Friday, July 11, 2014

The weakest link

Picture Courtesy : © Diba Raza

I am stuck onto you...
like a stone to a twig
you bear the weight of my soul
and never complain!

I have tangled and enforced
undone, reinforced
my love for you..
A thousand times and more
and you never refrain!

How do you define love?
People ask.
Letting go, or holding on?
You have let gone
You say!
You know what? 
I am still holding on! 

The mightier, prettier comforts, I don't see
You are my weakest link, 
they break you, they break me!

Friday, June 27, 2014

Passageway

Picture Courtesy: Diba Raza


You have been here many times...

they are always open - these passageways
you have walked and run
closed chapters...also begun
on your favorite cherished days..


Every time you leave

a debris lies behind
It has all sorts of things
some of it even sings
and few are ruins - unkind...

One day, strangely

there came a flood - untold
of emotions and tears
of insecurities and fears
Life stopped and I- turned cold


I closed a few doors

and decided to guard my soul
Stopped letting things in
ended stories, didn't let it begin
Until everything was in control

My breath suffocated me

the light seemed to depart
I finally kept the guards aside
opened doors, bright and wide
these are but passageways to my heart..

I let everything in, now

fearless, undaunted, some say
some luckily get a peek
sometimes vivid sometimes bleak
I rule my heart, my own passageway


Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Por...tu....gal!!!

And Ronaldo is not the only reason why I support Portugal. After this...



.... I support it even more ;) 

Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Wishful thinking!

©Yamini

Time between
work -
for naps and siestas
when people often grab 
a chance of reviving life..
Refreshing, relaxing, rejuvenating!

but I...
I push myself in to the depths of
vaguely arranged letters, so it may seem
to the hazy eyed.
transcending into the wonderland of
stories
where each page says
"turn me..
turn me now..
I hold a revelation for you"

I pass by each line, like it were 
a terrain -picturesque
in pursuit of cracking codes,
and finding treasures...

but then, duty calls... and i wonder
what if i get paid for 
reading and exploring
reading and exploring even more..

do you know of any such job?

Thursday, May 15, 2014

Antithesis

Picture Courtesy: Diba Raza

Sometimes it so happens
that life seems abundant
with pleasures and joy
and the heart yearns for 
less and less

We want something
that is not
and not something 
that is..

Like

an old man wanting to be young, 
young lad, wanting to be a child
a child wanting to grow old
and the antithesis of life shall bring us
to the crossroads....

where we could chose to be
what we are
yet we will desire
for what is not...

And towards the end, 
when leaves of Hope fall
A genesis shall rekindle
new hope and new love

Until then, we shall experience
restlessness in search of that peace...
A perfect antithesis!

Sunday, May 04, 2014

Surreal Sundays

Frankly, Blogger is not user friendly anymore. With most of the bloggers migrating to their own domains and people vouching for WordPress, I do feel there is a lot that goes into accessing a blogger site. I have always had a bias towards Blogger, but the more I use WordPress, more I like it there. 

That apart, there is no reason why I haven't updated this space in like 5 months now. Close to! 

I have been busy with another project that we took up called Oh! Womania and here's the wordpress link to the site --> http://ohwomania.wordpress.com

I must have written more serial fictions than actually published here. I feel sad and bad that I leave loose threads and don't take up the responsibility of mending them, on my own blog.

Apologetic? No! I guess.

Having, said all that, I would now wanna more to my own domain, and wordpress is calling. I shall have a new space of my own, soon and I have no idea how to go about it. I shall try and be more regular here meanwhile, because it feels terrible to be marooned alone in blogosphere. I know how AOO must feel like! :)

Hope you've been good! 

Google plus has made commenting really difficult, I know! So, I shall find an easy way out pretty soon. Hang in there!

Peace!!

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Diary of a Compulsive Stalker - 2

Read Chapter 1

***

Painters are funny people. I turned out to be one funny chap. Really!!
I received a call the other day for judging an art competition. I laughed hysterically after I hung up on the dean.

"Mr. Zubein, we need artists like you to inspire our students", he said.

I hadn't laughed like this in a long long time. 

"Sure, I'll be there Sir. Please text me all the details", I responded decently.

"I will do that. Also, can I ask you to come for the event inauguration first, and I would be very glad if you could suggest a theme for the painting competition", he demanded more, as I heeded.

"No problem Sir. I shall be there", I had to sound amicable. 

He had bought 17 of my paintings for no good reason. I could go without work for so long only because he gave me money. Of course I don't see it that way. I earned it. But I knew what level of an artist I was. I deserved nothing! None of it - money or respect! But I got it anyway. So I made it a point to enjoy it. Humility pays nothing in this business.

"Sure. I do have something in mind. I'll come and address the students at the inauguration", I assured and continued with my internet browsing.

Social networking has its boons and banes. I looked for Bina's address and found it easily. She stays 4 bus stops away from me. The world is indeed a small place. She keeps checking-in in this one particular Costa Cafe, and I can guess easily that she stays somewhere around that coffee house. 

***

Mom has been a crazy woman ever since she became a mother, I believe.

"Zubi, look at this advertisement. Why don't you attend this interview?", she called out one day.

"Mom, I am not going to turn out like Dad. I don't want to be an accountant, fill ledger books and do the same thing over and over again for 40 years", I reasoned.

"How on earth are you going to have a steady income then?", she questioned.

"Mom, I sold my paintings last month, and with those earnings I can spend lavishly for another 3 months. My paintings go in lakhs. Dr. Diwan paid me 1 and half lakh for 3 paintings alone, last month", I explained.

"This is not a steady income. And which idiot buys paintings of nude girls for 1 and a half lakhs?", she sounded disgusted. 

"That's art Maa. Nude art. I am a graceful painter!", I explained, but failed to. She never understood me or my art. Not even when I tried to tell her about how I felt about certain things.

Nude artists are not appreciated much. I remember the first time I chose to stick with one color only. I used red to paint a woman. Shades of red, on canvas. Painting of a woman I saw in one of the B grade flicks of a South Indian movie. I took a still and painted her. Without clothes. I realized there was something that interested me. The divinity behind the entire creation of women is astonishing. I wanted to appreciate the beauty. I painted her in 3 hours. Straight. Most of the times, the most unassuming women of the lot interest me. This woman was one of them.

"Exquisite", I remember Dev complimenting me.

But I found it senseless. My painting did not impress me. I wanted to feel the rush within for having painted this sensuous woman whom I stared at for 5 hours and painted for 3. But nothing happened. 

Just like Bina. Would painting her mean anything? Would I want to see her naked? Posing for me? I would definitely want that. 

I went to Costa the next evening to find Bina. I wanted to apologize, so that she thinks of me as a good man. I am a good man, mostly, women refuse to agree. Ask Dev, he would vouch for me.

Dev....... Well....!!

"Why did your parents name you Zubein when you are not Muslim", he asked once. That was his very first question when we met. I concluded that this guy wouldn't be easy to deal with. He had already judged me on the basis of my name. 

"My mother was a Muslim, and my father is a Hindu. Now we don't follow any religion", I replied.

"That's weird", he exclaimed.

"What's weird? Religion is complicated. Love is simple. We follow latter", I defended, repeating what mom always said.

"Ok. Makes no sense. But people will think you are Muslim", he said.

"Would that really matter?", I asked.

"I should ask that!", Dev said.

"Well, I don't care. What's in a name after all...", I started quoting Shakespeare.

"....That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet", he concluded.

That's how I knew I could be his friend. He was opinionated. But he was still a guy who could be my friend. 

Bina was not in the cafe, when I entered. It was a weekday. A workday. Why should she be out in a coffee house? She must be at work. Looking pretty, scribbling her name on the newspaper, attending people. I sat there and ordered a coffee for myself.

I looked around. There was a girl who interested me. Unlike a real one, but a girl nonetheless. She kept tapping her foot while one foot rested on the knee of the other. She wore a huge-dialed watch. Her lose sweatshirt, made it difficult for me to categorize her. Her fingers, constantly moving on the phone. No nail paint. Her hair, falling on her face, short, blunt. She wore spectacles, and there was no sign of kohl. But... 

But her fragrance drove me crazy. As I tried to capture her picture on my phone, she looked up and walked towards me, realizing someone was clicking her. I looked at her. Intently. Her waist - brilliant. I was stuck on that.

I heard voices diminishing as she approached....


Dev should never know about this.

***

.....to be contd

Friday, January 24, 2014

Emptiness - 2

Picture Courtesy - Diba Raza
coffee table talks,
pick up lines in trend,
engaging discussions on life
sometimes, jokes on friends of friends!

laughter, joy - immeasurable
spills of drinks on the tray
brownie indulgence, unforgivable
knitting stories day after day

i pass by these coffeehouses
those empty tables stare
a silent laughter echoes, 
pricks a pretty memory somewhere

one day, after wrapping up the chores
and punching in swipe cards
we'll meet in leisure and talk
how life's been kind and hard

time please! from the game
I wonder, when again shall we meet?
these lonely tables, at coffee shop
meanwhile befriend the street!



***



PS: For the paglees in my life! <3





Saturday, January 18, 2014

Latest read!

I'll let the Saturday be silent, without much of a noise.. Here are some quotes from the book I am currently reading.. Norwegian Wood by Haruki Marukami..

“I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it -- to be fed so much love I couldn't take any more. Just once. ” 

“What happens when people open their hearts?"..."They get better.” 

“The dead will always be dead, but we have to go on living.” 

“I've never met a girl who thinks like you."
"A lot of people tell me that," she said, digging at a cuticle. "But it's the only way I know how to think. Seriously. I'm just telling you what I believe. It's never crossed my mind that my way of thinking is different from other people's. I'm not trying to be different. But when I speak out honestly, everybody thinks I'm kidding or playacting. When that happens, I feel like everything is such a pain!” 

“It just happens to be the way that I'm made. I have to write things down to feel I fully comprehend them.  

And that's why I am totally loving this book.. I don't know if I am a good reviewer, because I end up loving all the books I read, but if these quotes inspire anyone, please do read the book! :)

Happy Weekend! :) 

Friday, January 17, 2014

Diary of a Compulsive Stalker - 1

"Zubein", I introduced myself as I stopped at the reception. 

"Please wait there Sir, while I let Mr. Tiwari know that you are here", she pointed at the seating area. 

Orange nail paint! White skin. Her fingers were beautiful. I thought, why didn't her face appeal at first? I stopped. Turned back. And looked. Looked at her. Her hair - tinge of brown. Eyes, un-kohled. Drab. Nose. Lips. I stared some more. I wanted her looks to attract me. I tried harder. Neck -sleek. A beautiful diamond pendant adorned the chain she wore. Did I notice her lips? I went up a tad. Stared. Just gloss - neat.... down to neck.... pendant!!  A nice neckline...further down.... Her breasts. I stared. How were they, I examined carefully as layers of clothes took its shape. 

"Excuse me Sir!", she interrupted. I looked up. Her face looked red, forehead tensed. Offended, was she?  Of course. I was staring, wasn't I? But what was it about her? Why wasn't she appealing? I had my questions. I wanted to explore more. So, where was I? Breasts. Yes! I looked down again. Decent, I concluded.. And..

"SIR", she yelled this time. I stood looking at her face, studying the details of her features. 

"Please leave!", she ordered. I continued looking at her. She picked up the phone and dialed a number. I smiled. I knew there would be ruckus after this. I silently picked up my bag, took the newspaper lying on her desk and left. I smiled at the watchman on my way out. 

I looked at the newspaper. "Bina Raj". There were repeated signatures in red ink, over the headlines. It was her name. A chill went down my spine. Her face didn't do that to me, what her name did. Bina Raj. I tried to recollect her face. I had forgotten already. 

While the lift zoomed down, I felt free, gravity playing its part. The whooshing sound of the fan was interrupted by Dev's call. I smiled. He always had the perfect timing. 

"So, when is it going to begin?", he asked, authoritatively. 

"I left already", I said as-a-matter-of-fact-ly.

"What? You had the call letter. They didn't let you in?", he questioned.

"I didn't reach till... you know...the interviewer", I started explaining.

"Why? Last when I called you said you were in the lift going to the office reception", he demanded an explanation.

"The candidate was already selected, so they asked me to leave", I told believably. He bought it.

"Oh no!", he was more disappointed than I was. Or was I?

"Zubein, you have to do something. Aunty keeps calling me up and says that you are not getting proposals for marriage because you don't have a steady income", he began the same old story.

"Blah, blah, blah, Dev", I interrupted. "I will get married when I want to. 30 is not an age where I have to start worrying about spending life and dying alone.", I used my usual guard. 

"Ok Ok.. We can talk about it later. Anyway, so what else? Anything interesting?", he changed the topic.

"Bina Raj", I said.

"Who is Bina Raj?", he asked. 

"Meet me this weekend, I'll introduce you to her", I replied.

"So you are making progress.. eh?. Aunty will be happy! Hope Bina doesn't have a problem with your unstable income", Dev teased. 

"Unstable income? Watch how she falls for me now", I reassured. 

Fall for me? Hahahaha.. No girl would fall for me. I am "Perversion Personified". I don't say it. Once a girl told me that. That's a nice description. I love titles. Specially given by women. Because they don't seem to give me anything else. So titles... so be it!

I hadn't fallen for that receptionist yet. Nothing about her interested me, except her name. Bina. Is it even an interesting name? Perhaps for my painting. I can call one of my paintings Bina. But what was wrong with her? She had the perfect set of fingers. Prettiest nail color, and...

May be I was pulled away before I could analyse her anatomy -below that diamond pendant. So, where do you live, Bina darling? 

www.facebook.com. My nerves ease, as I open her Facebook page and browse her pictures...

Dev should never know about this.

***

....to be contd.

Read Chapter 2

***

PS: 'Fictional Fridays' will feature the serial fiction -"Diary of a Compulsive Stalker" (DOACS), every Friday. This is chapter 1. Stay glued for more.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Winter Blues

Picture Courtesy: Diba Raza


Walk a mile with me!
Will you?

That day when pieces of trust
lay on the floor,
My belief in love fogged
I cared for nothing more.

And how you knelt down
to a stranger with a lilac face
Cold, frozen, looking for -
a heart beat, a human trace

And then you walked by! 
Were you looking for your pieces too?
Broken pencils, fragile pages
green eyes- teary, your face colored blue!

It rained in my heart that day
as the city sunk in an unforgiving cold
the warmth began to dawn on me and you
as clouds began to unfold

A truth turned into a fiction
A fiction became true
A long path awaits
Walk a mile with me!
Will you?

***

PS: Cheers to winters! Only cold weather appeals, not cold people! Wishing everyone the warmth of love, life and wonder, this winter! :)

Monday, January 13, 2014

Good Old Days!


Picture Courtesy : Pooja Cornelius

The sillage of the pages of a dated book
The corners dog eared - the disdain look
Once I found a message from a George to a Susan
I kept the treasure safe, as the rack shook

From the roadside, piling up on used-reads
I would breathe the dust, along with my creed
"Kill a mocking bird" for a few rupaiahs, they'd yell
Gimme some more for less, I'd plead

Those days, collection of books wouldn't suffice
More the merrier, it would be the holiest prize
Today, I have dozens - a hundred and two
I can read them, but just on a device

The piles are heavier, but not intense
the pages shine, all in pretense
I wish to go back to those hard-bound days
when stories on pages made more sense

And so for my memoirs, I write to tell
There was once a time, when we all read well
now books are business, downloads - fun
Alas! Technology is where sanity dwells..

Thursday, January 09, 2014

Emptiness

Picture Courtesy: Pooja Cornelius


Slurrp! Those bothersome sips
From the hot chocolate, twirling on the table
That would thrust me into the depths of illusions -

That there would be a world
Free of erratic sights and unpleasant sounds!
I'd fancy that world - silent and depopulated.

But chaos is a pattern, and it keeps coming back
Unlike my illusions - it stays!

And it tells me, someday,
This chair would be occupied.

My coffee mug - filled again
My heart would be - intense with love
And our talks - a spree!

That day emptiness and silence
Will only rest in my imagination

And you would walk by
Creating a chaos
Filling - the empty chair
-The silence
-And my heart!

Monday, January 06, 2014

New year!

When I look at my blog archive, I feel a sense of euphoria. A small one, but I still do. I have been on a downhill, when it came to number of posts published on this blog.  But 2013, saw a slight steep, and I pray it grows to a higher number as this year progresses. Last year I had 5 more blog posts than the year before last, and it isn't satisfactory. I have so much to express, but two-timing is a sin they say. Maintaining multiple blogs, drains one out. So all in all, I want to say, that this is a resolution. To maintain this blog better than I did last year.

I am a neat liar when it comes to making up stories. I do not lie to my people, but this entire blog, most of the times thrives on my figment of imagination which is nothing close to reality. Hence it's not true, it is a lie and so metaphorically relative of the truth! 

I always remember what my class 6 English teacher once told me. If you want to lie, write stories. And I have been doing just that ever since! :)

So more lies this year, definitely, because a lot is cooking up! :)

While I get started on other things, apart from blogging, I wish you all a very Adventurous and Exciting New Year.. to make this year happy, or sad, is up to us! :)

Cheers!

Thursday, November 28, 2013

No time for love

I have been so busy with work and other commitments that I've had no time for my love - writing! I miss it, but I'll resume it very soon. Meanwhile, a Thoughtful Thursday says:

We want you, not your money. As long as you're at fight club, you're not how much money you've got in the bank. You're not your job. You're not your family, and you're not who you tell yourself. You're not your name.You're not your problems.You're not your age.You are not your hopes. You will not be saved. We are all going to die, someday.
~ Fight Club (1999)

The movie has always intrigued me. This time, I am reading the book. "Fight Club" - it's gory, but worth exploring. Pick it up, or watch it. Love it, or hate it. But don't miss it! :) 

BRB!

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

Love the person, or their deeds?

A few instances in the recent past, made me brood over this topic. Uncalled for, but what is life if full of care, we have no time to stand and stare. Therefore, while staring at life, at a point, I started wondering whether people love me for who I am, or for what I do. I know a few people who have loved me because I have bought them gifts, I have thrown parties for them, treated them, driven them to places. I also know a few people who say they love me because I hear them out, because I am a good friend. But I am much more. Beyond these obvious qualities, which I express and do, which do seem pretty, I have a dark side too. I have my negatives and I am not proud of them, but I do have them. 

I get angry. I am impulsive. I am a pessimist most of the times, and like I have said on this blog over and over, it takes me time to creep out of the obscurity and appreciate the optimism. I am this person, and I accept myself the way I am. But many people don't. They love me for what I do for them. And when I get angry, impulsive, they stop loving me! They stop it altogether. Is it so easy to un-love someone? They only love the Good Obscure Optimist who always says pleasant things, who showers gifts and treats, who writes pretty poems on muses. But one bad post, makes her a horrible person, and makes people un-love her instantly. I get immediate texts saying, "I don't think I like you anymore". I laugh at such times. Not because it is funny, but because I am one of the outcasts! And I love that feeling.

When I talk about Love here, it is not just "ishq-wala-love", but general love. I tried to understand how do I go about it. I love and hold a few people close to my heart. I could do anything for them. I could fight the world, bare the storm, give all that I have and stand up for them, no matter what. That's how I love. That's my loyalty. Even if they have their negatives, even if they get angry at times, if they lie, if they get mean, or rude or go around making new friends, I would still love them. Because I never loved them, for what they did, I always loved them for who they were. 

Everyone comes with a package. Like I have mentioned in my earlier posts, for me love is acceptance. I accept the other person with this entire package be it positives or negatives. They may give me a pretty pair of earrings one summer, and I could feel elated, but that doesn't boost my love to turn into a craze, or they might lie to me, or get angry and say things, but that doesn't make me love them any less. I may get upset, sad, but I do not stop loving them. 

How does one stop loving people? How can one stop caring? This is the strangest question ever. I wonder, how manipulative emotions are, for some people, with so many "ifs and buts". We hurt our parents so much as we grow up, telling them our way of going about things. They may be right in their place, but we have this different view of life and things, and we teach them, instead, how their approach should be. Despite all this, our parents love us. Then, why is there so much adulteration in other loves. Love amongst friends or partners?

I am lucky to have a few people who take me the way I am, and despite my ugly side, they still stick around. They have not left me, and I am sure, after going through the worst, they are going to stick around for the rest of the life. On one hand, some people make me question the piety of love, on the other hand, some make me believe, that it's ok to live in hope. I have experiences both good and bad, but I have come to learn one thing for sure. I would always love a person for who they are, and not for what they do. Because a human being is a result of its circumstances, and it is not right to judge the act and conclude my feeling towards that person. With time, things may get better and my judgments may change. So loving the other person, is the best way to live. There is no other way! :)

Simple realisations, at times, make life totally worth living! :)

***

PS: Yes, even if the person I love, turns into a terrorist, I cannot come to hate that person. I have given it a thought.. Pretty much!

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Readers Speak

Today is the day of feedback.  Since I do not have the comment form added in my posts, the readers cannot post comments. I had to remove it, because there were a lot of spam comments in my inbox, with people promoting their websites and products. And I was very bored of moderating all that. I thought, if people who genuinely wanted to convey their comments, they would do it anyway. 

I get a lot of comments about the posts I write, but these two are worth mentioning on the blog! :) I don't want to mention comments like "Well written", "Great posts". Because, they are just motivational comments. I am thankful for all of them too. But when people express their opinions, it makes more sense to me, and I feel grateful that the post made someone think! So I am going to mention two comments, which are not compliments or anything, but more than that! :)

***

This one was by Dipti, on the post "Love and Lust".

Marriage starts with lust, but love blossoms. It is said that love makes you accept good and bad of the person..it does, but love becomes mutual when you are ready to change for the other person. You included an example of smoking. 

For the person I love, I would want to live a life with him, hence would not even want him to fall ill for a day, let alone be something more. If I stop him for something like that, and want to change, it is love. Love is mutual.. and wanting to change for good..

Your opinion does matter to the other person if its love. If he cares too, he is bound to change. Love is sealed, hence mutually. 

I perhaps missed the point of one being "open to change" and that ofcourse is the part and parcel of "Love". Rigidity doesn't really work in relationships. I appreciate, Dipti brought up that point! :)

***

And the next very interesting comment was on my post Feedback. I really loved this part! 


For most of the post, I thought OMG!!! Ayn Rand has you!!!! But, from this paragraph onwards the comments are mentioned below:

I would take the feedback positively and make sure, my posts don't appear so hateful. It's true I am capable of a lot of good, than just being sarcastic. But I am one, and I can't hide my bad side, if at all it is labelled as bad. I am what I am, and I will be what I feel is right. Others may disagree, and question my intentions! 
Don’t take the feedback positively!!!! Don’t ‘make sure your posts don’t appear so hateful’!!! A person is eating a Chicken leg piece and enjoying its taste to the fullest. His friend watching him eat absolutely loathes him… because he/she is vegetarian. Another friend cannot wait to get his/her hands on the leg piece and is jealous that the man is having it all by himself…. Because this friend is a non-vegetarian. The problem here is being vegetarian or non-vegetarian. 

There is nothing wrong with the person who made the chicken piece the way it is. The cook should not prepare the leg piece in a different manner or make it appear different because the vegetarian hated it. 

As I always said, good and bad are relative terms, life should not be looked at that way. 

Let's all concentrate more on Love, which is very essential today. Sarcasm, can be saved for twitter ;)

LOVE!!!!! Oh no!!!! dog’s tail. Love is an adulterated version of lust. Period!!!! 

***

So keep, the comments coming. I would love to have discussions with you all, over gtalk, FB, whenever whereever you catch me. Let's talk, explore other aspects, tell me how you feel about these topics, and then I would have another interesting post on the blog! That's how it works! :)

PS: the colored part is the comment by the readers and the italics portions are parts from my post for which the comment is applicable!

Tuesday, October 29, 2013

People who die young

Today is Tuesday, and I have nothing interesting to write.  But I do have something to write about. Yesterday, I got a mail about a colleague, aged 25-26, who passed away in an accident. I did not know him very well. He used to work in our office and had left the job to pursue his education in one of the IIMs.

I only remember him from that one interaction I had. Once there was this exhibition/fun fare organised by the employees in our office. He had a stall for CRY. He was promoting the NGO and all those who were interested could become a part of it through the already existing volunteers. He was one of them. I went to the stall, and inquired everything about how to make the donation for CRY. I was to give him a cheque the next day. Somehow, I couldn't meet him, and I made the payment online. That was the  only interaction I had with him. 

He was known to be someone who was very active in social service and similar kind of activities. And when I heard the news, I felt  really bad. For his family and for all the people who will now be deprived of his care and love. I hardly knew him, but I knew, world was definitely a  better place with people like him around, but not anymore.

This isn't the first time, that I have had questions like these in my mind. Why do good people have to die so early. I totally understand and know the concept of Karma and that they have finished their cycle here, and are on another journey. All fair! But, seriously, the world needs such people. 

I am someone who will only help in her capacity. I do not go out of my way to help others. If I have no food to cook and eat, I do not go about feeding others. That's the most practical approach, according to me. But there are people who live by that rule. They feel, if someone else out there is hungry and dying, how can one eat heartily and sleep peacefully.

These are the kind of people who are taken away too soon. There are some who bring about a change by talking and giving speeches, but there are some, who silently do their part without saying, mentioning anything. And when you hear a news such as this, it really makes one feel bad! 

A few days back, I read about a man, a librarian who donated all his earnings to the poor. It takes immense strength to do that for other people, who are not your own. For the sake of humanity, people do things like these and I believe they are exceptional God sent souls. Truly respectable. But when they face such nemesis, I question Justice and the Laws of the Universe. It's all meaningless. I know all the answers to my questions. The Karma one does, the fruit one gets -  it's an unending cycle which shall make sense if I see the bigger picture.

All wonderful people die too soon I feel. And the ones who deserve to die still hang around and corrupt the air! I wish there was more justice. Perhaps there already is, I am too small to understand the bigger meaning behind all this.

Incidences like these, makes me appreciate whatever I have, even more. There have been times, when i have complained incessantly. But, living, being alive, itself is the biggest gift ever! And people who want to die, because they have failed in exams, or relationships, they should know, some people want to live and do so much, but they don't get to! 

And if we are alive instead of those who should have been alive-  those who indeed had a purpose, we should be thankful!

Monday, October 28, 2013

Feedback!

I have been writing Tangy Tuesday posts lately, and the last one that I wrote, seemed a little hateful - Muse, A-muse. Yes, it was. I don't hate people (Hate is a very powerful emotion. This calls for another post on this topic!), but I make fun of them. I seriously love it, when I pass sarcastic comments on people whom I do not appreciate. 

Of course I am not a perfect human being and there are people who upset me. And there are times when I want to show them the mirror, but I am not someone who judges people. I let them be the way they are. But my rage or feelings need to find a place. Therefore I rant it out, here! 

Is it their attitude towards life, their face, their negativity - I have no clue what affects me. But, I feel better, if I write it down. But today I had someone tell me that my posts do not inspire her. 

Frankly I have never written anything on the blog for the readers. Invariably, I got a few followers anyway, is something I am very thankful for. But I have been a selfish writer and I maintain a blog for myself. I have this competition with myself alone. I do not vie for n number of followers and n number of comments. My blog hardly does rounds on the blog forums and platforms. I just share my posts on FB, because there are some genuine readers who seek updates. No comments or hits on the site, bother me at all. 

Yes, I do appreciate when I get feedback, but I do not blog to get one. So, today I was told by one of my readers that my writing is usually inspiring but I let down the expectations with horrible posts like Muse, A-Muse. 

Point noted. 

Now, there were some people who told me that the post was very nice. I got very good feedback about that post. But, I was forced to dissect the intention of someone telling me that the post was uninspiring. If you read it as a third person, the post looks amusing. But if you read it as someone for whom it was meant, then may be it would be hurtful. Empathizing is very important aspect of living, I feel. And my reader, did exactly that, and got back to me and told me that how cruel it sounded.

My intention is never to promote hate or ill feeling through my blog. It is just for myself, and entertainment of others. If this blog has something to give, please take it, else, there are hundred other bloggers who write with an intention of preaching. I am just not suitable and fit to preach about better topics, so I just rant the state of a human mind, my mind, which questions everything, anything and comments accordingly. 

I would take the feedback positively and make sure, my posts don't appear so hateful. It's true I am capable of a lot of good, than just being sarcastic. But I am one, and I can't hide my bad side, if at all it is labelled as bad. I am what I am, and I will be what I feel is right. Others may disagree, and question my intentions! 

Yes, setting out any negativity in the universe is bad, I totally agree. But there are millions who are already doing it by creating thoughts in their heads, without speaking them out. At least I honestly write about the way I feel and deal with negativity. I don't conspire and spoil lives. Yes, one spoiled  post is all that's ever gonna come out! 

But sure, I understand the importance of writing the good stuff on my blog, because there are people whom I don't even know, read this. I don't fear judgment, but I would never want anyone to misconstrue my writing as "Hate Posts".

Let's all concentrate more on Love, which is very essential today. Sarcasm, can be saved for twitter ;)

Monday, October 21, 2013

That night...

Picture Courtesy : Diba Raza
That night..

I held Time
and committed a crime
of asking the night to stay..
The darkness harked
as the universe larked
and slowly it went away..

Then I..

Challenged the moon
to dance to the tune
as the wind began to play..
Slowly, mystery shrouded
as the azure was clouded
they took the moon away..

Even though...

I knew I could
do something good
and turn the tide my way..
The seas refused
as the stars diffused 
they said they wouldn't stay..

And how...

Could I ever
be a little clever?
and make them heed, if I may!
Against the rule
can I ever fool
and mock the Mighty display?