma smiling" how was the test?"said she."You know my answer" ,I panted.She smiled and said,"pata nahi...yahi naa aur kya".Naren uncle like always said boisterously to mamma,"Didi,lets go for a treat she'll surely get through".Clearing the written test of Motorola was not a thought even beyond the end of my mind. .
Clock struck 2:00 o'clock and the result was displayed.My heart beat was so fast ,I don't know why there was a hope for the hopeless case.Nimisha Saini interview at 5:30 pm....my name was among those 36 people. "Mausa ji, this is next to impossible..clearing this test is a king's play not a jack's hit". He kept on realizing me my strengths and target.The value of relationships and family love is the oxygen of my life as I'm nothing without them. My journey has been so far so good only because of my family and people around me.An sms from my cousin was one of the deciding factors to appear for Motorola after being beaten 2 times on campus.
Though I have two placements in hand but Freescale Motorola is a big name when compared to Wipro and Flextronics.
My brother's phone calls started striking mamma's cell after every 1 hour. So many people around and nobody's cell's ringing frequency was as high as mamma's.Those were the calls from a worried brother who became elder to me in just 2 months after being posted away from Delhi.How distances heal concern and cement the bond was the one more lesson in my account that day.
Other TIET guys,all from B.Tech talking to me like I am the one armed perfectly in the battle field.M.Tech in VLSI was the Brhamastra according to them.
The air around became so stressful as one by one candidates were being called by a girl flinging here and there like a kite.Suddenly,Nimisha Saini..I became so cool just before entering the room. There I saw two men in the mid 30s sitting on the other side of the table.We shook hands,I managed to smile somehow and introduced myself.Now the funny journey began and i tightened the seat belt..my eyes beseeched "leave me I cleared the test by mistake".There was no way out and electronic door was closed.All the stupid and meaningless theories started demanding a valid reason for there existence in those old mildewed books.We were heading towards a journey inside the thick of thin things and this went on for 2 hours. Okie I am ashamed...I don't know this and that...leave me.This was a call from the wretched brain of mine,more looking like a standing jest. Thank God!! it wasn't too bad but not very good.
Getting back to the normal world was so peaceful.By that time a rare feeling of troubling mamma and uncle arrested my heart.It was 8:30 pm.The whole day they just sat on the sofas reading magazine and observing the MNC trends.A bunch of friends from NSIT amused everyone out there.
The hope of getting in never stirred my mind and the same feeling still existed inside.The result was declared dramatically as always and 7 guys were selected. Just 7 of 108!!!
"The day was not wasted,see the exposure you got",were papa's words. "So what if you rejected their offer",said jokingly.This is my papa,always cool.Sympathies and congratulations for clearing the written (atleast) were in my way after getting back to masi's place.
This was true.The day was not wasted.Atleast I stepped out of that long corridor from VLSI lab to HOD's office.Sick of swinging like a pendulum between these two ends the day gave a chance to see outside the window,one side of which is my group of 4,Alpana mam and a journey to Kurukshetra almost every weekend.The other side was scaling height freely and competing with the top rankers.
Last four months have been passed sitting in front of computer, analysing those waveforms and finding a meaningless meaning out of those.That black screen of Tanner EDA tool leaves no chance to get a glance from me even in my dreams.My thoughts have been confined to the VLSI lab and getting out of it one Saturday when Sundays and Saturdays have really lost there meaning, felt like scaling freely at FREESCALE Motorola.
This is for mamma,papa,my brother and relatives


A sleeping thought gets meaning
when you awake me...
Thin things become so thick
when you talk to me..
Heights loose the awe
when you embrace me...
The power bestowed by you
is the one that drifts me..
Its just love and nothing else
that drives the world...
Surprised at those
who are alive and kicking..
Living without a drop of affection
In a dearth of warmness..
Striving for a relationship
in a hunger of liveliness.

Gone with the wind...

Finally after a long time I went to my Alma mater MMEC to take my degree and got to know about our convocation that’s next month… Thank God!! I’ll attend my Bachelor’s convocation before Master’s ..I was really afraid. After nearly 2 years, going to college with Pallavi made me remember of our B.Tech days. So lovely, innocent and magnificent were those days. It was not the place changed but the crowd. It seems after every year like transistors’ integration on a chip is being enhanced so are the styles and trends amongst students….Hence proved Moore’s law is universal..haha. But seriously, as we proceeded our final steps inside the campus and stood in front of that eagle shaped building ..i smiled and said Oh My God!! Look Pali it still has the same fragrance around. Old memories embraced my heart. I held a silent combat with my emotions somewhere deep inside. That reception area, account’s branch and academic office…woah… Gita mam, Pratap Sir, Khosla Sir stll sitting and working there. I looked at Khosla Sir and he recognized me…see I was so popular…kiddin..he called me Nimisha aao aao kaisi ho?? I grew senti hmmmmm..then we completed the formalities. Yes in the account’s branch too every body was sitting in their respective chambers. That old man still sitting amid plethora of files. When I was in 1st year I used to think he is so old (working after retirement) a true example of old age maladies….he would stop working after this semester. Oh man..he was still there and looked the same as there is no more scope for him to appear older than what he does.
Now, we stepped up and there was our library. Those white wide stairs where we had clicked numerous photographs in final sem. Those were same but the steps those stairs were bearing had changed the weight. I had passed hours with that books galore in my First sem.. I was so afraid (because of fear of ragging) of stepping outside in lunch time. Those walls with sayings hung on them and those last two racks of ECE books…..everything looked unmoved. If I could exchange time with the people around, I definitely had. Even during practices for SAT, our team of 12; 4 PG and 8 UG students, I use to feel the same. Everytime those 2nd year students used to say,” Mam just 3 months and you will be out of this hell…you are so lucky”. Huh…when I was in 2nd year and my brother in 4th year these used to be my words. But when those days are gone I realize how wrong I was.
Then we stepped up and entered 2nd floor….grew even more senti…that corridor and lecture halls 301-304.. in 4th year we had got so bored of these lecture halls but Pali and I were so happy like a small cherub had got his favorite chocolate. All the memories, pangaas and instances we recalled in every lecture hall. Oh yeah! When we were walking infront of 103..Pali stopped me and said…see you were caught here… the first and the last time I bid a proxy in final year. It was principal’s lecture of Bussiness organization and rest is history ..haha..we burst into loud laughters…I never attempted any unfair means and Abhay made me a scape goat that day…thank God I was not punished. Those two days were the longest 48 hours I have ever had.
Then I started looking for Isha, one year junior to me. She is lecturer now. Okie I got it…I entered her room..Oh my God!! That short height cutie pie is a lecturer…she was actually looking like a lecturer. We shared our days and the one hour long journey in our college bus from Kurukshetra to MMEC. Neha, Isha, Priya, Bhanu, Mohit, Siddharth…. we guys had enjoyed a lot. But I remember many times we used to curse that bumpy road..and getting up at 5:45 am and catching bus at 7am and getting back tired and broken at 6:15pm. I now feel and can smell the fragrance and beauty of those days. That was one life……now gone with the wind.
Though I have enjoyed at Thapar too and feel that that my this second life is perfectly fine and I have learnt more than my curriculum here. But the beauty of the wonder years that have gone can not be explained.
Surely after 2 months when I’ll be out of Thapar..I ‘m going to miss these 2 years badly. About these days I’ll write after joining at Wipro, Hyderabad because the intensity of nostalgia would be higher then.

Gone with the wind..
That One life is gone…
Though living the second in tone..
Still that one life is unscathed
So fresh I can breathe the memories
Memories so warming left behind…
Gone with the wind…

Sand slipped out of my hands…..
Perhaps took an advantage..
Though I tried assiduously..
Gone with the wind…
Unnoticed and untold..

I look around inertly gruffed…
Search for the sand that flinged..
Looked here and sought there…
Found no where those sand minuscules..
Gone with the wind…

My hay days…one life
I lived to hilt…
That is nowhere but inside me..
A rush of blood when heart beats..
I can feel the memories still living….

Why couldn’t I stop the time…
To capture the moments I left behind..
People and air that earth so mine…
But searching for a tangible sign…

My brain’s entreaty to live second life..
Oh I’m living and enjoying..
That one life I wish I get back again…
I wish I get a tangible sign…
Hyphenate the two lives…….

First time....

One idea struck my mind today. We are so ecstatic when first time any good thing happens in our life and equally consternated and shattered in a down (but temporary) phase of our life. This is human nature perhaps and nobody can help it. People who learn to convalesce through all the ups and downs are few but always adored and appreciated by hoi polloi.
The first experience always drives you crazy and you can not forget it all through your life. Though everyone has own measures of happiness and worry, success and failure but the magic of “first time” can never stir your heart “next time” , like it does. So in short we live hardly few days and rest of our life we strive to get a life of those few days. We asphyxiate millions of times to really breathe one moment.

The first time I opened my eyes
I saw the world….
I don’t remember… when
I don’t know how I felt..
I don’t know with whom I dealt..

The first humane touch…
Perhaps of the doctor or the nurse…
I don’t know… how
I don’t know how I felt…
I don’t know who first hugged me then…

The first time I smiled….
I smiled at what…
I don’t remember why
I don’t remember when
I don’t know who shared my first grin.

The first time I walked…
I don’t know where I floundered…
Perhaps papa or mamma held my hand
I don’t know what impelled me on that land…

The first time I sobbed…
I don’t know why…
I can’t remember when…
Perhaps it was my brother who flogged…

May be I had beaten him back….
What I remember through all these years….

Those bleak looks on the road side..
Opened my eyes..
I saw the world and the pain so real.
I remember my eyes wide open..
Yes I had learnt to see!

The warm touch buoyed my heart..
My heart had got a life
The touch that I could feel so deep within..
I had felt family support and love
Yes I had learnt to feel!

Standing in front of mirror..
I shared my first achievement….
I smiled and my reflection smiled too…
Mirror looked so true and pure not lying any more..
Yes I had learnt to smile!

One decision I made and it worked..
I saw the sun saluting me…
Even moon light confided in me and that so good..
An erect gait and noble looks finally I had..
Yes I had learnt to walk!

The blood curdling silence and the diabolical sneer….
I saw the broken heart’s tears…
The blue air blanketed me, I had hurt someone
The ugly pearls played with my eyelids..
Yes I had learnt to cry!

Life so short and the days so small…
I wish hopes spring and fulfilled too
I wish I live every day…..
To live every moment…
To learn everything…
Everything before the end…..
But not “the end” before the end.

Men are from Mars...??

She was now looking at my eyes seeking for a solution and I was perhaps trying to hide scowl expressions. This was not because I was not comfortable with the discussion but I was feeling empathetic. She kept on telling me and asking me is she impatient or childish? Her words were fading away as I was playing with my mobile and thinking of the days when we used to sit together and talk about “Men are from Mars”. But today story is different because she is married now. Man is now not in Mars and she is not residing in Venus. They are both living on Earth with no option but adjust.
On a scoured and swept surface of my mind….. to me men are from Mars as far as sensitivity is concerned. How expressive girls are and how dour and dumb men behave in every relationship. Though I have no personal experience of such relationship, it is all what I have heard of. But it hurts when something hurts your friend. For the first time our discussion was dishonest on my part as I could not say he is wrong. I kept on telling her just give him time to understand you. At last she was happy, hugged me… thanked me but I felt like dishonesty strangled me….But now as she was happy …… I was happy too.


Every night when you close the eyes…..
You get together all day’s stories
You smile, you laugh……
Your heart dances and mind swings……
You find yourself flying with wings..
Amid this fantasy…
There comes a queer behemoth..
A million dollar question…..
What have you got n why are you happy??
Are there all strawberries in jelly??
A sweet pudding with no sugar..
Its all the story, its your will..
You snatch the stars
You reach the moon..
For the heart of hearts
For your love and life…
The happy heart then lands on ground..
It moves round n round…
you ask yourself..
Where is the heart I die for…??
Where is my love n life I lie for…??
Heart points on that peaceful figure…
The figure that brings happiness n pride..
Puts life in to life…
Its a reality or a dream..
Do ever your hearts meet??
Or it was an imagination…
To forget the life’s arena…
And to join the unknown..
You die for that heart,
Does that heart dies ever..
You die everyday
Does that heart ever bother..
Heart of hearts you say or,
hymns and prayers…
All in dreams…
All in imaginations…
In the end open the wet eyes..
Eyes once crowded with dreams
empty now..
Eyes now afraid to bid one more lifeless heart,
Heart that gives you love and life…
Then snatches all and brings you back
Back to the real world the real life.
Leaves you alone….
To dream more…….
To think more……

Running towards 1/4 th of journey...another milestone

One week after my b'day I see myself running towards 1/4th of journey.... another milestone.I juxtapose myself doing B.Tech and then doing M.Tech - a journey from a raw personality to not so raw personality.But not at all tired of constantly competing with a person (myself) who keeps on trying her hand in everything she looks around...but the interest has always been futile. This blog is another example...one more interest in series.

I look back..
I see myself
Calm and silent..
Determined but not virulent.
Writing hieroglyphics…
Yet not able to decipher that all..
The words too big..
And the heart so small.
Waxing lachrymose..
Not accepting the fake vows…
Used to swing to and fro..
Two ends – perfection and flaw.
Lost in labyrinths of insensitivity…
Each time I questioned in brevity…
Should I think over and over again?
Or Excommunicate the feelings in lighter vein…
The world so atrocious…
Or was I insane??
I used to think time and again…….
When I grew up??
When did I change??
My mind once a vagabond has chosen ways…
How to be happy how to sway…
My voice, my steps, my moments in the millions.
To be alone in a crowd…
And to buoy up with the memoirs..
Even when I sit alone.

I wish I could....

A sudden gush of wind.......
holds my hand...
Revealing a passion,
A burning obsession,
A fervid desire......
Like minds on fire...
It makes me to think,
Over and again...
About minds so profane....
I wish i could,
I think i should....
Noone dares and gathers,
The directionless flakes...
They wish they could,
They think they should...
Who dares to hold the wind...
Swerve the direction??
Make it ensconce
in the boundaries so lost...
Once marked with pride and values.
We wait and watch...
We think, we wish...
To make a niche...
Where someone let the birds free..
Let them live on a tree.
The tree - our nation..
The birds - courage, honesty and jubilation.

Sky..

Looking on the evening sky,
so calm so shy..
embracing the night's beauty,
and the feminine wiles..
It conceals the beauty spreaded across miles..
Primps and smiles the lofty sky..
standing forth the sea on the sly,
Waves now rising high and higher,
to bless the evening beauty on fire.
Sky then unveils the twinkling stars..
the cursory beauty lightens the dark.
All creatures sleeps warm and tight..
dreaming happiness all night.
New day welcomes the vivid sky...
Guzzling the beauty it had last night.
Wonder years came and now have gone...
heart still wishes the same old night sky..
afraid of the new day and new way.
Life keeps on swerving the ways..
Like the sky moulds the colours and shapes..
disgusts the heart and then buoys again.

welcome!!

A welcome note to the friends of mine...
I welcome you in this poet's shrine..
A different world but a true one..
full of honesty that I own...
Few reasons why I laugh..
with the reasons of my silence...
you read and feel even in my absence..