Damonlike

For centuries when you are in love with one person. Not exactly with the person but with the shadow of that person and all the way you spend your eternity in figuring out where that person might be. Then you can understand what it is to be Damon. He is a vampire and he has been in love with another vampire named Katherine for approximately one hundred and forty five years.

               For some people love is a trait of fools and the idea of wasting your eternity after it seems too farfetched. Well, it is good in the sense that they are saved from being doomed but it is sad too because then they are devoid of experiencing the most beautiful feeling of the world which is worth sacrificing your every bit. Getting to know Damon, one has to experience it. He is larger than life character from the famous serial “Vampire Diaries”. Everyone is attracted to him and who would not. He is not only the most good looking and stylish vampire but the personality that comes to life through his eyes is worth dying for.

                 But what attract me to him are the similarities between two of us.  The Feeling of abandonment or loss, of betrayal, of hatred and anger, each one of these characterizes us both. As a third person when you look at yourself. Honestly, it drives you crazy and that’s what happens to me when I see Damon suffering.  He is close to my heart not because he is charming in every way but because he is a loner like me and because by looking at him I feel that he is the only one who can understand what it is to be heartbroken.

Humans

Being human is what I think the most beautiful thing. The way we feel about everything. The way we are able to interpret this universe scientifically and imaginatively is splendiferous. Every product that has been produced by human mind has its own beauty and depth. But what leaves me wonder struck is the human’s capacity to imagine, to dream and the humanity. To fill a non living thing with life, to create words that can touch the soul, to discover music that can soothe and to feel immensely and intensely for every living being. Emotions or the sensitivity of mind and heart is what I guess make humans real humans. The eyes brimming with tears to see someone in pain is the most moving site.

              The touch of humans as is said by the ancient philosophers has the most healing effect and that’s why I think different ways of it like touching the feet or joining hands to give regard and hugging to show warmth and affection have their importance.  When the heart is torn into pieces and the blood is in revolt, get a tight hug from someone who really cares about you, it can be your parents or friend. Nothing will be able to console you but that hug can surely do the magic. It gives you confidence and builds a strong feeling that you are not alone. Humanity and the feeling of care is very strong tonic that can heal anybody or any wound.

Lessons of Miss Life.

For a child world defines the word perfect, complete and fun. The world gives voice to the inner squeals of child. It unfolds before him so many gifts and surprises. Life too seems to go smoothly. For him everything is as beautiful as the castle of Prince charming. The sorrows are like small hunches that end for sure. But as the child grows the knife of life gets sharpens. Some gets used to its brutality and become one with it, killing the innocence in others and some becomes victims of life.

                                    Like many others I come under the label of the victims of life. As a child life has no meaning for me. It never existed in my vocabulary. My world was in my books, in television and in the womb of my mother. These three were my real teachers at that time and all of them taught me that there is nothing bad in this world.  That Sorrows comes in the lives of people who are evil but those who are good and are innocent never gets the wrath of God. Every word of their teachings seemed true to me till I stepped out of my house and met the different creations of God. Cautious advice was passed that “never to trust or let others ruin you”. It entered from one ear and was out from another as I saw smiling faces all around me, welcoming me. At once, I became theirs. I did everything to comfort them when they suffered from something and when something troubled I shared everything with them, without knowing that they have no interest in my babble. But as I was getting acquainted with the idea of life, love knocked on my door.

                        Unbelievable, astonishing, crazy, yes, these are the words that define my condition. Love shadowed all my worries. It became my umbrella that saved me from the torrential rainfall of sadness. I forgot everything and cradled my love with utmost care. First love is fresh like fragrant raindrops in a sun shower. It intoxicates your entire being. Everything about it is so strong that even now, the mere thought of it arouses goose bumps in me. Nothing seems impossible and for a girl like me it felt just like what Alexander must have felt after conquering almost all the parts of world. But I neglected the fact that the same feelings are not nested in the bosom of the other side. Have you guessed the end already? Smart. Let me put in words who are still guessing and save the time. What happened was that my world came crashing down. Every belief of mine was bled till the end. The broken pieces are still there, stuck in my heart causing me immense pain every time my heart beats.  This is how Life made me her victim and then the new lesson was learnt “that nothing is good in this world. That sorrows comes in the lives of innocents and evil minds shares the piece of cake with God.”

Winter

                In the womb of hills, the little wooden cottage is empty. No more is the fire kindling there, and no more the bed is warm. Through the window she looks at the snow descending and settling over the pavement while she longs for his return. Winter is the time of year that brings forth the memory of the heights of her love. As the mist descends in the morning, it reminds her warmth of his embrace, of cuddles and of the infinite love. A slight touch of cold wind, reminds her of his silent promise of never leaving her alone. The chilled darkness reminds her of their whispers and of their world that were their alone. The memory of that rose petal dawn fills her heart with sweet pain. It makes her happy because at that time she was someone that she can never be again and it makes her sad because those beautiful moments were very short-lived. Everything that they did is now the ghost that haunts the empty house of midnight.  But at the same time they are very dear to her.  Although, she tries not to think of him, her love put claws in the sky, she kisses the wind. She speaks his name, when she is alone.

             Nothing seems real to her. All she wants is him back in her life. Denying every possibility she chooses one possibility that in everyone’s eyes is impossibility that he will return. But she chooses to put all her faith in her love and believes that he will come back like sunrise piercing the morning’s hazy mist.

the Brunt

The moment you think that you can get on with the life and everything has settled down. When you have everything around you to help you forget the past. You find yourself standing there only, scratching over the wounds, and not letting them to heal. You try to hide your incapability from your well wishers. You portray before them as everything about you and in you is back on rails. While inside you every part is waging war to break through the walls you have put around. You want to show the sores to him, to tell him nothing is back to normal. You want to run to him and hide yourself in his embrace forever. But you know that nothing of this is going to happen, that the person you want the most is the one who wants to see you in this mess the most. You seem tired of daily show. All you want is to lay down all the pretence and tell him you have won. But that would mean that you will brood on ending your life. Yes you are doing it. But just for the people who love you, who want to see you blossoming, you live. You bear the brunt.

AJMER and my friend

Ajmer is going to be seperated from me. again, i will be a loner going on new destinations but the memories of the turbulent times through which i went through is going to remind for ever about the kindness and accepting nature of ajmer. i have done things here which nobody could have expected from me, neither had i but the merciful soil of ajmer took care of the wanderings and flights of my head and heart and managed to give me soft landings. silence and quietitude of this place soothed the wailings of my soul.

            this terrific equation of me with ajmer is all due to my friend who is an embodiment of the characteristics of ajmer. in the winepress of sorrow, he used to guide me through it. this bond between two of us which is being cemented by the bad times is going to last for long. his laugh which is like a golden sunray peircing through the dark inked sky and his eyes that twinkles, opening and closing like stars being born and being quenched. everything of him gives me a concrete satisfaction that i am not alone, that i have one friend who is equal to many. he held my hand when i was abandoned, when i was left alone to drown. i remember how he used to spent hours in consoling me. i will never forget the love and care that he bestowed over me. everything that he did for me is hard for anyone to imagine but in real sense he taught to deal with life, to love and to laugh. for me he is that prince about whom every girl. from the pages of a fairytale he has come and he has really rescued me from the darkness in my life and made me fell in love with his city, with his people. with him world seems to be a completely different place. a place that is rosy and fragrant, where there is all happiness. his presence makes everything seems still and faintly luminous and the air sweet to breathe, as in a thicket drenched with showers. i dont know now how to sum up my feelings. a lot more is left unsaid but i have no idea how to give them a proper form. so i prefer to end here, saying that this place has blunted the knife of life on the wounds of my heart and has made it tolerable to live.

it HURTS

it hurts when you get to know that every person to whom you turn to is ready with a stake to drive it through your heart. everything that you look up to is going to come right in front of you crashing. i have been through this alot more to end my lifetime and all those who have hurt me is going through their best times. right now i am hearing from those who pretends to care about me. there is something happening to me that the higher power and my past love wanted uit to happen to me. my heart is now being dried of all emotions and sentiments and i am just like a perfect scrapebook for the people to write anything they want. they all have used me and they are using me as if i am a toy of amusement for them and the fun part of all this is that i am letting this to happen to me because i want to be loved even when all i get is opposite of it but even the fake ones gets hold on to me and i let myself go with it despite of knowing that all i am going to get more backs turned on my face and more wounds on my heart. nothing have changed, not even a bit. the primal reason for my exitence has abandoned me. and now everyone is waiting my heart to explode.

down the memory lane

beneath the baked bowl of sky, he was standing outside the car and my heart was as clean and hungry for love as a monsoon morning in the gardens of Malabar. he blinked once, twice as if severing the thread of daydream with his thick lashes. as he was about to enter into the car, his friend said, "hey, go back, to your girl."as my heart squealed in happiness, i saw him pushing the canoe of love and passion for me into the sea of my expectations. he took me in his arms the moment he got in. the car began to move while all the gates of passion opened. we loved widly, madly and ferociously. i saw the colour of his eyes changing to that of sand, in the palm of your hand, a few minutes before the sun sinks below the sea. i fell fearlessly into my fate. we both got intoxicated in eachother; a loveliness filled our eyes, and crushed us into silent, unbreathing awe. the moment came when we had to fall apart, a grave expression passed across us like a cloud shadow sinking over smooth hills, on a sunny day. i calmed my heart by saying that its just the beginning without knowing that for him it is the end.

the brooding

When I look people hurting those I love, I end brooding over their deaths by my own hands. But like hamlet I fail in executing them and I swear to god that’s too frustrating. I have been reading Rohinton Mistry’s short stories “tales from ferozsha bag” and I found myself in the shoes of the characters that he portrayed. I feel what it is to lose someone you love, I feel the pain of that son and father who metaphorically are miles away from each other, I feel what it is to accept the blunders that your children make. The emotional side of every person present in those pages of the stories was felt by me because I think I have seen them around and because I think I am one of them. The precipitate of all the broodings is that The frustration, the despair and the guilt breathes in every soul around, that There is no redemption and that there is nobody who knows how to seek it. It is heart ripping when you have to live with the past that breathes in your present.

                                           Most of the people feel that they have no emotions that they are the most practical ones who know how to live in the present but actually they have those unquenched desires peeping through their hearts every now and then. And what they end up doing is weighing them all with their mind's whisperings and hushing them up in the far corners of heart. That is pathetic. they cry over their pillow, at nights. They carry on with their lives, fighting every moment with their unsolved miseries. My heart also, one of the trapped, feels the same. The memories of past recedes and returns like waves moving on the great ocean of the heart. That hug, which told me the insecurities and desperation of his heart, is unforgettable. It said loud that I don’t want life without you. That moment is engraved in my heart so deeply that all the betrayals and knife like words seems nothing. Memories like this is unbearable to all of us, we pretend to smile, to let the waves of time erase the memories that once blossomed our hearts. We all lie to our own selves and we all are demons inside our hearts who wants to break through all the societal norms. But many of us fail to gather the courage to break them and fail to understand that there’s nothing wrong in achieving what you want the most. But everyone has their own reasons – one chooses to live with the gnawing past and other is forced to live with gnawing past.

being with SPIDERS

From past few days I am having these uncanny encounters with spiders. This eight legged insect pounce over me from I don’t know where. The first encounter was very weird, I was on my bed, reading a novel, and then from a thin air it descended sheeewwwwww paaatt. I think she liked being on my book because she sat there with her eight legs spread on the yellow page of my novel. She was yellow in color too with disproportionate legs and she looked helpless, alone and so small. So I thought not to kill it but let her enjoy in my room. I tilted my book from which it slides on my floor, smilingly; I went to open the window when I saw another spider staring back at me. Oh man, she looked vicious but I thought to ignore her presence. I was feeling sleepy as it was half past two in the morning. In the morning came the shock of my life. Aaaaaaaaah, I saw the skin of my shoulder swelled and red. I ran here and there, whole day, not knowing what to do than everything became blurring.  

                         After fainting, I woke up directly in the morning. Darning needle in the small horns of the morning, I saw my mobile tootling out. I found that it’s my friend calling. I almost yelled on him and had the feud on. I told him to take me to the doctor immediately. My brow was sicklied over with the pale cast of thought. At last he came and we went to the doctor. It was strange, odd, and eerie and everything that makes your heart totters. The office we entered was empty. But soon a man came; he had over baked oiled skin that was shinning under the sheen of yellow bulb. His outer crust was indeed of a nature to cause those beholding it to rock back on their heels with a startled whistle. He asked me to speak about my problem. Instead of speaking I preferred to show my problem with teary eyes. “its getting bad. Take these medicines and apply this ointment and meet me after three days. “He said while scribbling over a piece of paper. I understood at that moment that this is the end of all the kindness that I had for spiders.

The Man I Love

a hole inside your heart, a vaccume inside your soul, sometimes enlarges so pathetically that you try to escape every moment that brings you face to face with it. so, to fill that hole, that vaccume we restores to many devices like we hang out with stupid emptyheaded people, believing that they really care for us, that they are with us because they really want to be with us is fooling our ownself, because leaving two or three people or none, nobody cares, nobody does care about what you feel. this mirage that people we love do love us too is like hoping that one day your miseries will end forever. but here i am going to tell you about a person who has trained me to keep my world of fantasy intact and to live every bit of it.

one day, when i closed my eyes, he was there, standing. he was wearing black shirt and black trousers. his skin was in complete contrast of his shirt. his fair complexioned skin and his large, dark grey eyes that were studying my face with open amusement. it was quite strange to me. i could feel my heart pounding hard and my cheeks burning red under his foliant gaze. it seems, as if, all hidden contents were leaking and going out to him through the link of our eyes. no words did pass in that meeting, but we became friends and we kept meeting. it was beautiful to know that sometimes words means nothing, that sometimes you need not have to say anything to make another person understand. i was always curious about what he thinks about me because i had never met a person like him before. his smile is very fascinating to me, there is something in his smile - a kind of mischievous exuberance, more honest and more excited than mere happiness - that pierced me to the heart. The warmth of his hand upon my face was a delicious feast. But, suddenly my mother came,”wake up, its too late.” Again my dream was broken. Ya, it was a dream. It was a dream of a man I love which is going to be like this.

The Mysterious Meeting.

Udaipur has been a city that I love the most. The reasons are many and one of them is that it ignited the power of imagination in me. as a child when I used to look in the eyes of my father when he told us about his adventures and misadventures, I was hardly able to find the way back. He is a great storyteller and with his skills he helped me create my castle of dreams and fantasies brick by brick. I vividly remember, sitting on his lap, under the moonlit sky, listening stories of Rajas and Maharajas. The stories of many historic battles. With all his stories and narratives he nurtured the sensitivities of my heart and head.

                        One day he took to me to Pervez kaka’s home. My dearest uncle who loves children profoundly. His long nose and big round spectacles over the most kind and warm eyes are the most cuddling features in him. also, he is very aristrocratic and very british in his manners. When I used to go to his house I always got the feeling of britishness in the air and I loved it. With all the sophistication, he has a grand golden heart, that makes him the star of not only my life but of every kid’s life. Oh, I am diverting from main point which is the mysterious meeting  and it happened with pervez kaka’s mum. I was very small at the time of our "mysterious" meeting. But his mum was very old and wrinkled. She took me and my brother in her room which was dimly lit and had a sandalwood fragrance hung around the room. With her ancient hands she took out from the creaking old wooden cupboard huge books. Oh, I still remember that mishchivious sparkle in her eyes. She looked like a old queen from an old portrait that was about to pass on her most treasureous antiques. She came towards us, smiling and opening a whole new world of fairytales. They were beautiful and lively. With each page came the image springing before our eyes. We both were speechless. I knew at once that she will never let go of these books, who could? But to our surprise she said “take them with you. Read them and remember me.” we both stared at her unbelievably. When I held them in my hands I knew that one more reason to be an ardent lover of udaipur is added.

my best friend

So she called up. My so called best friend called up. Like a perfect bitch she started the usual crap. As nothing has ever happened. I know god is smirking in heavens as he feels victorious now. I can almost hear him boasting “see, I did you a favor , I took away all the lunatics from you. You should be grateful.” Ok, yes, I am grateful now, when I have seen the outcome of your deeds. Really people, god may have been merciless and cruel in just taking all that I had, but he is a saviour. He knows what kind of kid I am and in what disgusting situation I was in. he saw me wasting time in catering the idiotic friends who don’t have anything in the world to do but to aimlessly be obssessd with how they look and dying for the person who never ever have experienced any kind of emotion. God was brutual but he saved my life. He has taught me to see the difference in me and others. And now, I can clearly see that, all that I craved for once, is all bullshit. I hate every bit of it. The life I am living now is entirely different. I am living as a person I really am. I am proud of myself, that I have gone long way and have come up all with feathers in my hat.

                       I am miserable. But only when I look back and see what I did. What blunders I made. Things around me have changed. I am in the womb of ajmer, thriving and blooming. I have people that are real and loving. They are few in number but are extremely dear to me. the readers must be inquisitive why did I wrote this. The answer to this is that bad times comes not for bad purposes but to prick away the thorns and to bring you near  to yourself as it happened to me.

LIFE

the faces. the mind. the hollowness of every soul. everything around full of pretence, full of superficiality that it almost drains one's existence. i am far away from all this. no more a sentimental and emotional cow. i have come a long way and with whatever little experience in my life, is fully geared up to ignore the presence of the predators called humans. when i look back now, all i see is a useless girl trying to reach out for others. really, it was stupid. i was stupid in helping people get over their messsed up lives. its all over now. with no ripples in my life, its flowing smoothly without people and without god. recently i got hold of my old friend. i was happy that atlast i talked to someone from my past bad days. but after hanging up i realised that her voice was like a death knell and i dont want her neither she wants me. another day i was musing and found my mind hovering over what the "famous guy" in my life said to me that "one day you will realise that what i did was for your own good.that i left you because its for your own good self." a piece of crap. i agree, an easy way to run away, when courage is demanded.

life has been a great teacher. always eager to seperate me from all the "fake people". i am thankful to her for being so kind and cordial. with all the trials and tribulations, she has turned me into a tough girl who doesnt even give a damn when someone comes crying for help. i would like to raise my glass of tears for a toast to my dear teacher Life to whip me, to take away all my happiness, to take away all the people whom i loved and to take away all the feelings. i thank her to make out of me a complete cruel brute.

an excerpt from my diary

Its strange, I have become so allergic to people that unintentonally the careworn and loving people get hurt by me. surely, I have become malicious, melancholic and a monstor. Slowly and slowly,  I am showing gates to all those who wants to make me happy. These deeds of mine cause me pain too but times have sucked all sympathy and humanity from me. I have become a cruel brute, somewhere inside my heart the evil has grown so much that I cant avoid hurting others. The moment my friends approach me, my heart crouches in the corner, putting forth the shield. I am just unable to forget all the betrayals, how everyone showed their backs when I needed them so much. even when I try to trust, my past glares down all the courage I muster. I don’t know why its happening, why its bothering me so much. Its not that I don’t want any person in my life. The two three friends which have stuck to me through all my troubles, I do want them but my heart just repell every feeling. Everything seems like a lie, all the promises, swears, and their care. I don’t know why I make them victims of all my hatred and anger. Why I punish them for something they never did. Its strange

Rockstar UNPLUGGED

Recently, I was watching the new music vedios of rockstar on youtube and found some criticisms of it on the basis that rehman was not able to do justice to the rock music. I have myself heard rock music and had tried to follow it. So, somehow I have a little knowledge about it. Taking everything as a whole, I think Imtiaz ali has intentionally chosen rehman over others and rehman too, having sense of the taste of indians have put music  which doesn’t exhibit hatred, anguish or frustration but is more that gives the feel of completeness and cravig for the supreme. Also, he has shown through his music the spiritual journey of the lead character. As soon as the music sways in our ears, the soulfulness of it is felt. The enjoyment that is produced makes one restless, in the sense it inspires one to have ethereal aims.

                                        Ranbir kapoor has surpassed all the bars and has reached to a pedestal where he can be counted among the great heroes and the efforts of imtiaz ali behind it can be seen.  Ranbeer is almost like ascetic in the movie. He is just like a “modern saint” going through the narrow lanes, exploring and discovering the self, through music. the listless dressing and the monk like expression all the time, away from the world but still a part of it is well portrayed by him. The picturisation also heightens the effect that the director is trying to build up. I specifically liked the picturisation of quwalli and the song “jo bhi main”. Speaking individually of them, quwalli is composed in a manner that the feel of spiritualism can be easily felt by a common man and ranbeer in the song “jo bhi main” appears as fully in the spirit of it. The feel of the song is nicely carried by him, i.e; a sufi, fully in the halo of his god, unaware of the eyes, unaware of the effect he is creating in the minds of people. All in all everything, leaving the story (as I dnt knw) is heightning the feel that imtiaz ali is intending at.

Garib Nawaz

Here, I am trying to describe that can never be described. But I feel the want to share the experience that uplifted me, that nihilated the very sense of my being. I know words will fall short in giving expression that is so much divine. I remember my first visit to Dargah Sharif, it illuminated my soul in a way that whenever my heart suffers from various dips, it visualises in front of me. I remember how I didn’t want to go from there and how I ardently wished the time to stop. But I had to leave that pious place but intitutively I knew that I will come back. And Garib Nawaz did call me. I went for my post graduation in ajmer. I felt extremely fortunate to be there at last but still I was far away from him. All the tragedies happened to me there and My life became all topsy turvy. All the while I kept praying to him. I kept seeking for his blessings. I knew that he is troubled by my tears and soon he will do something and he did do something, hebestowed me with one of his angels who just guarded and guided me through. Above all he became the “goodest” friend of mine.

                                        Everything was cured as far as it could be. Now, I wanted to meet my real guardian and rescuer. The opportune moment came most unexpectedly. I was there, unbelievable, I was there and before my eyes was Garib Nawaz. Nothing existed, nothing at all, everything was complete. I was standing there desireless and fearless. My hands clearly trembled as I joined them in front of him. again there was the feeling of surrendering myself there and never to move a bit from there. Serenity and awe descended on me. I could feel his love and blessings on me. The tears blurred my eyes and I felt peaceful. The departure was painful while the gifts of his limitless fatherly love consoled me and I know that his generous and kind soul is going to be with me,  always watching and taking care of me.

twenty six words...

 His msg:

If I had ever hurt you by my deeds or words…knowingly or unknowingly…I am sorry from bottom of my heart…hope you forgive me…

My reply:

Apologising in twenty six words.

Summing up three years in twenty six words.

Showing the value of my love in twenty six words.

Is it going to bring back my innocence.

Is it going to bring back my dreams.

Is it going to release me from all the pains.

So easy it is to say sorry.

So easy it is to say I didn’t mean it.

So easy it is to say move on.

You are admired for leaving me in pieces.

You rised in the eyes of “your” people.

You are praised for following the words of your “dear ones”.

Temme, is your sorry going to bring back all that I lost.

If yes then I will forgive u.

If yes then I will take all and live with it.

Disillusionment:

India at a distance seems to be a country full of mystery and beauty. With  diversity in its every strand it successfully ropes in lots of admirers but when one comes closer to it. Then, comes an utter disillusionment. Seen from the closer quarters, one is able to see the cracks in the image of this ancient land. One can call it a perfect tourist country, as the conditions and situation fills the hearts with amusement and wonders. The mismanagement and the variety in food, religion,color, caste, dress,tongue and what not presents a very unique picture to an outsider. Its just not give amusement to a foreigner but it also gives him a realisation that  “nothing is like home”.

                         Still, there are some people who have stayed back and are enjoying the “Indian circus” daily. Corruption, poverty, carelessness and hatred towards eachother fill their souls with awe. They feel amazed to see this country surviving though crippled but still breathing. Others, who prefer to leave it, feels pity for the human race in general, living in india. They also witness not “unity in diversity” but “divisions in diversity”. The only unity they see is in hatred towards eachother’s religion. Not only in religions but also in castes and subcastes. Everything they once had imagined comes down falling. They thought of india to be developed but what they find instead  is potbellied baked merchants and buisnessmen in jeans and tshirts, feeling proud in calling themselves modern but in reality are still chained in old age superstitions and in safeguarding their family name.

                In a nutshell, india is a perfect example of disillusionment and so are its people. For the sake of family pride and name they can stake the lives of any number of innocents. It is the country full of  strange ideas and ideal. Still, it’s the country of my origin and I love it with all its minuses and pluses.

The Perforated Sheet

Aadam Aziz never had the chance to see Naseem. He saw her only in parts i.e, through a perforated sheet. He sees his future wife's face for the first time on the same day, World war I ends. this chapter called "Perforated Sheet" is present in the "midnight children" written by Salman Rushdie is a metaphor, told Anita mam. She said that it is a metaphor used to describe the human perception. Analyzing it further, she said that we, humans have the tendency to look at everything from our own mind set. Our approach to take on challenges and circumstances is circumscribed to our narrow outlook. We are unable to understand the whole design or the structure of god's plan. just as Aadam looked his future wife in parts, we also tend to love others in parts.there is never a complete or whole view of person that etches us to them.

On personal level, when i read it. To me it appeared simply an introductory note to the main characters of the novel. The explanations that mam gave came like revelations. There are so many underneath meanings in every corner of the novel that it became impossible for inexperienced people like me to unravel them on our own. Under the guidance of mam we were able to collect the embedded jewels of the novel. She began by telling us that the whole novel is in narrative form and that there is more than one reality. It is like a universal story. It begins in Kashmir which is depicted in its past glory, idyllic just like the Eden garden. Aadam, represents Adam and Naseem represents Eve. So it is another version of the story of the very first man and woman. Saleem who is the narrator and the protagonist, quintessentially represents India which is a centre of so many philosophies and beliefs.

A visit to PARADISE....

When he took me to his place, the gates of heaven were opened, the fragrant atmosphere gripped my heart. Through the narrow lanes when he guided me, I felt free and protected. His face shone like dewdrops in the first winter night on a young rose bud. The brows knitted in care heightened the grace of his face. He held me with his eyes and unfolded the wings of happiness of my heart. At the threshold of the pious land I felt my soul crumbling. beauty and purity reflected, wherever I turned my face. After getting the blessings when I moved in his house, He greeted me with the bowl full of relishing kheer. Every sorrow of my heart seemed to have taken a flight. I was immensely happy and contented. The peace that I had experienced there, has left an everlasting impression on my heart and is going to act as a buffer against the harsh realities of life.

U may be far away...

You may be far away, enjoying and laughing with your family and friends.

you may be busy with your work and completing your projects.

throwing me and my memories from your conscious mind,

you may have got "new" love to love,

you may have got new moments to cherish

by burning all the signs of my existence in your life

you may have got the whole world in your fist and enjoying the attention

you may have broken my images in your heart into pieces

but one day or one moment or once in your life

voice of your chained heart will overpower.

the voice of your heart ll peirce your reasoned mind

and the walls of your soul will resound with my name

over the ruins of mine, on which you once built your empire,

they will rise and haunt you wherever you will go or reside,

the scars, the hurts, bruises, pains or burns or bruises

that you gifted me, will get mouths, and scream in your ears

you may not know what wrong you did,

you may not know the reasons of my unshed tears,

but sooner or later you will face them staring in your eyes,

i will not let the pain to go or wounds to heal,

but i will sit and wait for the "day of judgement" to come!!!!

Jai Hind!!

"Nanha munna raahi hu..
desh ka sipahi hu
bolo mere sung Jai Hind Jai Hind"

In my childhood days, this was one of the songs that used to fill me with immense patriotism for my country. but gradually when the pitiable condition of my nation and my incapability to do something descended on me, I preferred to fell back, to let the things be as they are. I adopted an attitude of turning my back to every wrong happening in my country because I knew that my voice like most of the times will be subdued.One day, I unthinkingly opened a newspaper and at the very front page saw a small man in white kurta payjama with right fist in the air. a volley of questions stormed my heart. I scanned the article quickly and found that this man is named "Anna Hazare" who is spear heading the anti corruption movement against the government. Now I looked carefully at the picture.Deep and honest pair of eyes were set in either side of a flat but concrete nose. I immediately took out my laptop and googled information about him. I found out that he has completely reformed a village. It is the true portrayal of Shelley's utopian wold. Everything is perfect in Hazare's village. watching and reading about him and his moral deeds, a hope is kindled that if people of my country will tread in his footsteps, forgetting about all the divisions among themselves than glory that we deserve will dawn on us.
Like many, I am standing in support of Anna Hazare and is all ready to stake my life for the welfare of my country. For me he is the reincarnation of Gandhi ji and I know that he will wade off the evil from our country. but now situations are worse, Indian politicians are ruthless barbarians, much more cruel than Britishers. I dont know when will everything turn out to be in common man's favor but the thing i am sure about is that if this revolution is sustained for long time than that day is not far when we will be happy to see our youth preferring India over other countries.

Story of a shoe..

I was gifted to him on his birthday.
proud was i of my pure white color,
as proud was he to wear me,
i was liked and admired by my owner.
he took me wherever he went,
i caressed his feet with my soft insides
made all his pains mine.
but with time my whiteness dulled
with it my image in my master's eyes dulled
i tried to look good
but he said, "no more i can wear you"
i saw disgust in his eyes for me
"what will people say, if i l go with you"
i was thrown out,
as i was worn out
picked up was i from dustbin
stiched up was i from thead and pin
i was made ready again, but with a little change,
my insides were hardened and my outsides were ruined...

A BLESSING...

I have you now, now I don’t need anyone

Life dragged and boiled me

But you healed and cured me.
Love is now long gone, I said

But you said you don’t need it or anything else.

I abused u, cursed you, hated you,

Still you saw in me something that other could not.

When all my “so called” best pals left me,

you stood beside me and gave me strength

You became father, friend, and lover.

 And slowly plucked all the thorns from my soul.

How to thank you, I don’t know.

All I know is that you are a blessing in disguise

That I will keep in my heart for forever…

I LOVE the way you..

As I cry I love to see you smile over me from a distance.

It hurts but I love the way you lie to me.

It hurts to be alone but I love the way you left me to rot.

I love everything about you even when the reason of my pain is you.

I loved the way you broke my heart and went away smilingly, while I was writhing in pain. 

I loved the way you said that “its not hard to leave you”. 

I loved the way you toyed with my body and left it when you got bored of it.

I love the memories that have become a bed of thorns.

I love every bit of it. I love to think that I was wrong in loving you.

But the only thing I hate is the word "love"!!

Romancing with Dance

Sweat and high adrenaline rush were there at  my outer crust, reflecting the condition of my heart which was pumping hard. the music was cascading as i was nearing the gates of dance hall. the moment i put my first step into it, the heat and the beat welcomed me. i bowed down and touched the floor in reverence. in a flash of a moment i heard my name resounding in the hall. it was the turn of my group to perform. excitement, fear, breathlessness and intoxication were juggling and bubbling in me. standing in the front of the crowd that had eyes all hooked on me that gave me goosebumps. but as the music began, i felt it flowing inside my veins, relieving me from all the shackles of unspoken miseries. the movements and the rhythm transcended my soul from my body and soared it above.
                                For a span of time, the feel of self was gone. i was enticed by the equation of me and dance. flirting with the movements, romancing with the music. as the the music slowed down i felt betrothed to dance. the loud applaud around me was blazing, the maddening crowd seemed to celebrate my marriage.

Khaana Khazana

Puchka

Cooking is my new hobby. From very childhood it has fascinated me. I
have seen many things boiling, frying and cooking on burner and the
sound of them has become a melodious music for my ears. For many years
I have been following the different cooking styles of different
nations. The decorations, style, cleanliness and presentations of
varied dishes in foreign countries have influenced me heavily. But,
being an Indian diehard foodie I love the food of my country. India is
a huge country and every part of it has its own delicacy. the other
thing which is unique and special of this country is the practice of
vegetrainism which is followed by many. So many dishes are prepared by
lots of spices and variety of vegetables. There is a burst of flavours
in mouth when one eats puchka, made of thin layer of white flour. The
water in it is made by mixing jaljeera, dhaniya, kaala namak. The base
of cooking any kind of vegetable is same. It consists of some
vegetable oil on frying pan, when it is little hot spices like
asafetida, bay leaf, cumin seeds, coriander seeds, little turmeric
powder and salt as per your taste. Indian cooking is very theatrical.
Lots of dances, noise and colors can be seen in one pan. To this
mouthwatering mixture is added our vegetables.
                              The substitute for meat in India is
paneer. It is a fresh cheese common in south asia. Varieties of dishes
are made by adding mixture of lots of spices into it. The rustics have
their own specialties. The earthen burner is used to cook the food
that has cow dung or wood as a fuel. This specific technique escalates
the taste and fragrance of the dish. The whole atmosphere is enough to
increase your hunger with leaps and bounds. Cooking is an art that
ties the whole globe in a tight knot and also its like a crazy lover
that stands on the tips of his toes to see you smile. All in all, I am
falling ion love with art or science. Everyday experimenting and
exploring the magic of cooking!!
- Devaditya Juneja

The GHOST of my past.

As the ring slipped into my finger, I realized that I have a new life now. When I looked at the smiling faces of my family and friends, I felt comfort. I was the centre of attraction with the man who was soon to become my husband. With all the flowers, food and celebrations my wedding was over. I knew that now the turbulent and testing times of my life have gone. I was on the road to explore new city, new people and new house. Soon, I was in my husband’s room, ready to explore him and me. But the moment I was in his arms I find that I don’t belong here, that I don’t feel anything. Shutting the door of my ribcage hard on the face of my heart, I put a successful show of pretensions. I let the things take place at their own pace, doing everything mechanically. Lying on bed, I found my eyes burning and felt a little tear rolling down. Slowly with laden foot, I went towards the mirror hanging on the wall; I looked at my face in the mirror and saw him staring at me and smiling. I saw my fingers resting on the lips of my lover and then the wings of memories grew at my soul that took me to the night when we were in each other’s arms, caressing each other and basking in the warmth of our bodies.  “Not again”, I said to myself. “Its all over.” but as I was draping the saree around my waist, I felt someone breathing into my body and whispering in my ear, “wear me with your saree”. Fighting back my tears, I went to the kitchen. Here, I forced myself to smile and talk, eat and drink. I was to cook the lunch that day, so I was doing it. Soon there was my husband, pulling me towards him, he said, “Let’s go to the movie today”. I simply nodded.

                                 In the theater, he held my hand. While all the time I was saying to myself, “why are you not feeling anything? Feel it, like it.” Nothing happened. All I felt was the sweat on my palm. Driving back to our home, I realized that there is no escape. I realized that I am going to be haunted by the ghost of my past till I breathe my last.

Twins..

“Twins!!...are they twins?” said me, a tiny girl of four years
bubbling to see my two cousin brothers. They were large for my little
hands to hold, one was like a small cute white rabbit and other was
like a pretty little Indian girl with long eye lashes batting at me
with honeyed complexion. I fell in love with both at once. After some
years when I came back to my maternal aunt’s house I found them both
sitting and playing with each other. They were grown into round cans
of pure butter, soft, round and cute. I was beyond me when I saw them.
I played with them whole day and night. I have no other thing but to
make them giggle. They were like cotton balls clad in cutest pair of
clothes. The most lovable quality of them was their notorious nature.
Once I remember I went to stay at their house for some days and at one
afternoon I was left in charge of them as everyone was out for some
work. Three of us were sleeping nicely and calmly or I guess I was
sleeping nicely and calmly when I felt a soft thud on my back. I
slowly turned to my left to find my two little brothers entangled in
fierce fight. I didn’t stop them immediately, instead I observed them.
They were strangling each other and that too very silently, who was at
death end and who was at winning was hard to make out.
                                They were cute in every manner. I
loved the way they used to pamper me. They loved me so much.
Everything was of me, for me and by me. They have given me so many
memories to cherish. Often I find myself looking at those little eyes.
Everything is so vivid, clear and dear to me. These are the only good
moments I don’t want back because what I have today is no less. I am
still the bossy elder sister to them who is loved and pampered even
more. Both are the strong and reliable pillars of our family as they
have grown up into two mature, responsible and loving boys..

Pottermania....

What makes harry potter so popular? Is it the magical world or Hogwarts or extraordinary in the ordinary element. I think every bit of these have contributed to its popularity. But the last one is the main ingredient that has grasped the hearts of millions. Harry potter is the name of that part of us that is weak and that craves for love. he is not a character that is a part of some far fetched imagination but  is the portrayal of an ordinary person that  like us is the victim of circumstances. It is the character with which one can relate. Harry has molded step by step, holding our hands, he has shown us his own inner self which anchors us with him. We experience what it is to lose dear ones, to be hated, to have good friends and to be in love. 

                                   I remember when I first met harry potter. Our friendship began with “harry potter and the chamber of secrets”. The first couple of lines were enough to glue me to it, till last. It was an amazing journey. Every line was punctuated with emotions. Characters were larger than life. Hermoine, Ron, Ginny, George, Fred, our own dear harry and many other. The whole canvas of characters seems to embrace us. Some characters are evil too which gives edge to the emotions. But the most admirable lot, Harry and his close friends, steals the show and the feature that makes them out stand all is their simplicity. When I finished the book, I wanted more and than I got all the books. And each book was highly gripping. I felt every lows and highs of harry. The more reality was poured by the visualization of the series. Like every potter’s fan, it was a gift to me. Watching your hero on screen which only lived in lines was amazing. Now as the end of this mighty phenomena called harry comes near, I feel my heart breaking. But as the end is inevitable, I have to accept it. But I know harry potter, my friend and my love is never going to die. He will live in my heart and in the hearts of millions of his fans. The books and movies have breathed into him and in his world an immortal breathe. I will continue experiencing the same thrill and fun by rereading   the books and watching the movies.

                     

Garden of Happiness...

Right now I am sitting between the shades of two huge plants in my garden and wondering why I left sitting in the densely green garden and hearing birds and reading books in the womb of variety of plants and trees, then the number of things stormed my mind. First it was a merciless break up and then the feel of finding no one to listen to me. After a long time, with the kind aid of books, I surged up from the well of sorrows. I was again me, who needs only nature and books for company and enjoyment. I realized that this world is not to be pitied. All human beings (leaving the exceptions ) are the most repelling. Lets not hop far away from the main point. close to my right is a tree which has a nest on which a pair of birds is busy gossiping about me. I remember when I was small, I used to sit under the shade of huge bougainvillea, on the green carpet of grass with books surrounding me, when my parents used to go for work. Enid Blyton was my favorite writer, then. Time to time, I used to look at the plants and trees and enjoy the silence, embedded only by the sweet chirpings of the birds. I loved the voice of whistling thrush.

           There are so many colors red, pink, orange, yellow with the dominant color being green. This is a majestic color, whenever I gaze at it, my eyes feel like resting on a soft pillow. The sky is now turning from blue to orange, at some spots its pink. The sun is slowly sinking. Birds are going back to their nest. My birds are already at home, sitting quietly and cuddling into each other, with an occasional glance at my stirrings. Children are going back to their house after playing cricket. My bugging neighbors have also come. Avoiding their eyes, I slip in my house. Everything is so still, so silent, so perfect that any kind of unwanted voice, that of humans and his machines seems to tense my nerves. At a distance, I hear a calf calling his mom. Each and every element of nature is retiring and saluting the sun who is bidding adieu with a promise of returning back.

ALEXANDER, the Great!!!

“Hail to thee great Alexander!” was the only sound resounding all around. All the warriors were in the mood of celebration. There was wine and food everywhere. Every warrior was rejoicing their successful entry to the Indian subcontinent. Alexander was sitting under the shade of a mango tree and was gazing at the nest of a bird, turning to his general, he said “Craterus, I want to meet the locals of this land because if we desire to make our hold strong on this country than we should first understand and know everything about this land. What do you say?” “Yes, this is a wise thought, so when and how do you want to start?” “Let’s go now”. He said and stood, his robes glittered and his eyes shone as the Indian sky up above them. “Peculiar country is this, so many colors on everything and fragrances in the air” said Alexander to Craterus as they were marching with the huge army , exploring the conquered land. To every face on which his eyes fell, there was fear. This was not new to him but he seemed to enjoy it. He knew that these people are captured in awe of his might and power. It made him feel above all, his chest seemed to double with pride. While riding on his horse and observing the lifestyle of the people around he went down to his memory lane and wondered how much he has conquered. In his mind he had the map of all the lands that were in his fold now. It has grown beyond all the measures. Suddenly his eyes fell upon an ancient looking man in deep sleep but seemed to be fully awakened, having a vision that felt piercing at the heart.

                                Alexander was amazed to see the serenity on the face of the man. There was no fear, but the magnificent peace on the old man that gripped the heart of Alexander. “Hey, ancient man, ask me whatever you want from me, anything”. Slowly, the man opened his eyes. “I don’t want anything from you, I have everything I want.” Alexander gaped at him. “Do you know to whom you are talking? He is the mighty Alexander, who has won so many battles, who have cut the throats of so many brave kings, who have acquired so many lands, including yours. Consider it to be your good luck that our greatest king is being so kind to you” Said Craterus. The saintly man blinked indifferently at him. “I know who he is, more than you or any of his close ones will ever know. you know the outer crust of his but I know his soul. He may have conquered all but his mind is beyond his reach which is the real enemy of man and should be conquered.” Stumped was the Craterus and Alexander. “Ok. If you are so much willing to give me than, side yourself, you are obstructing the way of sun rays.” Open mouthed gazed the Craterus towards the man and Alexander’s lips parted in a smile. “He is not an ordinary man” said alexander to his general, who was staring mutely at the man. “I have not seen a man like you, you have won my respect, I request you to come with me to my country.” Now it was the man’s turn to smile. “I would, if you had life long enough to go back to your country”.

The Touch of LOVE..

Completeness, freedom, solace and eternal bliss when resides in the heart than the life gains its long lost beauty and glory. This is the kind of feeling that is called love. The feeling that helps you to carve out your own world amidst the million people, where you are secured, taken care of and are fully pampered. You sail through the miseries of life and different relationships with ease. Love germinates a relationship where there is freedom in boundation, independence in dependence and love in love. It helps in bringing down heaven on earth. Everything appears cocooned in magic and fantasy, every speck of dust appears as gold.

       Love is a bond that is made when two souls climbs the stairs made up of trust, care, faith, compatibility and understanding and reaches to a pedestal where they stand in front of each other as one and forms an unspoken, unbreakable relationship which grows with time and together surpasses the stage of immaturity, egotism and solitude.  It’s a state where a person is witness of the other, observing each other,  there builds a bridge through which there souls merges and becomes one. The life is full of miseries and tears. We pretend to be conquering our pains n sorrows all alone and to an extent we win but in the end we are left with the smothered soul that stands alone amidst the sea of fake admiration n relationships. But when the tested times of life are faced, holding the hand of the person u love, every misery or incident or challenge becomes an adventure. You start giving a try to yourself because you know even if you fall, there will be someone, in whose eyes you will find the unaltered love that will be a buffer between you and the sufferings of the world. The touch of love in life is an exclusive blessing which very few gets and deserves

       

Monsooooon

It has finally rained. Everywhere there is coolness accompanied by

silence. The only sound is of clouds moving and raindrops beating on

Earth. it seems as if everyone is deliberately quite to enjoy the

music of rain. its a lullaby for all. its night, still everything

looks picturesque-the land, the sky, birds in the nests or under the

shades and everything. my heart is also hopping in joy, splashing in

thought of rains and praying hard to let the rain come without any

obstacle. every feature of monsoon is full of splendour and charm.the

thunderbolt produces a sound that is so melodious, sometimes its

frightful but nature has its style and its way to show it. my heart is

also rejoicing, it dragged me into the rain and i was breathless, i

was one with the nature. those drops of rains on my face anchored me

to the spot. every cell of my body was awakened and was speechless. i

am in love with the monsoon. the way it has embraced me, there is

nothing in return to give it, but my heart. the mornings of monsoons

make the earth look more colorful-the bathed trees look more green,

fresh and full of life. the birds are more chirpy and are playful. in

nutshell everyone brims with happiness and contentment. all the

wrinkles and worries seems to wade away with this wash. my heart is

fully gripped in its magic and is gaping open mouthed at the unfolding

beauty of nature. oh! and the fragrance of the wet earth gives me a

pleasure that is beyond any dimension. like everytime, I have fallen

in love with monsoon and with god who has pitied on the scorching

earth and its creatures and has finally brought down his mercy over

all of us in the form of rain. the world is intoxicated and is lost in

the celebration of this amazing climate- "monsoon".

City of Lakes

Udaipur, the city of lakes as it is called, never fails to amuse me. You might think that obviously it is known as one of the most beautiful cities and is a great tourists place but the truth is far from all your imaginations. Still some of them are true like there are lakes, few inches above the ground thanks to the recent rainfall otherwise one could have easily played cricket with the kids there.  So, there are lakes with city garbage swimming over them. Instead of fishes or birds you will find variety of plastics, bottles, food materials on them. If you choose not to see this and turn your face in other direction then another  view comes up  of a rustic old woman frowning to see you and washing her clothes in the same water where your boat corners. Ok, you can close your eyes to this too and move forward in the garden. Ah,
the garden, you expect it to be blooming with the beauty. Rub your eyes, yes do it, because what you are seeing is true. A family of seven is sitting in a circle and is throwing more not in the dustbin but all around it and eating less. This is disheartening, heartbreaking, please open the dictionary and find more words to describe my feelings. How dearly I love this city, nobody can imagine and how much it hurts to see this situation of one glorified city of Maharana Pratap none can imagine. From the very childhood I have been hearing about its kings and beautiful surroundings. My memory has been enriched by the varied stories of my father’s escapades in its jungle. Everything is gone.  Now, Its green in patches, its overpopulated with the people who don’t give a damn about it, they all want to go abroad kicking beside the place which is so rich in culture, beauty and love. Even if it’s all brown and dirty, even if its lakes are getting dirty and people are misusing its resources, I will love it. I will love it for what it was once and what it is now. And I don’t care if government is sleeping or the people of this country are sleeping. I will take up this challenge to clean it. Even if it’s going to be a meager effort, still I am going to do it, for my own satisfaction.

Two Strangers

Faruq was getting ready for his daily morning walk, wearing his favorite grey t-shirt, he went downstairs. A single hoot woke up the roost. A coughing Muezzin was calling Allah. A distant temple bells were celebrating the morning. A sudden swoop of owl sent the playful rodents into the holes. A saras lorry whisked pass in hurry to supply the milk for the morning tea. All this and more medleys of sounds kept increasing. He was happy to wake up, witnessing a mysterious silence. Soon he was out, on the road and was enjoying the freshness in the air. Mornings were dear to him. Waking up early in the morning gave him a pleasure which is incomparable to any other pleasure. while walking, he found a small girl in school uniform who was crying silently. He went close to her and inquired “why are you crying, kid?”. She looked up, and to her amazement she found an angel like person standing and smiling at her. Hesitatingly, she slipped her tiny hand in his hand and replied “ I don’t want to go to school. I don’t like it. Can you take me with you.” He was dumbfounded, he said, “I can’t take you like this.” Hearing to this girl bowed down her face. Looking at the disappointed innocent face, he felt bad. He came close to the girl and whispered in her ear, “Would you like to go to Pushkar with me?”The reply was twinkling in her eyes as she smiled her world embracing smile to me,“Ok than, I am going to get my bike, till you wait here.” The girl saw him going and then coming back to her. She climbed beside him and held him tightly. Unique smell of Faruq’s perfume filled her nostrils. She felt extremely comforted and secured. “what is your name?” asked Faruq. “Razia.”she replied.
                                           The freshness of the atmosphere completely eased Pinky. She spread her arms and felt the force of the wind against her arms. The twisted roads and mystic faces on them, the Colorful turbans and dhotis of men with women robed in bright colored ghagras in the farms filled her little heart with amusement.  “Here is our Pushkar”, said Faruq while stopping near a tea stall.  “oh vow, look at the sky bhaiya”. There came big, black rumbling clouds. Exhibiting their lyrical quality, they broke into rain which was so dense and constant that the sky was a river and this part of the world was its waterfall. But there was no end to the fun of Faruq and Razia. They started dancing and playing in the rain. For Faruq this was all new and different, at the same time freaking exciting. The ice cold raindrops falling on their sweating skins released them from the boiling heat. After all the fun they went into the shade of  a tiny sweet stall. While eating the hot jalebis they settled themselves on a small bench to enjoy the rain which was slowing down, leaving the face of earth clear and cleansed and almost radiant.
                                 Faruq looked at his watch and saw it was half past two. “We should go now.” At that very moment, a grave expression passed crossed the little face of Razia like a cloud shadow sinking over smooth hills on a sunny day. She adjusted herself at the hind seat of bike. Soon they were on the way back to home. The farewell was bit awkward, both were unwilling to let go of each other. But this was unavoidable, without saying a word, they departed.
                              At home,Faruq put a teapot on the burner and while the water was boiling, he thought of little razia. The memories of past moments spent with her receded  and returned like waves moving on the great ocean of heart. With school bag and water bottle Razia was standing , looking down and waiting for the school bus. But instead of school bus, there stopped a bike in front of her and she saw Faruq’s smiling face,“would you like to go to Pushkar with me?”

India lifting the Cup

Sachin cherishes his finest moment.

 The cricket world cup is one of the most awaited tournament ended finally on a happy and joyous note for the main host India, considered as favorites propelled to glory by trouncing Sri Lanka in final played at the Wankhede Stadium, Mumbai.throughout the tournament the true efforts for improvisation were witnessed. every match dispelled new surprises as Yuvi, Zaheer and Munaf patel came as  remarkable bowlers and Gambhir, Kohli, Raina as classy batsmen. Sachin, as always working as the cement for our Indian cricket team was consistent and kept the inspiration alive till the end. the Maverick made 482 runs in the tournament.
                           The crowd in every match of india whether sitting in the stadiums or before the TV sets were on the very edge of their seats. the energy and the excitement were brimming the atmosphere in India. edging towards the victory, the players knew the importance of that moment and gave their best in the final match with Sri Lanka. the hurricane of India and the Indian Captain Dhoni scored 91 runs from 79 balls. working and inspiring each other, they marched towards their same goal and won the World Cup for India. Sachin, the maestro had waited for this glorious moment for 21 long years. there were tears of happiness in the eyes of every Indian. "these are happy tears so i dont mind crying". quoted by Sachin.
by-Devashish Juneja

Jaipurites in Summers

This time of the year summer has made a forced entry.winter was made to exit in a jiffy.jaipurites are experiencing the blast of sun unprecedented really the weather bird is left aghast with its forecastes as none of them seems to be true.however the bravado of the common folk on street is admirable.street urchins with tattered clothes or bereft of it are better off in summers ,as one can hear their squeal and laughter while running after each other.elders also seem not to worry much they seem to put up resignedly accepting the torrid heat as inevitable.under the scarce shade of a tree from a tea stall tea is being served to them.from now on flies in the day and mosquitoes in the night shall be their companions.

The Charmer Sun

Coming after the college, retiring to my room, I generally speculate on the surroundings. My room is a large room, having enough place for three people to live in comfortably. It’s a beautiful room, consisting of a big rectangular window. My bed is at a little distance from the window, but situated in front of it, I enjoy watching sun’s rays dancing in accord to time. Morning time is the most refreshing, the sun rays seem to be drenched in rain and entering to the room pats my sleepy cheeks and eyes. Its the sweetest and dearest thing; I just enjoy the feeling being the beloved of sun. At daytime, the heat is at its peak, but our room stays cool. our room is the other caretaker, who loves his inhabitants as much as they do. So, while sun is pouring his anger on all, we are lulled to sleep by our caring room. in dusk, the sun gets tired and becomes a bit mild, and bades us goodbye, by reaching us through the window. He caresses us by showing the picturesque scenes. He washes gently the trees and other elements of nature. I sit and watch the life taking different shades in the rays of our charmer, the sun. I marvel at the mystic powers of nature and its bodies.
                                    The most mesmerizing view that one can visualize of the majesty of sun is from the terrace of our hostel. Every morning, each and every speckle of nature seems to gather to welcome him. The neem tree, standing in pride of its beauty and height glitters with remarkable feature of its lush green leaves. The bells of nearby temple increase the purity of the atmosphere. The saras dairy whisked pass in a hurry to supply the milk for the morning tea. The clutter of tea cups and plates in the kitchen and the morning raga from the radio in the voice of Sehgel peppers the whole atmosphere with refreshment and bliss. In this soothing ambience I like to push a canoe of thoughts out into the uncharted realm of books and when they are novels of Ruskin bond than the delight reaches to its heights. The daily hassles of life for sometime seems to move away.

Don't mess with MESSI!!!

Lionel Andres Messi , 5ft. 7inches tall, popularly known as "little left footed wizard", plays for FC Barcelona is from Argentina. At the very young age of 23, he is one of the finest and richest footballers. He is a striker in his team and is responsible for the huge success of his club.
         He runs aggressively and its a treat to watch him dodging the players and moving among the players smoothly. till now with 178 goals for Barcelona he is a warning to the all the players of other teams as it is just the beginning!!!
by Devaditya Juneja

The Strange ME

Like a butterfly flies and sits in the womb of flower my mind too flutters and tries to find places of solace to settle itself. Right now sitting before the computer, inhaling paint and listening to regular doings of hammer i feel like running from here. but wherever i turn i see people, smoke, houses, narrow lanes and it gets suffocating. Even if i try to cool down and try to settle down with surroundings, i find the boiling heat piercing my skin and to top all my miseries is the useless talks of people. All i see is sadness, grumpiness and hopelessness. Traffic, merciless sun and the sweating earthen colored faces are the characteristics of Rajasthan's summers. the rescue from all this humdrum comes from the written world and from music. I immensely admire the writings of Ruskin Bond as his writings works as ice on my strained nerves. i feel very much related to him as he loves loneliness. He enjoys in the company of nature and is a voracious reader, loves music, movies, food and books. All his likings and dis likings goes with mine.
                      All my adventures and hideouts are in the world of books. i have developed my love of nature from the poems of Wordsworth, Shelley and Keats. in the cocoon of words i live peacefully. i end here, cant bear to sit here more and get myself boiled..

The Lost World of my Dreams

Divya is busy doing her chart work, looking focused and contented. I was also doing my analysis of a novel, trying hard to concentrate on the words but myriad thoughts about the varied problems didn’t allow me to go deep into the text. While thoughts kept me busy, I shifted the lens of my vision again towards divya and could feel the similarity. She was too perturbed by the thoughts that seemed to be controlling her. Same is the case with all, everyone look happy with their lives, but in reality they suffer from hollowness, crave for love, trust and security that they always remain devoid of. But there are some people among the millions, who really have discovered their true self and happiness. And it all happened with the realization that happiness and satisfaction is not outside, in the world, rather it dwells in oneself. We all are aware of this fact, but simply feels not doing it, as we believe in loving and depending on some or the other person, who unintentionally or intentionally becomes the cause of our pains. I am also one of them who see4ms to understand each and every moral or rule of life but flinches from the very thought of following it. There has been times when I go through the gamut of emotions, as I soon get attached with people. My life revolves around them and starts believing that they will stay with me forever. I start dwelling in my perfect fantasy world where there is nothing transitory, and at that very moment to puncture the airy and fairy dream of mine comes the “time” and in few moments snatches everything I love and leave me to live on the shattered pieces called memories. Relationships have their own glory, they create a cushion for the aching heart and help it to beat and thrive again. The only life saving from the major heart breaking is the “love” that we get in the varied relationships. I see human beings doing their best for their loved ones ignoring their own sorrows only to make them happy.
Nights becomes unbearable when the seeping realization of life glares at you. Standing alone amidst millions of smiling faces, there is a struggle to find that one face that will wipe all the unshed tears and will become the reason of your smile. This is the story of each and every heart that is being gnawed by the sharpened teeth of destiny. These unwanted elements in our lives- fate, destiny, time and circumstances are the demons which punishes us for loving others. We try to fight against it but when they had almighty with them, who is the only one who hath hatched this plan that is a reminder that we are doomed. Every soul is alone here and in possession of god who makes us dance on his tunes. We cry tears of blood and our souls smothers but he stays unaffected and untouched.

My Grand Slam

Oh my! What to say about the grand slam. Surely it’s a kind of sojourn, a drop of water on a barren land. Wimbledon has awakened all the energies in me. the hustle bustle on the soil of England, the cascading excitement on the grass courts can easily be felt bumping in the nerves. Truly said, “Tennis is a game of nerves”. The atmosphere is well created, peppered with the classic advertisements of rolex and IBX (don’t know what it is).the players, when they descends on the court, they don’t look less than the warriors. Serious faces with full concentration and determination. The best example is of our Federer and than comes Nadal.He is gonna be a real threat to our Federer…Don’t worry, I hv been watching their performances..Federer is still invincible. But my favorite is Leyton Hewitt. He is spectacular when he is on court!. On the other hand girls’ matches are also going great. Right now Top seeded Ivanovich is the possible threat to our sweetheart Sharapova. Our another sweetheart Serena Williams is also there fighting hard whereas our Indian sweetheart’s (sania mirza) performance is full of blunders. Papa’s observation is right, she has her limititations.
                        Now, I m shifting the focus of  my camera’s lens on the happenings of my home and neighborhood. Mum is busy racing around, doing multitasking whereas me and papa r tired of doing even single tasking and that is watching T.V. we both r having blast, watching Tennis, feeling their enthusiasm. We try and do a lot of things inspired by their awesome performances but that enthusiasm dies on our couches. But few sparks fly from the extinguished hearth and succeeds to inspire my mum, who gives a proper expression by finishing up all the work on time, while we stare our players and mum with awe like an obedient spectator.
                     One of my viewers or readers Mrs. Premlata Sharma is booing my work. According to her, I have exaggerated a lot abt her husband. So, I apologize, my father do a lot of work but the lens of my camera fails to catch him doing working as most of the time it is out of work (sleeping). Now let’s come to other updates. JHA’S PARIVAR. bulbul aunty is busy doing NOTHING. jha uncle like an obedient husband helping his wife doing nothing. minaxi, their daughter is now an another aunty and rahul, their son(let’s leave it)
                  The real charisma of my life is brought up by Poornima di. Her house is a blissful place and the people in her house are full of energy embedded with undying faith and confidence in them. The sweetest place is their kitchen. The room, where I learn music and the kitchen has a common window. So while practicing I get chances to taste the delicious Indian cuisines. The kitchen has the feel of RK Narayan’s picturisation. Its too much Indian. I love it.
                           Oh ah. now I m tired. The film roll is also finished. I have to leave, but u don’t forget to give your feedback here. this is Shweta sharma .Signing off. good bye n take care.