PROJECT 365

     As 2011 comes to an end in the next 24 hours...I have decided to keep myself busy in a project. PROJECT 365!The name itself indicates, 365, something I will, by rule, do for all the days of the year!
     Some of you may call it an annual resolution. But, mind it, this one is not meant to be broken!
     I have decided to capture one emotion, experience, adventure, memory, randomness or just something that is worth a look or even a glance.. everyday. 
     One photograph, one day, is all I am looking forward to! I'd rather suggest that you too pick up you mobile phone, digital camera and the Lucky asses can hold up your DSLR's and go.. 'click click click'
     In this way, I believe, not one day in 2012 will be sans a memoir from each day! When you look back upon that day and either marvel at your talent or ask yourself,"what was I thinking??" May be, at least maybe that will bring a smile on your face, and you'll smack your head!
 So cheers to a new year, to which I am truly looking forward to... Or to the new year, that I am doubtful about being a part of. Well, who knows if 2012 marks the end of the Earth?
     All I know is.. if the Earth comes to an end in 2012, I'd be a tormented soul... for have slogged out one year as an HSC student... don't I deserve to GET A  LIFE???
  ;) so.. cheers!! for new year, project 365- a memoir to life, a new hope to degree college, new friends, new relations new lessons and of course.. LIFE!!

Can I?

This is one question we ask ourselves, every time we take up something new.. something that intrigues us.. something, that makes us ask ourselves... CAN I???
The answer to this is.. how can you really know, without venturing into something that you once thought you were capable of??
I have learnt, to leave my inhibitions behind and to let go, of the string that holds on to it, all the hope, expectation and desire.. because only then.. will I do what I am capable of!!

Am I gay?

     It was on his 17th birthday, on the 19th June 1973. A lavish birthday party, Las Vegas was the theme. All the guests were in the best of their appearances. Sujoy, however was in a dilemma. He, for the first time in his life was in a jittery position. why? How? When? Is it normal? What should I do next? How can i confirm it? These were the questions he asked himself, when he felt the gush of his hormones when a pal of his hugged him.

     He was almost in disgust with himself. He ran toward the washroom. Locked it from within. Looked into the mirror and slapped himself. As though he wasn't allowed to be who he really was. As if what he felt was wrong. His disbelief left him in tears, hidden from the world, his social group who were celebrating for him. He cried his heart out in his loneliness. This time it was not about society or family, it was about self acceptance. 38 years back, when the concept of homosexuality either resulted into alienation or just sentenced as 'empowerment of the body by an evil spirit' meanwhile, Sujoy preferred to be silent.

     Sujoy didn't know what to do, and whom to consult and perhaps did what anybody would have. He is a divorcee today. As soon as the 377 act was passed by the jurisdiction, he knew that he didn't have the right to ruin another life. 

No sooner than he fled to Madrid, hoping that he would never, have to turn around and come back; did he meet the other part of his soul, Stefano. At the age of 35, Sujoy was finally happy, he was content with what he had.

Stefano encouraged Sujoy to come back to his nation and help the youth of his country.

not everyone is strong enough to take a stand and Sujoy was one of them.
However, the reality is, 47% of the Indian youth doubts their sexual orientation. Its not about what people think of you, its about what you think of yourself. Help yourself to walk out of such a situation, with your head held high, plus a solution would do just fine!

     This one is for those you either don't understand homosexuality or are simply adamant, not to accept. You are accepted as an individual, its time you learn to ACCEPT!. Its time to spread your arms and embrace people who fight and argue with themselves. Seek the courage to understand their agony. Pull them out of their rage and insecurities about survival. Help them believe in what they are.

     According to several studies, 60% of gays in India don't agree to conduct any surveys. They are rather embarrassed about themselves. From the remaining 40%,  98 out of 100 would rather marry a person of the opposite sex, than accept who they are. ONLY 2% of the Indian population who are gay, have shook hands with the desires of their soul and body. Lets lessen the difference, get our pals together. Be proud of your friends and family who confess to you! Love them and express to them, how much they are wanted!

Morning Raga.

     Dipping in the sea earlier these days, the sun has let the moon take over the great moods of the audience. Hypnotising us in the midst of the dark sky,the moon becomes the reason to a million smiles and moments spent in awe.

     Just walking by the lane, the wind hit me, like it was an indication, of a new start!
It felt like, its time to take a step aside form the daily track of my fast life, and let the breeze seep into me. Like its time, to put the cottons in the back of my closet and dust the woollens.
Like the chilled glass of lemon-aide and ice-candy should be given a miss and the coffee mug should be rinsed & kept ready to be poured in with the hot and steamy beverage.
Like, the sweaty neck and the tied up hair are meant to be left behind and the flowing hair around my shoulders ought to be noticed!
Time for the tube of lip balm in my pocket!
Time to rub your palms and tuck your arms!
A/Cs are to be abandoned, fritters and fries, #1 on the menu!
WINTER CANT GET ANY BETTER!!
waiting for you, Mr. Wind..... come knock me down!

Lost and Found

     Adding to all the analogies, today is a special one. To all those who lose something, find it, Cherish the moment, as well as for those who never get the opportunity to!
     Lost and Found reminds me of  school days. When I'd cross my fingers and walk past the corridor toward the lost property room,a dark dingy place with a peculiar odor, in hopes to find my lost pouch, I'd look for it in all the possible places. Sometimes, in a very rare corner would I find something similar to my pouch, and further hope that all the material in it is intact. Very rarely would i find all my pens and pencils in it! Many a times, a few pens would be missing and sometimes, I would find an extra scale in it and that moment of finding a brand new scale would also bring a smile on to my face!
     Today, when I am actually writing this, I consider the people in my life, like my pouch.[you could chuckle over it, or actually think]
     Yes, be them friends or family, a lost and found incident always comes along all of us!
The lost property room actually resembles my life. Covered with dust.. with people who don't belong to me and when I look carefully, in the furthest corners, I find those whom I can pick up the right and claim to be mine!
     Often, those pens and pencils in my pouch are the qualities Ive known my friends with. Seldom, when i meet them after long,[long lost friends that we call them] I think back and try recollecting whether those pens are familiar to me or not.. sometimes the new pens need to be smoothed, I need to get accustomed to them. While the new scale in the pouch comes as a complete surprise, so do certain beautiful aspects to them bring a new dimension to the relationship!
      Sometimes those close people lie in the most obvious places, yet I don't look, why? because its just too obvious to look in those places.. or I'd rather not look for some people. Like in school, I'd not look for my old pouch. I'd love it so much, that even after it had torn, i had stitched it up, but lately, i would end up losing a pen or two everyday.Its high time I'd got a new pouch. It was just not worth the struggle to hold on to it, just like we don't hold on to certain relationships after we know, we have an intuition that they are not meant to live for any longer.
Its like, some pens, come along for the "3 hours" examinations, while some pencils have to be sharpened rigorously. Well now, Its time to give up your pencil and get yourself a new pen pencil... all you need to do is, add the lead , like the virtue of your personality. All that matters is the lead and not the plastic cover.. just like all that matters is, your soul! THE REAL YOU!
    

A submarine of questions

      I often judge my way of writing as analogical and comparative, on a different level.

      What's fey today? QUESTIONS! When I face just too much at one time, in one go, its be like I am trapped in a.. submarine! Locked up, alone.

 With it being the only possible place I could breathe peacefully, I end up getting perfectly claustrophobic! I want to leave this mechanical submarine as I see the beautiful fauna underwater, through the window. But I then realise, what a disaster it would be, to see the entire flora in just one breath.. and then either drown down exasperated... or float back to the surface.. the reality!

    I often feel like just runing away from all the questions I come across. As I see that nobody, absolutely nobody around me feels the same way, their lives seem to be so much better. Just like, my submarine is, in the cruel-most ways bliss to me, and the saline water is to the fish outside, if I step into the shoes of anybody else, life would rather be like me in the water out there, and the fish...you know where!

      May be all I need to do is, learn to sail my sub, my life and bring it up, onto the shore, because, after all, the land is where I belong to!

Dear Love,

     I have so much to thank you for!
You are not a mere feeling, emotion, or gesture. You are an expression, of attachment, excitement, pleasure and peace!
You bring a smile onto every body's face. You are one thing (if you wouldn't mind me calling you a thing, ) that I gather more, only on sharing you the most! You give people the assurance of security, the realisation that they are wanted, by the people they "love"!
We know how much we owe you. It can cost a life time to feel you, be in the place where you are, and have always been at!
Though sometimes,  we all in some stage of life or other, do come across the feeling of not having you.. Like you are there, from me, to others, but not the other way round, and that makes me question you. Why are you biased?
Why do you let some people have you to the fullest, till they abuse you existence, and, why do you create anxiousness in the lot, in aspiration of feeling you by the wind blowing across your face? Why do they rather lose hope of ever facing a windy evening?
I know, you are well aware that my next question ought to be,"why do some people get it the easy way, while some have to stumble onto the rocky path?" Yet in none of my pleading former letters to you, have you replied to my query. WHY?
It almost feels like I am in the middle of a canyon and nobody can hear me yell for help, and right when I see a chopper pass by, I LOSE MY VOICE!!!
Oh love, your filled with irony and underlined meaning. I wonder whether there is still murk under your crystal clear appearance of running water!!
Oh love, you always make me stand back when I think I may quit!!
Oh love, You make me question, whether I have shared you enough to get some of you for myself, or have I given you away so much, that now, you seem incomplete to my soul? 
                                                                           Yours,                  
                                                                       Sneha Shetty.

This one is for YOU!

     Too many years of friendship to count on my fingers.

      Not a memory in my mind, but a journey in my heart, that, a few years ago, I didn't  want to travel with you. The trio, of Gunjan, Sneha, Madhura... we have spent almost a decade as friends!

     The Holi we celebrated together, digging up a huge pit for the bonfire and snack up at midnight with roasted coconut, making strategies for the "girls v/s boys" Holi war on the terrace, followed by jalebi, bread roll, and dosas!!!

     The Hide and Seek, gold spot, badminton! While the more interesting days were in the corridor playing treasure hunt and painting eachothers' faces after we'd get bored of my big painting book! The shoe boxes filled with our Pokemon and Dragon Ball- Z cards.. Bus tickets and the bus-bus we played with my little blue cycle. Teacher-Teacher at our homes! Science practicals!! oof.... they where so so tough.[making a glass of tang with perfect measurements, dude, you cant get away with that!]

     While Gunjan and Madhura, loved playing with their barbies, Teeku and I would get enthused with our hot wheels. What actually reminds me of BARBIES, is the zillion times we got our dolls married... oh it was so lame.. but I'll never really deny that I did that!

     Fighting with you, and at the end of the face off, we'd cry and confess how much we loved each other[ actually hate each other]

But those tears, I'd rather not see them again. May be all those petty fights and cruel arguments, then, is what has made us what we are, now. "Confession Days" is what we call them, buckets full of tears, hours together, getting out all the frustrations and my huge and tight hugs, that would almost deprive you of a breath...[now you know.. I really wanted to kill you]

The funniest days were when I taught you to ride your bicycle![ bitch, you are the elder one.. ain't that supposed to be your job?] However the major task was to get rid of those side wheels. I'd love hitting you with the cane when you'd give up... may be that is what your learnt in the long run... "Don't Quit" At the end of every session, the pepsi cola, was rejuvenating... and, this again remind me of the great, great parties we had!

     The first one starting from 1/- per head! Asking for those 100...paise was a dreadful dead! [ arre tu hal ke mummy ko bol na... chillayegi!] our regular dialogues.. weren't they? Later, the green cheetose became the eye candy.. not because they were tasty.. but the quantity.... enough for our ever growing appetite.

As time has passed, our standards have improved.. our love for food is immortal, the craving for chicken is killing.. Now, 2 pizzas, chicken wings, pasta, garlic breads, then a tender coconut ice cream and then a gold medal ribbon from BR in waffle cone with hot chocolate fudge....isn't enough... we can even bid all our money.. even the last penny for the ride back home... but food comes first... before life too!!!

     May be today I don't meet you too often, like I used to, around # years back. But I like it better this way, once in a month or so... because then we have so much to share with each other... so much to chit-chat about... The funny part is, you stay just one flight of stairs away from me, and all the window talks we've had... "Sneha.. moti phone kyu nai utharahi?"

and I reply to that..."Guddu.... tu... sukadi... number- changed!"

     Now I have so much to tell you so much, without thinking. You are probably one of the closest and dearest people to me, in whose presence, I can fart aloud![i know its not that pleasing...] But I mean, I can cry, yell, laugh, smile, blush and even learn the latest slang in town!  ;)

     We're like opposites.. antonyms..you are as much as a girl, as much as I can be the guy!

You have taught me the most important lesson of life so far, "Don't set boundaries and limitations for yourself, Because you ought to break free, just go with your gut feeling.. but don't do anything that displeases you, or the people you love."

     Happy Birthday Guddu!

  Loads of love, on your 19th year to your luxurious and dynamic life!

[save your butt.. because you're going to get 19 birthday bombs]

My FIRST Crush..!!

    I was at my cousin's home one day. He was with a couple of his mates playing video games. One of his friends, in my clear memory, was indeed very cute! He was fast, knew amusing tricks, handsome with a moustache and he had a red cap! He could break bricks, not with his hands or legs, but with his head! "What a gentle man!" I thought to myself. I could see myself as the princess he wanted to rescue from the dangerous and evil monsters!

     Whom am i talking about? Its Mario. Usually girls prefer Dave, but my greatest hero ever, is 

Mario, or should i say, "SUPER MARIO"

      I have spent months together in my summer vacations to get Mario to his princess... after all, I didn't want him to be upset for too long, did I?? All the levels were at the tip of my finger tips and of course on the joystick! My television video game set rocked big time!!!
Scorching heat all afternoon and me at home with chilled lemonade... and super mario!!!

    Till today, there hasn't been one single man, as cool as Mario!
     I love you Mario! Kids these days love you no more.. though i do.. i still do!!

    

But It Rained!

     Sitting on the backseat of the bus, on my way back home, it rained. The season ending showers are so pleasant!

     Every time I stretched my arm out of the window, to feel the raindrops come land on my palm, I experienced something that can redefine life. I felt alive. As it rained heavily, the smile on my face didn't fade. Its like my favourite stress buster!

     Rain, the clouds,  thunders, the bright lightnings, the cold shivers and the windy weather.. the craving for the perfect cup of coffee [ I'd settle for a cup of hot chocolate too] a bowl of maggi noodles or even pakoras and hot samosas could do the magic that cleans up everything.. the dust settled on green leaves and changes my mood!

     I have a fey memory of how, as a child, I'd stretch my hand out of the window leaning on it at home to feel the rain. I'd ask my sister"what colour is rain?" She'd say "It has no colour" As I had tiny arms, all the muddy water falling off the roof would seem like rain water to the tiny me.. and I'd say"liar... its brown" I chuckle at it even today.. though now, the difference is, my arms are long enough to reach the clean rain water!!

     A few months or may be years later, I got well acquainted with the flash light of the camera. I'd go running toward the window, opening it and smile looking toward the sky, thinking that God is clicking a snapshot of his children! I sure didn't want to miss that.. but, the thunder after that rather seemed like mountains came crashing down! [I am sure, by now you know where my imagination came from]

     Luckily, I have been the only kid at school who'd never get a smack on the ass after getting wet! All my friends would rather come over to ours to get dried up.. with a hot water bath and hot-hot bournvita.

     Rainy season at school was only about BUTTA!

It has varieties from the smallest for 3 rupees to the biggest ones for 6! Oh...the aroma, the rush around the vendor and of course the mirchi/ nimbu toppings!! My tongue is spiced up already!

     Cycling in the rains, racing and then realising that the breaks have given up... just makes me wish I could live it all again

     I have the cycle, the butta and the clean rain water too.. but all that is lost in these years, is the cute and silly innocence of those innocent people to play with!

Losing the numbness

      Sometimes, we don't understand ourselves too well. We need specific people in our life to show us.. to get us well accustomed with the various qualities that add to our personality and the dimensions to our soul.

      Some people tend to enhance these aspects, a few others struggle to conceal them. All that you can do is, know people in your life, don't  judge them, understand them, to realise what they are and they want from you.

      When you come across a new feeling or emotion, its more or less because, somebody helps you to realise that you possess those characteristics. 

      Like.... You know that you can fall in love, only when somebody loves you.

                  You get angry only when somebody is capable of making you angry.

                  You laugh or cry, be happy or sad, enthused or lethargic..

      At most of the instances, there are certain people near and dear to you who help you feel the change. Somebody needs to touch you, touch your soul, for you to realise that there actually exists one. As if, it has been there for ages, unnoticed and numb... and one day, you seem to lose the numbness.

      People who have gone through rough patches in their lives, find offence in somebody wanting to know them. It feels dreadful to find that somebody can actually show you what you pertain to. Its okay to be resentful once in a while. Its okay to enclose all your frustrations and desires into a chest, lock them away in the inaccessible depths of your memories and throw the key in the ocean of your heart. All that really and truly matters is, if somebody finds the key, don't resist unlocking yourself. Let your wounds heal, because only the ones who intend to stay for long, will take pains to actually dive into your heart, and stay there.. without drowning!

      So let go, Take a chance...

Questions.?.

I often ask God, why, why don't you grant me at least somethings I want?

why don't you let me design my own life and lead myself to my destiny?

why am I so unsure about how will my tomorrow mould out?

And today, I think I've found answers to these questions.

May be because I really don't know what I want out of my life, and what I want to make out of it!

I am not even too sure of everything I've desired of.. from the college I wished to study in, to the people in my life.

One never gets an ounce more than ones rights or what one deserves. Everything gets balanced out accurately. Everything is so meaning full and simple.

Yet our thoughts and our will to have a clear idea of every scenario makes the situation like a maze, coming across to be impossible!

Now the new question is,should I let go... to hold back something better?

Or should I grip harder so that nobody can snatch anything from me?

I know.... or, i don't?

I question myself, day in and day out.
Why do I do everything I prohibit myself from doing?
Why do I set rules, that I know I will break someday?
Why do I draw limits? Though I know I will cross the line, to see whats there on the other side.
Why do I pull myself back? When I intend to throw myself with double the momentum.
Is it because, I want to test myself with how far can I go without losing grip of everything I've held on for so long?
How far will I mislead me?
Is there an answer to my question, here, where I stand today, or, should I jump across my L.O.C. to know whats the best for me?

Sometimes, even photographs don't have memories.

     Photographs have been a muse for millions of people for centuries now! Some photos have a story behind their existence, while some others don't have a reason, or the reasons may have perished in course of time!
     Like how certain things gave you absolute pleasure, and the perfect reason to laugh your heart out.. those reasons fall short for the same reaction, as you grow!
     Like after a certain age, you make friends no more.. you just meet acquaintances.
     Like certain stories kept you awake for hours together.. those become the reason for you to fall asleep!
     The same way, certain memories are great for a while, but gradually they fade! Not that they weren't important, they just weren't important enough... to stay for longer!
     Each photograph has a memory.... a meaning to it, yet, some just fail to reflect it back!

 Dedicated to Parineeta Poonja!
    
    

GLASS

I FEEL LIKE GLASS TODAY..
FEEBLE, UNABLE TO UPHOLD, MY STRENGTH AND SHOW IT TO THE WORLD..
I FEEL HELPLESS.. LIKE ANYONE CAN CRUSH ME AND CARE NONE ABOUT MY AGONY.
I FEEL LIKE GLASS TODAY...
BIGGER THAN THE BIGGEST.. CLEAN AND TRANSPARENT.. YET BRITTLE.
MAKE ME UNBREAKABLE..
BUT YOUR MEAN FIRE CAN DEVASTATE ME.
I FEEL, LIKE GLASS TODAY..
NOBODY TO HEAR ME,
I FEEL LIKE GLASS TODAY...
NOBODY TO HEAL ME.

THE VALUE OF YOUR TEARS.....

Is known only by you; because they are yours.
Instead, nobody knows or nobody can even estimate your sorrow or the deep agony of your heart, that weeps and screams for help.
Nobody can hear, see or feel the difficulty you have, in taking  breath because only you know how difficult it is to swallow all the pain that you've gone through.
The value of your tears , is known only by you!
The stench of the bitter experience follows you like your own odor.
Forgetting that day, the hour of that moment becomes your agenda and that itself keeps reminding you all that has effected you.
The value of your tears is known only by you, because they are yours.
It cannot be weighed , it cannot be measured.
No estimation is near, no accusation is right.
Because for you, tears aren't a waste.
They are in fact the cost of your heartbreak.

It, very randomly becomes easy to be frustrated because nobody knows what your tears actually mean to you.

Its not a mere letting of your emotions but holding back, you hope that somebody would wipe your tears off.... its your belief that at least someone knows the value of your tears.

My fault... or not?

In my 70 years of life, I have passed through almost every phase including the ones, one doesn't hope, expect or enjoy being a part of.

As I run my hand through my hair, as I rub my eyes, getting off my bed. I look at my image reflecting from the mirror across the room.And 'not' to my surprise, I see stretched and wrinkled skin, dull eyes and salt & peppery hair. A bent back... and a lost identity, expression and every emotion that had made my life what it was for so long.I see my misery and plight flash through my eyes, while I question myself,as to what do I own, other than my dead husband who left me to struggle alone in my early 30's, a son who disowned me, a daughter who shrugged me off her shoulders and grandchildren who merely care to recognise the grandma.

I, rather am dubious about my abilities from the past. Had I saved something for my own old age, I would neither have to wash my own clothes with one leg already in the grave and nor would I have to wear a smile at the old age home, just to pretend like my life is,and what I chose it to be. I wouldn't have to weep in loneliness and lie about it being a joint ache.

What is my fault? 

I don't even see myself in a position to question my kids about where had I gone wrong when did I stumble? Was my baggage too much for my children to handle it?

Or was my only fault, that I mothered my dead husband's children of an extra marital affair with my own milk. The endless, sleepless nights in worry for them, with the warmth of my body, and unconditional love...that they seem to have  forgotten..

based on  fiction

stranded and saved

Dry leaves fall of the tree,

"come look at us" they call me.

I walked toward them, gazing in awe,

believing that everything is beautiful, by the Almighty's law.

As the leave comes dancing in air across my face,

the death of the innocent shines in grace.

It sways and moves..like its free from bondage,

it reaches the floor like it was out of its cage!

I personified the leaf to be alive..

and believed that it had overcome all its life's strife.

The leaf had succumbed to heat, rain and the storm,

so I embraced it giving it love so warm!

I strode across the street with so much pride,

because I hope, when I am stranded... I do get a ride!

there so many... here just one.

In this huge silly world of more than a 100 billion people, somewhere, in the 7th largest country INDIA, in its 3rd largest state, MAHARASHTRA, lies the worlds most expensive cosmopolitan.. MUMBAI.. where I reside. A tiny individual, who is practically a nobody, without an identity, trying to push myself ahead in the race. The race of wanting to be somebody.

  I drag my weight and push it around the people I love. Just to assure myself that"yes! there are people who don't mind standing behind me, to lead me and hold me when I trip." Or rather somebody who wants to be there for me.. my friend, my family"

But, I've lately concluded that as there is an end to every story, not specifically a happy one, there is a certain end for this story too... which has rendered me with a vanishing of 'WE' and emerging of 'ME'. The death of 'US' and the rebirth of the immortal 'I'

LIFE, IS LIKE THAT!

 Wanting people to quit expecting from you, is in itself an expectation. I stand there with a bunch of my mates, questioning myself.. Will I be able to stand by you in your desperate times of need? and immediately, a part of me pounced and said..YES!! but somewhere... deep inside, I knew.. before I stood up for someone else.. I would be in a situation to be there only for myself!

I asked myself once more... whether the days of joy are truly shorter than the days of sorrow.. And I answered my query... "JOY"  must be redefined. Was joy, a day spent as a spend thrift or a day, saving each penny more to splurge it some time else.

Does happiness lie in enjoying the a/c in the back seat of your car, or taking up the bus today for a nice rickshaw ride tomorrow.

Is fun associated with having a day out with some people and wearing unwanted smiles.. or spending a day in, with yourself, laughing your breath out at  randomly stupid things!

Does life exist in the virtue of counting the number of happy days.. or living each of those moments without a second thought flowing across your mind?

May be I were never meant to be accompanied through the ups and downs of my life..

May be I should have waited for someone to come rescue me.

Or may be just held on for a little longer..hoped for some more.. wished for a teaspoon plus of support and then when none of these come my way.. just shed it all in tears... or simply.. walk the crowd ALONE!!

Dedicated to my dear darling sister.. PARINEETA S. POONJA

the love she found for herself

A brown t-shirt by lee, paired With the hottest pair of cargo pants, at an accurate 60 degrees angle north eastward within a radius of a meter from her, there he was..... glaring at her. For every time she caught a glimpse of his eyes...she wondered whether it was the worst hair day with coconut oil on it...the over sized t shirt with the hand cut shorts, or was it the droopy looking eyes that looked like those of a frog..and then she thought if any of these speculations were worth that stare that persisted for so long. May be, there could be a second possibility where "he would've noticed the beauty in me" she thought to herself, and doubted herself again... Thinking whether anything really existed in her! She questioned her understated beauty. Trying to sneak a glance of the miserable avatar she closed her eyes and made up her mind that she was no beautiful and claimed the man to be staring at her misery.She glanced back to see one last time whether he still looked at her, and she saw that the passion prevailed, it existed like he wanted her in his arms since ages and was trying to be satisfied just from a distance. This time her questioning about her facial and physical beauty was affirmative. She found herself asking her mind and soul, whether her eyes express far more than illness.  Her smile bloomed, lightening up her face. Her hair having more just than mere coconut oil on it. When she realized the wandering of her thoughts was fruit full, Mr. "I look cool in cargo's" said "you wouldn't find it in your face, its all in your soul." wonder struck, she stood there with her mouth open. He turned smiled, and winked at her waving good bye. He was the first man who had ever made her feel beautiful, who had made her feel loved and wanted. She never tried to search for him again, because the first meet was mesmerizing enough to last for an eternity. Yet she believed they were meant to be and will be brought back by DESTINY!

The Street Kid

Not one day passes by, when I don't see a child on the street, with the fair skin concealed with mud and dirt, that blocks his bright future from even entering his thoughts, an empty bowl with a peculiar odor that belongs to the streets of the "slum-dog" .
He walks by every person he meets... deciding whether his fate has brought him a man with a big buck or a thug with an empty pocket....
One rupee isn't the value of a beggar today! When your pocket sheds a 10... that's' when your standards are marked by a mere..'street kid'
  Intimidating.. isn't it?? being judged by the amount of charity  you offer, not for being counted in those tiny blessings... but to keep away from the little one's curses, that may , you think will harm your well being!
The touch.. so  nasty, so cunning and shrewd  that keeps instigating you to rather walk away with a stink eye, or a slap that would be satisfactory! Imagined already, ready with a hand sanitiser to keep yourself safe...
        Its often observed that the most learned ones turn out to be the foolish mob!!!! Doesn't anyone care about the streets being empty, without anyone sleeping and creating a family? Doesn't anyone know the cost of growth, that, every person must be provided with....
Progress for the street bearers is only producing one more burden on the earth.. Not  to turn every milestone in one's life...not to be successful one day and get out of the cruel grind.... but to sing a prayer or two more, and earn a little more sympathy than usual, or a dolar or two by a foreigner who is pleased to see the plight of losing nothing in the eyes of the actual citizens..the beggars!!
      "This is not my work, why should i do it?"
A question I am tired of hearing...the typical  people I am tired of meeting. Who know to crib about the crowd and the filth, but hate to clean their house with their own hands!!!!!
 DON'T EXPECT OR WANT WHEN YOU CANNOT GIVE!!
I hate the fact that there exists a street kid....yet I am sure of visualizing a day when the latter smiles across all your faces with a grin that pities you!!

rejoicing nature

terrace view of nature

         As the sun sets, a very different, rather , a very fey breeze blows into my face. Breathing in all the its newness, I delightfully accept the prowess of the nature that barges into me. A very serene side of the burning day light becomes a visual treat, reminding me of the most important reason to survive... TO LOVE MY LIFE AND THIS ENTIRE WORLD , FOR GIVING ME ALL THAT IT HAS!

         I go peering into the vanishing sun and drown  down in its mesmerizing beauty, that I certainly don't remember much about why it is, and how it is. The captivating scenery in the city with sky scrapers, an addition to the accessories of the sketch, instigating me, to stand on the top-most point I can, spread my arms willing to hug the world and feel all the wind passing through me!

         I get so involved with it,that I lose control over my body and soul...surrender to the soft, unspoken.. unheard music and get carried away with the wind.

sunset

         It takes me to a new world, where the sensuality of the clouds, leaves me rejuvenated, with the loveliest smile on my face! Inarticulately gets registered in my mind as the call of the universe, to love it... to take care of the nature!!

WHO SAID I DON'T???

Though I look so strong, inside & out,
if I want to cry, why is there a doubt?

I told you, I'll stand beside you, being your shade,
you know I'll be there, does that mean I don't need aid?

I have a heart too,
that weeps in a while,
my frustrations are congested,
stuffed in a pile.

I ran in search,
for your hand, your shoulder,
I screamed your name.
and my pain made it louder.
I saw you there, starring at me,
with an expression that said
"I have nothing to say"
I ran toward you,
and you vanished away
yet I waited for you,
all throughout the day.

I hoped you would come,
at least in disguise,
rescue to take me home
& I realized I want wise!

It ain't your fault, you never understood me,
I shall be blamed, for my conscience can't let it be.

I thought you would guess,
I wanted you so much, so bad,
and see my situation, that hindrances had had.

I couldn't hurt you, by saying that you hurt me.
I couldn't make you cry, by saying that you've made me cry.
even then, I cant hate you,
I don't know why, but I don't want to love you.
and now that is not a lie.

I want you to go away from me,
so that you can live yours and I can live my life,
for once I want to say it,
I don't want to be your wife.

I wanted to lay my head on your shoulder,
but failed to find it.
I wanted to pour my heart out to you,
but I couldn't see you.
I wanted you to be the reason for my smile,
and yet another time, I failed...just to smile.
I wanted our life to be an example to all
but there was no our, just you and me.
and ever since I stood up, you made sure that I fall!
 

a thought for the day!

sunrise

         Not as always, today was a bright cool morning, the sun threw its rays on my face, making me realize that 'its time to wake up' and discover the day coming my way, waiting for me to unveil it!!!

        I walked pass the passage at home and just felt a chill of the floor, growing into my feet that suddenly made me giggle. I wondered why, why a giggle?? and at that instant I knew, the first feeling I had this morning would only bring me a sweet memory, a memory of a smile!

       That one smile on my face, never needed to be replaced! It made me feel full of zeal and enthusiasm for the day to be unleashed. Like a beautiful adventure unfolding itself for my joy. I walked toward the next thing I had to do.. and I did not seem to have an idea about it. I didn't know, what was next in the marvelous journey I thought was waiting for me!

       I then decided to rest on my father's rocking chair, with my legs folded up, gathered with my arms, wrapped in a blanket I felt like heaven touched my feet! Sitting cozily on the chair, smiling all the way, dreaming about, what was it, that made me feel a rush through my veins and butterflies in my stomach, exciting me about nothing that special... in fact, nothing special at all...

         Call those goosebumps, excitement or simply madness, I've lately discovered in me. There is something, really beautiful  coming up for me..ON MY WAY TO LIFE!!!a

There sure ain't anything that makes me feel special, than the  thought of 'a thought' of a life so special!!!

CHEERS!!!