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Showing posts from 2015

Trust

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The most delicate yet forever of most essence, Trust, to hold by tight without an ounce of pretence... For the lightest feather swaying in the gentle breeze, A beauty to watch and yet harmed by a negligent ease... The closest to us often taken for granted on this front, Let that not ever disturb the bond to bear its weary brunt... Time it takes to build this castle on firmer ground, Patience for brick, grit for mortar and care abound... To have the core of the selected few touched upon, A bond to nurture every moment and every little dawn... At times a deluded thought is all it takes to scatter, If its one to last and be there let it not ever matter... Trusting the one who hangs in there putting up with you,  With every crazy antic, a partner in crime you always knew.. Fear not for the loss of trust for its not to last by the book, Move, gather the pieces to solve the biggest puzzle life would cook.. The ones who deserve shall forever s

A guide

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    A walk down the road is forever lonely. The road that leads to that ever changing destination. The road different for every individual yet on these roads there are those turns of doubt and deception. The treacherous pitfalls and the wrong turns which might lead you astray. Such times call for a lamp or a board that directs you. A guide in our lives steps into these mighty shoes of direction. The actors essaying this role change over time but the ultimate motive of this character - the guide - remain the same throughout. The guides creed beginning right in the tender days of childhood, with the very first guide being our mother. To take those tentative first steps in this world of hustle and bustle and to supported by the firm of our father. As days tumble into years we learn from the school of life. Every event around us is ready with a lesson for us to perceive and eventually learn at our own pace. The academic front acquaints us with numerous guides in the form of our teachers.

The Bus Stop..

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    The chaos was distracting. The constant chatter of the people around him. The fleeting conversation snippets fell on his weary years. The day had been a tiring one. All said and done, he was here waiting by the bus stop as everyday. The route number plate read 1331. His tie all wrinkled up and hair disheveled. Waiting and waiting for nobody. The routine was  almost monotonous now. But this day had been more draining than ever. Hardly a bus had stopped by. All had rushed by. Almost as if speeding up by the bus stop instead of slowing down. She came silently and sat on the extreme end of the seat of the bus stop and opened up a book - 'The Shining'. "Ohh Stephen King!, strange choice for this time of the night", he thought. Her red scarf was striking enough to distract him even more. He would have went over and started a discussion on any other normal day, but not today. Today had been particularly crushing and yet was far from over.     No buses had stopped

The Tale of The Two...

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     Her sight was divine. As he stood there transfixed the wind blew all around him. Tugging at his senses threatening to tear him from the pages of this dimension. The world around was all but a fickle in the dynamics of his unstable mind. The disarray in his brain was evident. 'Nervousness' should have been the least of his worries right now. How senseless the world seemed to reel and run, not coming for the subtle nuances of being stuck in a moment. Her bicycle stood tenderly propped beside her gently held. A moment where nothing matters. Moments which led to this moment were equally essential. She stood as innocent as ever. But then appearances were meant to be deceptive.    It was so very easy to talk without apprehensions which such moments brought upon him. To open up to her and at times divulge more than what was meant to be. As she traced her fingers through her hair, subtly being gorgeous tucking them behind, he knew he was done in for once and for ever. She still

On the occasion of Raksha Bandhan.. :)

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              The day when your news feed crops up chocolate brands  and videos on the pristine bond of a brother and a sister. The hostel is abuzz with a range of emotions. Some pestering the guard for not notifying them about the postman's visit while some locked in their rooms for the fear of being 'bhai'-zoned. The times when you read a nostalgic post and hear dreamy conversations over the phone. Its wonderful to hear of anecdotes your friends have to share about this very relation. Those well-made videos make you a bit weep on the inside. For its a different day for ones not having had their share of childhood fun with their own sisters. A day when perhaps you are reminded of the blank space against the sibling field. This is post is not to be moppy on this day, but a post of gratitude for those who never let you feel alone on this day.                For those who give you means to brag over the number of 'rakhis' on your wrist. A different view when you

Line..

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All eyes stare blank and hard, Efforts just to decorate life in a shard. Taking care not to cross paths drawn, Blurry eyes shunned, stifled many a yawn. Square boundaries drawn in union here, Break neck speed and competing with a leer. Circles of society to enter against will, Clashes and alliances become a dreary drill. Decisions made in the blink of an eye, Words but futile hurled, for want of a try. Safe and secure your next day ought to be, Farces valued and not the dreams you often see. Shepherded over the hill of mediocrity, Discarded in ruins below lie the genuinely witty. And through these ashes rise the worthy few, Climbing, trekking the slopes waiting to start anew. Life's more subtle perhaps than some make, Live through the downs and the ups are then to take.

Confused..

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    A state where nobody wishes to be. All fuzzy and dizzy. A time where you are required to decide. To decide what you need to do with life. Life gives you a plethora of options. A string of roads lay wide open ahead of you. Ones walking along leave you at crossroads and keep walking on ways of their own. Every road with its own perks and pitfalls. Tempted to follow any one of the horde down any one of those paths, you stay back. The 'society' expects you decide added to the pressure your brain imposes, imperceptible yet relevant.              How do you decide? Confused and a tinge of nervous fear is how you could be described as. Assumptions and baseless predictions on each of the crossroads add to the furore. Lazing away and not daring to take risks and think beyond the realms of predefined pastures of being successful. One of the paths tugs deeply at your heart. Calling you, but most risky of all. Requiring you to abandon all your current pursuits. To shun the securi

Musings.. :)

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   Isn't it a bit cruel? The truth at times seems to hit hard home. Some things are better kept untouched . But then is ignore pure bliss? The unconscious contentment that lies buried in not knowing the entire situation is quite evident. Life goes on, they say. It doesn't wait for you. To ponder and try to analyse, is perhaps a waste. If only things could be as you willed them to be. Yes, agreed that they do ultimately are as you will them to be. But then not every moment is pleasing for the heart. Somewhere your instincts tell you to stay away from going down a particular path. They try to save you, shield you from potential heartache. Sadly it's only through self-realisation that one learns. It's tough when you pour all your thoughts and emotions for a cause which shall never be. One could crib and be morose about it all the time and in the process. The world seems a bit on the dopey side, yet life goes on. These are the low times perhaps. There comes a time when o

The flute by the sea...

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        The tune of the flute was enticing. She could feel it beckoning her. The quiet melody tugging at her senses. Tempting them to break down. She had to let go, free from the daily nuances of life. The hectic schedule, college, classes, peer pressure and the pressure to excel everywhere. It was daunting at times. The often over hyped college life was worth the wait. It was fun but with its own demands. Friends, the so called friends, the way you had to be sure and carry yourself at all times, the facade was tiring. It was time to let go. The melody was letting her do the same. For once to stop thinking of false pretenses and be her real self. The flute made its way over the chaos of the city. The constant honking and hawking of the busy city was nothing new. But amidst this chaos was the one striking tune that came in clear and sharp. She made her way following the melody, her ears were there to lead on. Somewhere she was aware of the classes she had to attend, of the time by whic

The Window.. a story

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      The monotonous rut of the daily routine had been broken. The often trodden path seemed unfamiliar to him. The lowly life of a labourer was now insignificant. He would now return to the land he belonged to. All had chosen to stay  behind and remain a part of this lowly life. He had dared to break free. It was scary even at his age to find a way to the bus stop. The one which was his very own key to freedom. The bus stop was deserted, but for a hawker or so. In the distance he heard of the familiar rumble of the bus, which graced the town once a week. Every week he would simply stare at it, just wishing to break free and catch the ride. It had taken him quite long to muster the false courage, he had tucked in somewhere deep to make the decision finally. The bus came to a halt in front of him. He had it all chalked out to finest detail, after all he had been planning for this all his life. He picked up his ragged bundle of belongings and clambered up the rickety bus steps. He glanc

The Complete Woman

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   Amid the latest uproar of "the documentry"(rather not name it, its banned you know) here's wishing the entire world a happy women's day. A day supposed to be a amalgam of Mother's day and the Valentine's day (that's what wiki says). Finally a time when the MBA recruits mastermind advertisements of brands and sell out to the crowd manipulating the emotional upheaval associated with this day. Take a moment to ponder over it. 8th of March made available of a celebration of womanhood. Not trying to be a chauvinist when one quotes the hype created around this day. Neither being judgmental when the so called torch bearers of woman propaganda unmute their tongues. Is this the level we shall now resort to. When every passing moment of your lives should be sprinkled in a sense of subconscious respect for the fairer sex.    " A man who treats his lady like a princess is the proof that he has been raised in the arms of a queen. "     This quote sum

Sensed : A story.

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                  The lake lay quiet and still. The water calm. He by its edge deep in some thought. The legs of his corduroys filled up, right to the knees. The breeze swished passed his naked feet, making its presence felt. The geese were unusually quiet. He could hear the distant rustle of shrubs, swaying. Swaying in accord with the breeze. The cool breeze would gather pace once in a while, sending a shiver down his spine. Somewhere far off a murder of crows cawed their way back home. The rocky surface of the edge wasn't particularly comfortable. Yet it was worth the compromise. To sit by the edge dangling his legs over the edge. The subtle warmth of the setting sun on his face. There was some time before the annoying lady would come. Peace, yes peace was what he found here. The smell of dinner being cooked waffled in from somewhere. Perhaps the hut which stood nearby. But dinner could wait. For this was the time he cherished. A bee buzzed by his ear, interrupting the chain of

A take on Romeo and Juliet

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           Been long since words found a way again. But a spark is all it takes to give it a vent. Romeo and Juliet the eternal story of romance. William Shakespeare, perhaps one of the greatest playwrights ever, would have hardly imagined this tragedy of his to live beyond generations. Such is the following that this magnum opus has inspired hundreds of other works. The time has long gone by when one would call any "inspired" love story to be copied from this epic tale. The tale of two star crossed lovers. The quintessential lover of the Montagues ('rajadis' for the ramleela sync) Romeo and the pretty young lady of the Capulets ('saneras' for the same) Juliet have created the chemistry which has enticed literature buffs alike. And where there is love there has to be a creep of hate. Somewhere it springs and ends with the death of the two lovers. A death which perhaps could have been avoided or maybe not. The debate over this minuscule detail has lingered on