Just a thought

You go deep into thoughts before you sleep. But what if you are never able to sleep? Or what if you have been asleep all this time? What if the life you have been living is a lie? Ridiculous it might sound to you. When you think about it, its not that far from reality. People are fed lies all the time. So was i! You can do anything you want. Follow your passions, all will be well they said. You’ll find your love you’ll be with her forever. Nothing is forever it seems now. Time takes care of everything. Emotions, compassion, serenity, love? Seems just like words. Real life scenarios are way different.

The further i try to go away from all this the more i find myself tangled into these unanswered questions of life. The unanswered questions i have to life can fill more than page. All i always ask myself is this, what i wanted to grow into? I see good in everything, that’s not bad right? Questions with no answers and who better to answer that but you. I guess time is all we need. Hell we are running out of that too. A lot of questions in this post. I’ll grow old i’ll find answers not to all of life’s questions not to all of them but to some that matter. I’ll grow old and i will die young.



They say writing is instinctive. That was true for me until a few years back. Clocks do not run backwards and neither can i. A few years back someone told me that i don’t have interest in literature, i don’t like writing and i am just doing it for the sake of it. Did those words matter to me? They sure did! That one sentence brought me down in more ways than one, i had no confidence in what i was writing and lost in my thoughts i eventually gave up writing. Words are strong, they are powerful especially your last words. You sum up your entire life in the last few words that come out of your mouth. They define who we were and what we did when we were alive. They also tell us how well we appreciated the beautiful gift of life and how much we understood ourselves rather than the world around us. ‘Nostradamus’ before he died said , “Tomorrow, at sunrise, I shall no longer be here.” He was right. George Orwell’s last written words were, “At fifty, everyone has the face he deserves.” He died at age 46. Albert Einsteins last words are forever lost in history, why you ask? The nurse attending him in his last moments was English and his last words were in German. WORDS MATTER!

But what happens when there is no one around you when your taking your last breaths and no one is around to hear or document your last words? They are forever lost in the cosmos? Something similar happened a few weeks back when a phone call was my alarm and the message delivered changed my way of looking at things forever. One of my childhood friends tragically passed away in a road accident and as lifeless he was he laid on the road for a few hours with no aid. It’s much worse than it sounds. What were his last words, I wonder? Will i ever know? Can i guess what he said? I can’t, no one can. Words are personal, they are unique. We act according to situations, actions are rapid, words are thought off. They say, ‘Think before you speak’ for a reason. Words can hurt far worse than wounds.


Nature is supercilious. I’m like a cloud who is running but i part and i get tiered, spontaneous and robust i will watch things come to end. I will not be around be around forever but i will watch things darken before they come come back to light. I will be around long enough to see myself grow into something i never wished to be. I will see friends walk away and i will see new ones come into being. I will see loved ones fade away and i will see myself try. I will take a sigh, a sigh of relief and i will learn to write. i will be there for myself and i will learn to fight. Anger, despair or alone as i will ever be, i’ll grab a pen and i will write   it all as i used to see. Things, people, emotions as simple i thought they’ll be, i’ll go back and climb the same old tree. I’ll turn myself into the same old leaf, i’ll do it again for same old me. I’ll find the words hidden in those letters like i always did, i’ll build a new world for that same kid. I’ll grow old and i’ll die young, i’ll be remembered by those whom i lived amongst.

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Trillion Dollar Baby

Trillion Dollar Baby.

Trillion Dollar Baby

The clock ticks and talks back to me as I lift my greasy eyes to surpass the darkness that dwelled upon me for the past few hours. The faint light fighting its way through the cracks of the enclosure grins upon me as I gradually begin to smile back. Carefree I gaze and kick upon the same entity whose scent is so familiar to me now. Wondering why I have the same view every morning, my orbs search for my early morning welcome wagon, who seeks the same path. Greeting him with the smirk that has won me fame and recognition among the faces in the crowd, I try to practice my intellectual prowesses with him, which always remains unfinished till the end of the day.

When done with politics over coffee and finishing with my daily workout, I often wonder,” why do people stare at walls with moving pictures”, “why can’t they communicate with the same lingo as mine? Why can’t they lie down for a while like me and take the pace off things and try to recognize things and not wanting to understand them?  Perhaps I think too much or maybe they are wiser than I think. Either ways I just laugh back to any question that I come across from the faces that I am still trying not to forget.

As the Brightness transits, I get involved with a being whom I have known all my life. For he is not the one who sticks to a spot and always glides along in the orbit, I try to make the exchange of thoughts brief and yet fruitful.

Xenophobic to the world soon before the view begins to slowly fade away I hear the voice, the one that I have listened to since the day I came into existence. The only voice that understands my silence even when I am crying out loud. Drawing the shades and drowning myself in the brief world which still needs to be explored, I fade away to finish what I started today.


some people are such treasures that all you wanna do is bury them.

Colors of Joy

The Holi Festival is a fun-filled and a popular occasion. Recognition of the festival for most us has been built by the ideas of colours, water and large bonfires. The festival is celebrated around mid march coinciding with full bloom spring. People believe that bright colors used are the symbol of joy and happiness. Life should be full of colours and each of them should be enjoyed and cherished individually. In the present scenario are we forgetting all this? Is the festival of colors no more considered to be HOLY? The adulterated thoughts of our minds are taking away what could be the last left traits of faith and love for our religion.

The exploitation of  law and order in the country goes as far as increased number of traffic collisions, infractions like ‘drink and drive‘, speeding, reckless driving, street fights and numerous numbers of such incidents. In the capital last year on the day of Holi, 7,957 people were prosecuted for various traffic offences, a total of 18,073 motorists were prosecuted for drunken driving of which 2,960 were given jail terms and 2,212 driving licenses were suspended.

The trend of celebrating the festival with the colors extracted from ‘Tesu’ (flower of the palash tree) and ‘Gulaal’ (colored powder) is replaced by poison extracted from the filthy greed of money.

200 children from Mumbai’s Dharavi slum suffered colour poisoning playing Holi Thursday and were admitted to hospital following allergic reactions, a hospital official said. All are now said to be stable.“So far 176 children have been admitted to the hospital with complaints of skin allergy, burning of eyes, giddiness and vomiting,”

we have to dip into our consciousness time and again. If we only look and play around with the colors outside of us we are bound to find blackness all over again, just like when we mix lots of colors together and the outcome of the broth is black. The desires inside of us are making us to take the detour of fun and frolic without seeing the consequences involved. With awareness, desire looses its grip and surrender happens and then nectar flows out from within. it is far easier to obtain the bliss from inside then it is to try the pleasure from the outside world, which in turn again requires a lot more effort.

All colors like red, yellow, green and orange should exist side by side and simultaneously be enjoyed together. Similarly in life different roles that are played by same person should exist peacefully. So we should lift our spirits with colors of joy and keep it going all year-long.

Wandering With The Worst

It was a normal afternoon in the city that was as much new to me as i was to her. Riding through the streets which were soon gonna be the part and parcel of my daily routine, i reached out for one the most commonly found gem in my cavern of treasures, a packet of cigarettes to be precise. Unaware about the fact that it’ll be the last one that I’ll ever hold between my very two fingers I pulled out something that I have known for a very long time. Something that keeps coming back at you, a thing of joy for people who think if they’ll smoke something it’ll all go away for a while at least.

The barrage of  criticism balked a streak of numerous attempts of desire against temptations. Taking its toll it left me with nothing but vain and despair. Struggling with the physical and mental symptoms namely

  • sweating
  • headache
  • insomnia

the urge to retrace the steps to the abandoned road mocked me every minute that i lived with it. With weak mind and a strong will mixed with constant reminders of sanity to self the task that almost seemed impossible and irrelevant once suddenly saw the light.

How ironical it is that we wound up abandoning the most desirable things in life.

Once more into the fray

into the last good fight that I’ll ever know…

I lived and died on that day, I lived and died on that day.


A little incompatibility is the species of life, particularly if he has income and she is pat-table.

– anonymous



Thoughts from a secluded mind:

Coming from a town which is hardly visible on the map, the clouded mind had its own views about the journey. Remembrance, Separation and a wild sense of setting the soul free. Sun was high on the mast and with a lot to carry on my shoulders including the luggage. I was ready to set sail for a journey from which i never wanted to return. The ever ready Urban transportation which is always ready to fall apart was my first step on the road to rebellion. Skipping the stones i finally stepped in the compartment which was going to be going to be my bed room and quite unknowingly a shrine for some soul-searching.

Beneath the stars and under the dark it was a moonlit night with a rare dogs bark. With only a window to see through the gloomy thoughts began to fade away as distance between me and the destination decreased. Along with the weather, the people, the language the feeling of abnegation also changed. Giving up a lot of things including the ones i abominate and love, the stage was set for me to take over!

Often i ask myself,” if u were allowed to turn back the pages of time would you handle the events in the same way”? Probably not, because clocks do not run backwards or do they? Whats done in the past, and what the future awaits for us, was, is and will be in our own hands. Do fates give us a second chance? In a way they just may……