Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Did she surrender, did she not?

Did she surrender? Did she not?
Did she fight, for what she ought?
It had been her miss, is what they thought
Kins needed to hide faces, bad name's what she brought

A girl fond of yellows and pinks,
now seems tangled in greys
And the girl who sang all the recent hits,
seems numb, after screaming for days

Been seven months,
couldn't time help her heal?
Upsetting were their gaping faces,
couldn't they get what she would feel?

And when time seemed to pass, in vain
Begetters thought to act wise...
They shifted her to another city,
thought it would take her by surprise

Lonely, she still was,
all that shuffle pointed null,
begetters planned to get her married,
and bring back colors to life dim and dull

And proposals were sent,
no proposal was to come;
Rejection was that one word,
that would always keep her mum

Nothing felt like before, why life got so hard?
Was it her miss, as they say? She's now counted as a star...
People show their pity faces, faces do deceive
Is there any worth of candle marches, or condolences, would she receive ?

Monday, 6 June 2016

Defiance, as you may call it..


Defiance, as you may call it. It’s really going over my head.

Should I rebel, or should I not? A question, that could only be answered by the wisest part of me, which may exist somewhere on the inside.

I am trying to be free spirited, mentally- 'individualistic', and I need to experiment what I am learning in life. That’s how I am going to grow, learn and even if I am making a mistake, I would be responsible, and therefore, I would learn to overcome issues that hinder my development. Will somebody just stop being my shadow, and stop stopping me from making mistakes? Because, this way, you’re neither saving me, nor protecting me from harm, rather making me vulnerable .How would I, all of a sudden be able to handle things by myself, in an unpredicted future, where I may not know how to? I must learn beforehand, and I must look stronger. For, adversities are surely a part of life, and so are beautiful memories a part. If you are stopping me, from making and living in the beautiful memories of life, you are keeping me from living. Because, that’s what living is all about. Creating memories, living in the present moment, loving and caring truly and wholeheartedly, making mistakes, and learning from them. Allow me to live!

And why should I even beg, and whom should I beg to, to allow me to live?

 Am I not the master of my own life? Are others, maybe even our family, friends, relatives or teachers more deserving owners of our lives?  I ask you sometimes, and you simply deny. Not even a second thought crosses your mind, about I might be right, at some point, somewhere there, where you couldn’t even reach to think of. How could you even judge the limit of my mental reach? How can you not understand, that I can have, a varying philosophy, than yours, since I have read different books, I have met different people, I have been to a different school, and, I’ve always had a way different thought process? You mustn’t, well, compare our thoughts. Since all other thoughts have more or less, varied origins. You can’t question my origin. Nobody knows that their thoughts have emerged from some particular phenomenon. We all are unique, in every aspect, and so are humans so wonderful creatures. Even if you try to convince me, to be as perfect as they are, I want you to understand, that I could learn from them, more or less, but at the end of the day, our uniqueness mustn’t be mocked at. We must remain who we are, with additional qualities, but still, preserving what gives us this unique identity. Don’t ask me to copy them. Because you already know why…You are different and so am I. Is it way too difficult to assimilate?

I am in agony. Agony in me is about, all this. It’s about, how you want me to die. You want me to live, and I understand. But you are unknowingly, asking me to finish myself up. It’s visible in how you always cut my words, and how you never let me speak. And how, when I speak, I am called outspoken. And when I keep mum, I’m good for nothing. And when I state what I want, I am called incapable to handle.  I’m shown exemplary people, somewhere from among us, who might have done somewhat better than us, in a field or two. But I feel sorry for you. I feel you must have, by now understood that no two people are same, neither their capabilities are, nor their interests are. And no people will remain the same after years. We, the human race, have the immense capability to attain greatness, at the most unexpected hour of life. How could you, then underestimate me and then, at another minute, just speak that you know I can do it. I need no sympathy. I need real trust. If you can’t make me feel, that you trust me, I have no space for your fake sympathy. I am not someone who is less-able. I am born with capabilities beyond human measure, and I will show you what beyond really looks like. Keep your seat-belts on, because this rocket is goanna launch very soon.

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Sometimes, life is dull...



Life is dull, where should I say

For there are poets, who only see the day.
The dawns mean a lot, but dusks are a part,
Where should I mention, I’m falling apart…
I am not me, myself I seek,
I’m hidden and I know where, but there’s not a place where I can weep.
And I want an escape, which could blindfold my eyes,
As I need to forget for some time, this girl who alive-dies…
There’s  a reason, there is not,
Maybe I’ll tell you, if you want…
But I can’t say it all to you, except to this heeding sky,
For it has been there for me, to see me weeping till eyes get dry..
And there are fortunes, and people will talk about..
But there are omens too, like the ones that broke me apart…
There’s a fear , that’s infinite…
And what is it, in my heart, I hide..
I’m every ‘someone’, who’s going through this pain,
It’s buried deep inside, and we never let it stain…
We never let it come out, we never let it shout..
Still you’ll ask me why I write it, and still not say what is it about…
Well it’s all for breathing once,
 it is not meant to stay in hearts….
Still I know that time will suck my grief,
 I write for all those who don’t get this escape, and have to bear these times till they pass…

Monday, 11 January 2016

The Collision


Coincidence it is, or is it fate;
that a pollen grain collided with a ball of fire..
And for the first time ever , in its ephemeral life,
flames didn't kill it
s breath, rather gave it life in abundance..

As the ball of fire, so the pollen well knew,
flames could abscond it- in no time for sure...
But happens the reverse , when the ball of fire stays with the pollen,
keeps the distance that 'doesn't kill', rather glorifies its dim-lit world...


When the journey began , the ball of fire told the pollen,
it too had fears, though it never seemed so .
That it knew all well, the power of aqua;
as when the flame is the 'King'- water then is, the 'Ace' of cards..


The pollen realizes, everyone has fears,
and being carried away nowhere by air ,
was as deep a fear, as to the ball of fire,
the fear of losing its flame...


And when the ball of fire, is kept in a dark world- unlit...
it is then, that it learns of its resplendent being,
for in light, there's a life of lesser worth,
than in the darkness -unseen..


So it teaches the pollen, to unleash its odds,
that, maybe somewhere underground,
a darker world needs it, to sprinkle some life,
and to let it know, one's brighter side lives inside...


And the pollen learns, it's more worthy in a barren land ,
'coz even in a land of greens, it's life would have a lot of worth,
but the right place to stay, is where life ceases to exist,
and where you can bring  it back to a new horizon...


For the last words of parting,
the ball of fire teaches to LIVE....
Though the unflinching flames are cursed for- destruction,
it is its life , most powerful and lively,
only when the cursed holocaust waves high- its flames..


And the pollen has now, learnt to live without fears,
for its life is LIFE, the moment it gets carried away by the wind..
And its life BRINGS LIFE, only when it suffocates in the darkness of soil,
in order to breath again and create a new life in that pinch of darkness...


And days pass on, the pollen lives a new life,
now of a hibiscus plant, under the great banyan tree...
narrating its own pollens about A COLLISION,
that brought a living dead pollen to life...



                                                                          (TC and never stop dreaming, even in your dreams!!:-))

Wednesday, 18 November 2015

The Nightingale girl (A fictional narrative poetry)


A melancholy song, she was about to sing;
She was about to sing of her solitude.
But do not confuse, she was all alone, ‘cos that’s not why I mention solitude.
And do not think she was miserable too, hearing of that melancholy song.


For, alone she was is just a myth,
She always lived with a crowd around.
And miserable too, she had never been,
She just got it for her, of all her wants.


But there was a pain, her voice just bore,
And that pain made her a star.
She sang of ‘grief’, sometimes ‘separation’,
And she even sang of the ‘World War’.


There was a rhythm in air- when she sang,
and the songs were still of pain.
It always looked like, there’s some truth in her voice;
teary eyed,  she tried to refrain.


She was paid for the pain, as much as she could bring,
but her emotions never seemed fake.
Everyone knew the Nightingale girl, her life’s fulfilled- they would think.
But no passerby, deep looked in her eyes, no one asked her what made her awake.


Awake when everyone was lost in their dreams,
she would hold a photograph and weep .
Every day she sang, those heart-wrenching songs,
The photograph, in mind- she would keep.


Who was in the picture, a question you’ll ask,
I must tell you it was her family.
Long was the life she had to live,
but together , it had been a small journey.


She lost them all, at a tender age,
they died in the War, in front of her.
Every day she regretted, her hiding behind the bushes,
and thought, how cold she had been, that summer.


Better it was, to be together in heaven,
than to die inside every day, still smile!
She had that all , every day in mind,
And the palace-like home, felt like exile.


She could not recover, though years had passed;
and there were years which would still pass by.
Till someone comes, who could kill the pain,
and without regrets , makes her look to the sky.


Of all the things she bore inside,
made her the Nightingale of the Land.
But of all the fame, and the name she had,
to her still was like the deserts and sand.


But God loved her smile,
and it was long back he saw her do that,
so it was time now to end up her grieves.
And the pangs of sorrows, she was always hit by, would no longer make her sad.


And one day, God sent him,
Him , who would just understand;
the unspoken words, the regrets deep-down ,
he would mend everything with a magic wand.


The wand was of empathy,
It was made of pure heart,
He became a snake vendor for her,
on the first part.


Amused she would be,
was something not to think.
For, she stared with anger,
her eyes-she was not to blink.


And so he became a clown,
and painted his nose red.
And he juggled plates and knifes,
riding a bicycle, and jokes he said.


Long was his show,
but she would not smile,
And when he fell and plates broke,
that’s when she blinked her eyes.


He got up again, he again started things,
brought a monkey, became a Santa Claus ,
but nothing worked- ‘all in vain’, he thought.
She then ran upstairs without a pause.


And he stuck a look, on the picture hung,
that she’d been gazing all the while.
He just understood, she’d lost them all,
and that’s why the Nightingale refrained to smile.


Now he also ran upstairs, her hands he held,
and asked her to come to the terrace for some time.
He told, he had known, the secret of her melancholy;
and why it sounded so real all the time.


Pointing out towards the sky, he told he never had anyone he could fear to lose.
He was an infant found under a tree, by a priest.
And the Church was a place he grew old.
And said ,“separation is an inseparable part, and it always exists.”


“But sheading those precious tears,
cannot bring them down from heaven.
Rather, if they  would see you from there,
they wouldn’t be at peace, looking at your life- painfully woven.”


“So, smile”, he said, ”and they would find peace”,
“For separation is a part that wouldn’t cease to exist”.
And then she smiled, and the heaven smiled along,
And said , “I’ll smile for them every day, this smile I’ll never resist”.


And he said, “I had nothing I could fear to lose”,
And said “ today I fear to lose this smile, and the one who beholds it, forever.
 Will you cross the puddles , and oceans of life with me..?
And we will smile for the heaven together.”


And she said ,” Yes”, now with tears of joy;
and saw the crowd gathered outside her house.
Everyone cried with joy ,as the Nightingale smiled,
every stone, the flowers, even that caged mouse.

Wednesday, 4 November 2015

THE ALCHEMIST (Gist of the novel #Extracts #Lines #Feelings #Favorites )


Friends, today I've decided to sum up a few things that you MUST READ if you haven't ever gone through THE ALCHEMIST by Paulo Coelho, and you have been longing to read it once. Friends , tomorrow never comes, and if you can't take out time from your hectic schedules for an entire novel reading session, you have it RIGHT HERE, the BARE SKELETON of  what Paulo Coelho has conveyed through his Novel. It's the essence of THE ALCHEMIST, not the story, but EXTRACTS , and my personal FAVOURITES throughout . So go ahead...HAPPY READING ( #tags are my favorites ) :)

 

 

 

 

 "#And when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it."

 

 *There is a force that wants you to realize your destiny; it whets your appetite with a taste of success.

 

*The secrets to happiness is to see all the marvels of the world ,and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon.

 

*Beauty is the great seducer of men.

 

*Every blessing ignored becomes a curse.

 

*There was a language in the world that everyone understood. It was the language of enthusiasm ,of things accomplished with love and purpose, and as part of a search for something believed in and desired.

 

*Making a decision was only the beginning of things . When someone makes a decision ,he is really diving into a strong current that will carry him to places he had never dreamed of when he first made the decision .

 

*The closer one gets to realizing his destiny, the more that destiny becomes his true reason for being.

 

*Intuition is a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it's all written there.
( Maktub !! ;) )

 

*People need not fear the unknown if they are capable of achieving  what they need and want.- ALLAH

: We are afraid of losing what we have, whether it's our life or our possessions and property. But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the histories of the world were written by the same hand.

 

*Everything on earth is being continuously transformed, because the earth is alive...and it has a soul. We are a part of that soul, so we rarely recognize that it is working for us.

 

*If you can concentrate always on the present, you'll be a happy man.

 

*Life will be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment you are living right now. 

 

*Maybe God created the desert so that man could appreciate the date trees.

 
*The secret is here in the present . If you pay attention to the present, you can improve upon it. If you improve on the present, what comes later will also be better. Forget about the future , and live each day according to the teachings , confident that God loves his children .Each day, in itself, brings with it an eternity.

 
*To die tomorrow was no worse than dying on any other day. Everyday was there to be lived or to mark one's departure from this world.

 
*Courage is the quality most essential to understanding the language of the world.
 
 
#It's not what enters men's mouths that's evil , it's what comes out of their mouths that is.
 
 
*Remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure. (You've got  to find the treasure, so that everything you have learned along the way can make sense).
 
 
*Life attracts life.
 
 
#Love never keeps a man from pursuing his destiny. If he abandons that pursuit ,it's because it wasn't true love...the love that speaks the Language of the world.
 
 
*One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving .
 
 
*Men dream more about coming home than about leaving.
 
 
*If what one finds is made of pure matter, it will never spoil. And one can always come back. If what you had found was only a moment of light, like the explosion of a star, you would find nothing on your return.
 
*The wise men understood that this natural world is only an image and a copy of paradise. The existence of this world is simply a guarantee that there exists a world that is perfect. God created the world so that , through its visible objects, men could understand his spiritual teachings and the marvels of his wisdom.
 
 
*Listen to your heart. It knows all things.
 
 
*Treason is a blow that comes unexpectedly. If you know your heart well, it will never be able to do that to you. Because you'll know its dreams and wishes, and will know how to deal with them.
 
 
*You'll never be able to escape from your heart. So it's better to listen to what it has to say. That way, you'll never have to fear an unanticipated blow.
 
 
*People are afraid to pursue their most important dreams, because they feel that they don't deserve them, or that they'll be unable to achieve them. Their hearts become fearful just thinking of loved ones who go away forever, or of moments that could have been good but weren't , or of treasures that might have been found but were forever hidden in the sands. When these things happen, the heart suffers terribly.
 
 
*The fear of suffering is worse than the suffering itself. And that no heart has ever has ever suffered when it goes in search of its dreams, because every second of the search is a second's encounter with God and with eternity.
 
 
*Every search begins with beginner's luck. And every search ends with the victor's being severely tested.
 
 
#The darkest hour of night came just before the dawn.
 
 
#When you possess great treasures within , and you try to tell others of them, seldom are you believed.
 
 
#Your eyes show the strength of your soul.
 
 
#If a person is living out his destiny, he knows everything he needs to know. There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve : the fear of failure .
 
 
*The threat of death makes people a lot more aware of their lives.
 
 
*When you're loved, you can do anything in creation. When you are loved, there's no need at all to understand what's happening, because everything happens within you.
 
 
*When we strive to become better than we are, everything around us becomes better, too.
 
 
*Life is really generous to those who pursue their destiny.
 
 
 

Thursday, 8 October 2015

рдоाрдирд╡ рдЧрд▓рддिрдпों рдХा рдкुрддрд▓ा

Hi friends! Today, I'm posting a Hindi poem of mine , which  even brought me the first prize in 'Poetry recitation competition '  last year. I will soon be re-posting this poem with its translations in English, for my readers in other countries. :)
 

 

рдоाрдирд╡ рдЧрд▓рддिрдпों рдХा рдкुрддрд▓ा


рд╕ोंрдЪрдиा рдоाрдирд╡ рдХा рдХाрдо рд╣ै ,
рдФрд░ рд╡рд╣ рд╕ोंрдЪ рд╕ोंрдЪ рдХрд░ рдЖрдо рдмाрддों рдХा рднी  рдЕрдЪाрд░ рдмрдиा рджिрдпा рдХрд░рддा  рд╣ै।
 
 
рджूрд░ рдХрд╣ीं рдХिрд╕ी рднीреЬ  рдоें, рдСрдлिрд╕ рдХे рдХाрдо рд╕े рдлंрд╕ा рдЦреЬा рдкрд░िрд╡ाрд░ ,
рдШрд░ рдФрд░ рдЧाрдбी рдХी рд╕ोंрдЪ рдХो  реЫрд░ूрд░  рдЙреЬाрди рджेрддा рд╣ै।
 
 
рдХрднी реШрд░्реЫ рдХी, рддो рдХрднी рдХрд░्реЫрджाрд░ рдХी рдЪिंрддा рдЙрд╕े рдЦाрдпा рдХрд░рддी рд╣ै ,
рдХрднी рдЕрдлрд╕рд░ों рдХी рдбांрдЯ ,рднрд░ी рдорд╣реЮिрд▓ рдоें рд╢рд░्рдоिंрджा рдХрд░рддी рд╣ै।
 
 
рдпрджि рдоाрдирд╡  рд╕ोंрдЪрдиा рд╢ुрд░ू рдХрд░ рджे , рддो рдЙрд╕рдХा рджिрдоाрдЧ рдкूрд░े  рд╡िрд╢्рд╡ рдХी рдпाрдд्рд░ा рдХрд░ рд▓ेрддा рд╣ै ,
рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕े рдЗрд╕ рджुрдиिрдпा рдоें рд▓ाрдиे рд╡ाрд▓ों рдХी рдпाрдж рдХेрд╡рд▓ реЮोрди рдкрд░ рд╣ी рдЖрддी рд╣ै।
 
 
рд╡े рдмुреЫुрд░्рдЧ , рдЬो рдЕрдкрдиी рдкूрд░ी реЫिрди्рджрдЧी рдЗрд╕ рддुрдЪ्рдЫ рдЖрджрдоी рдХी рдкрд░рд╡рд░िрд╢ рдоें рдЧुреЫाрд░ рджेрддे рд╣ैं,
 рдкैрд░ों рдоें рдЪрдк्рдкрдкрд▓ рдмिрдиा рдЪрд▓ рдХрд░ , рдЕрдкрдиी рдЖрджрдд рдмрддा рд╣ंрд╕ी рдоें рдЯाрд▓ рджिрдпा рдХрд░рддे  рд╣ैं ;
рдЙрди्рд╣ी рдХे рдЪрд░рдгрд╕्рдкрд░्рд╢ рдХी рдмाрдд рдХो рдЖрдЬ рдпे рдзुрдПं рдоें рдХ्рдпों рдЙреЬा рдбाрд▓рддा рд╣ै?
рдЖрджрдоी рдЖрдЬ  рдоाँ -рдмाрдк рд╕े  рдоिрд▓рдиे рдХो ,
рд╡реШ्рдд рдЬрдп рдХрд░рдиा рдХ्рдпों рдмрддाрддा рд╣ै?
 
 
рдХिрддрдиा рд╕ंрдШрд░्рд╖ рдоाँ-рдмाрдк рдХрд░рддे , рдХिрддрдиे рдкрд░िрд╢्рд░рдо рд╕े рдХрдоाрддे ;
рд╕्рд╡рдпं рдЦाрд▓ी рдкेрдЯ рд╕ोрддे , рдкрд░ рдЙрд╕ рд╕ुрдкुрдд्рд░ рдХो рдЕрдкрдиे рд╣ाрдеों рд╕े рдЦिрд▓ाрддे।
 
 
рдкрд░ рдпे рдХुрдкुрдд्рд░ рдмрдиे рд╕ुрдкुрдд्рд░ рдЙрди рдмाрддों рдХो рдЕрдкрдиे реЫрд╣рди рдоें рдХ्рдпों рдирд╣ीं рд▓ाрддे  ?
рдХ्рдпों рдмुреЭाрдкे рдоें рдЙрдирдХा рд╕ाрде рдЫोреЬ рдХрд░ ,рдЙрдирдХो рдоृрдд्рдпु -рджंрдб рд╕ा рдХрд╖्рдЯ рдкрд╣ुंрдЪाрддे   ?
 
 
рдоाрдиा рдХि рдоाрдирд╡ рд╕ोंрдЪрдиे рдоें рдХрднी рдХंрдЬूрд╕ी рдирд╣ीं рдХрд░рддा, рдлिрд░ рд╡ो рдпे рдХ्рдпों рдирд╣ीं  рд╕ोंрдЪ рдкрддा;
рдХि рд╕рдордп рдЦुрдж рдХो рд╣ै реЫрд░ूрд░ рджोрд╣рд░ाрддा।
 
рдЖрдЬ рддो рд╡ो рдмреЬों рдХो рд╡ृрдж्рдзाрд╢्рд░рдо рдЫोреЬ рдХрд░ рдЪिंрддा-рдоुрдХ्рдд рд╣ो рдЬाрдпेрдЧा;
рдлिрд░ рдЖрдиे рд╡ाрд▓ी рдкीреЭी рд╕े рд╢ाрдпрдж рд╡ो рдмрджрдд्рддрд░ рд╕рд▓ूрдХ рдкाрдпेрдЧा।
 
 
рдлिрд░ рд╡рд╣ , рдЙрд╕ рд╡ृрдж्рдзाрд╢्рд░рдо рдоें рдкреЬे-рдкреЬे ,рдЕрдкрдиे рд╕ोंрдЪ рдХी рдХрд▓рдо рдЪрд▓ाрдПрдЧा;
рдпाрдж рдХрд░ेрдЧा рдЕрдкрдиा рдЕрддीрдд , рдоाँ-рдмाрдк рдХा рд╕ंрдШрд░्рд╖ , рдЕрдкрдиा рд╕ंрдШрд░्рд╖, рдЕрдкрдиी рд╕ंрддाрди рдХे рд▓िрдП।
 
 
рд╡рд╣ рдпे рднी рд╕ोंрдЪ рдкрдЫрддाрдпेрдЧा, рдХि  - рдоाрдирд╡ рдЧрд▓рддिрдпों рдХा рдкुрддрд▓ा рд╣ै ,
рдФрд░ рдк्рд░ाрдпрд╢्рдЪिрдд рд╣ी рдоुрдХ्рддि рдХा рдПрдХ реЫрд░िрдпा  рд╣ै।
 
 
рд╡рд╣ рдпे рд╕ोंрдЪрддे рд╡реШ्рдд рд╕्рд╡рдпं рдХो рдХिрд╕ी рд╡ृрдж्рдзाрд╢्рд░рдо рдХे рдХोрдиे рдоें рдкाрдпेрдЧा;
рдФрд░ рдЕрдкрдиी рд╕ोंрдЪ рдХी рдХрд▓рдо рдХी рд╕्рдпाрд╣ी реЩрдд्рдо рд╣ोрдиे рд╕े рдкрд╣рд▓े ,
рдорди рдХे рдЕंрддрд╣ीрди рдХोрд░े рдХाреЪреЫ рдкрд░ рдПрдХ рдЫोрдЯा  рдЕрдХ्рд╖рд░ 'рдоाреЮी ' , рдкूрд░ा рд▓िрдЦрдиे рд╕े рдкूрд░्рд╡ рд╣ी -
рдИрд╢्рд╡рд░ рдХे рдкाрд╕ рдЪрд▓ा рдЬाрдпेрдЧा।
 
                                                         TC , and never stop dreaming, even in your dreams... !! <3

Saturday, 19 September 2015

Butterfly Fly Away

( Written on 2nd February,2015
                                    8:15 pm )





Break the shackles , leave your past
witness all what you come across..

Baby you're a butterfly ,
you don't need to fear the world.

Baby you can fly the highest,
so don't fear taking off a flight

Baby you can make mistakes,
and never regret doing them, as always

Baby, steal the nectar-all what the flower beholds,
and though you are stealing... remember, you ain't  going to jail

Baby do never wonder, if you find no colors in the world,
'coz God sent you to shower them, when the world needs it the most...

Baby you are beautiful, baby you are charming;
haven't you seen? you even make toddlers run for you..

Baby you have seen the world, baby it's so huge;
you are invisible in minutes, but also, in seconds you mesmerize...

You steal the show, baby you're a show-stopper;
Baby you don't need a ramp, the whole world is your stage...

Baby feel it when I say, no boundaries can stop your way;
Baby feel it when I say, you're a butterfly,
MY BUTTERFLY - FLY AWAY.....


                                                  
                                                             

                                                                       TC, and never stop dreaming, even in your dreams.. <3 :)


Sunday, 30 August 2015

The day, as unexpected as others...( a new story written by me)

The day, as unexpected as others

She sat in the Starbucks cafe, sipping her coffee and staring out of the window. The blood-stained knife lay next to her handbag, covered with her blue silk scarf. With every sip of coffee, she tried to release her stress, however, the flashback of events throughout the day, tormented her. She was going through an amalgamation of emotions, and all she needed was, a peaceful time for herself, away from the crowd, to assimilate what had just happened with her.  So, as soon as she was done with the coffee, she wrapped that knife with her scarf secretly, put it in her handbag, paid the bills, and pranced out of the caf├й, in haste. Then she took a cab ,and headed towards her home, which took approximately 45 minutes from the caf├й, and sometimes even more, as per Pune’s  traffic. But the day was not meant to end that way. She had woven a lot of dreams, carried tones of hopes to make her parents feel proud of her. After all, it was her first job interview.

             It was a gay day for Stuti. She was a little bit nervous, but her excitement had camouflaged everything. She had been preparing for a long time for this interview   and that reflected her determination. She received blessings from her parents and a shy ‘best of luck ‘from her younger brother. She was boosted up with confidence now. Stuti was an Engineering student, from Computer Science stream, and she had always aspired to become a Software Engineer. Today, it was her chance, to achieve it all and surely, she had taken her first step, to realize her dreams.

                                                                                                                                                                                                      She reached the company office and waited near the reception, for her turn, as she had been told- she would be called. As she had to wait for quiet sometime, her hands, holding the documents’ file, started shivering and the A.C. near her added fuel to fire. Finally, her turn came and she was called in, with her documents and the required stuff. As she entered the cabin, she greeted the interviewers warmly. It was a panel of two interviewers, sitting in front of her. Now, the interview session began, with her brief introduction. She replied to it flawlessly. After all, this answer was something she had been working on, throughout her final semester. One of the two interviewers, named Shahid Malviya, who barely looked around his early thirtees , got highly impressed listening to her hobbies and creative quotient , and applauded her. Stuti was glad. She was answering most of the technical questions correctly, although, one or two tricky ones that she‘d gone wrong with, were corrected by the senior interviewer   Mr. Deshpandey .

                                                                                                                                                                                                           Now, suddenly, within a blink of her eyes, Shahid Malviya came and sat beside her. She thought, they are trying for a stress-interview , and so, kept that soft smile ‘on’. Shahid asked a personal question to which she kept mum for a while. He asked her if she had a boyfriend. Stuti was perplexed, because of the manner in which he asked her. Sitting just next to her, his bulging eyes got fixed on her awestruck face. He repeated the question a bit rudely. She responded with a ‘no’ .He smiled, and moved his chair closer to her, and she was continually and slowly,trying to push her chair backwards. Mr. Deshpandey, was merely a keen observer of the scene. Stuti ,at the  first place, had been assuming these as a part of the stress-interview. Now  ,Deshpandey uttered something, to her surprise .He said that she had all the apt qualifications and requisite capabilities, to manage the job. He also mentioned, that she had performed exceedingly well in the interview and was ready to work with their expanding organization ,but…..then came a condition. That ‘but’, everything depended on it.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                  Shahid was much more interested to explain the terms and conditions, and the ‘but only if’ condition. Stuti’s heart, which had started singing victory songs for a moment, had now started pumping at a jet’s rate. In her heart, she prayed to God, to give her the courage to cross the coming hurdle and grab her dream job. And Shahid continued to speak,” But only if, you…..I guess you understand what I want to say.” Stuti wanted to clear all her doubts, and so, she said, “No, I don’t.” He was already sitting only one inch farther, and by shifting his chair even closer to her, he wanted to remove even that distance. Stuti had everything very clear in her mind, but, was it too late?

                     As he moved his hand towards her face, she started sweating and stood up, trying to run away. And he, before she could act, twisted one of her hands, ruthlessly, making her sit there again. Her throat got choked, but then, she gathered some courage to shout for help, and he covered her mouth with his hands. She was in tears, because she couldn’t believe it was all happening with her. Then something clicked her, and she found a ray of hope, when she saw the interviewers’ left-over Dosa plate, at the other corner of the table. The plate contained some leftover chuttney , and the ray of  hope ,’knife and fork’. She had to make her hands reach there. Now, she cleverly started acting as if she had fainted, and he released her hands and mouth to see, what had happened. He sent Mr.Deshpandey to bring the private nurse .As he moved out, she acted swiftly. Without wasting her time, picked up the knife, and before he could again take over her, she bit his hands and then wounded him with the knife, in the maximum possible. Saw him busy with his bruises and cuts, and she grabbed her handbag and ran towards the door, and finally got out. He could do nothing, as a number of questioning eyes would stare him and wouldn’t spare him then, as all the staff and other cabins were just outside that chamber .As she walked out of that place, she noticed that she had taken the knife with her in all that rush, and before anyone else could notice, she took out her silk scarf and covered the blood-stained knife, and exit that office building. She saw a caf├й nearby, called as ‘The Starbucks Caf├й’, a place where she could sit and get some relief.

                                                      Now, when she was about to reach home, all this was revolving round and round in her head-‘the expectations, the emotional ups and downs faced in a single day, the fear’. Finally, a strong lady who had emerged from ‘within her’, proudly smiled and thanked God, as she took out partially, the blood-stained knife from  her  handbag and again , kept it inside. She realized it that day, that life is full of unexpected twists and turns, and nobody gets a prior notification about it. So, being ready to face-whatsoever, and change our DESTINY can be one possible option for it. The other can surely be, to surrender to the situations, and then console ourselves lifelong that it was just WRITTEN IN THE DESTINY.

Friday, 21 August 2015

And I totally agree on this..

I regularly go through so many 'words of wisdom' /'food for thought ', and similar stuff...but from the time I've gone through this simple yet 'mind-boggling' quote...
Couldn't resist sharing it:

When God pushes you to the edge, trust Him because only one of two things can happen.
Either He will catch you when you fall or He will teach you how to fly....