DREAM? OR A BAD DREAM ? OR JUST REALITY

i had a dream last night  in which i was  being pulled apart from different  sides  with such insensitivity that  at times  it threatened to rip me apart  . now the reason for that nightmare could be a few so let me just cut to the chase .couple of months ago everything was hunky dory as i was a man with a plan . a plan  based on my needs , having all the ingredients to make it an ideal one,  like many aspiring individuals , where money , fame etc forms the bedrock of future endeavours , where everything was taken care of ,  apart from one  small but indispensable thing , which i only  realised after weeks of self evaluation and thorough overhaul of the so called ideal plan. only part that was missing was the  spirit ! or soul ! or whatever you call it!   i was  contend that atleast i have a plan in mind at a time when most didnt   ,  but now it feels as if  i m just another fake, like  thousands , infact i have  cheated myself  brazzenly . life,   literally out of my  command,   is making terrible headways  . it feels as if somebody else is taking decisions for me   . the whole situation , whatever it has turned into ,  has  caught me off guard n  is posing a serious question,  whether i m ready,  to make those necessary sacrifices to follow my dreams or should i be just another guy in the crowd n become the great indian follower . have i lost the ability  to create something on my own  or i m  totally subdued by my own prejudice . will i  be able to live my dream?   didnt i want to make it large? is it too late to start afresh..   inspite of these  sporadic nauseating grips  ,   every now and then there is a realisation,  a belief that  it's all just a bad dream ,  that i m gonna pull myself upright , feel the strength in my legs and would run  wild!  wild!   , deep in to somewhere spectacular ,  n never look back again ... ever 

SILVER LINING DRAWN

How can some one with those big curious eyes tells you to do something and you do it like a slave , how can they be so intimidating and arousing at the same time. how can one face become your identity and you cant identify with any other face crossing you everyday. How can each and every topic can be traced back to the same name. why is this even happening or m I getting delusional .why there are moments of total blackout and everything seems to be just waste. Why there is always a hope in spite of all doors being closed. Why does wait seems to be the most viable option instead of better ones like recovery . why everything is so normal  and why cant I feel it, how m I  supposed to function being heartless, aimless and soulless . why can’t I just move on , why my every attempt just boomerangs , why  I have knowingly  crossed the rubicon. What else does she wants from me ? I have given my time , my smiles, my tears , my love and some hate too. Still it feels as if its not enough . leave aside enough,  the cravings seems to grow gradually . robbing me off my dreams , my aspirations,  she managed to get not just the last laugh but has cast a spell of perennial sorrow .it messed my life , ruined my plans and still i smiled  , seemed to me some sort of dementia  which hushed the prudent voice n yelled the dreadful one, sabotaging  my composure n  keeping me restless beyond imagination  . sometimes its really hard to imagine life without seeing her in the college corridors , occasionally talking to her and once in a while sitting together. her sweet but commanding talks that often made me feel servile, her nice little pink lips changing colors depending on her mood  , her dazzling eyes which  expresses a whole gamut of emotions  ranging from concern , sympathy to  naughtiness , serenity and understanding .life , as far as I have realized, is like living in a very big hotel , the people in your room are the people with whom you are gonna get old with ,the silver lining is that anybody can come and go out of your room as they please...

what happened to us honey ?

I can’t  fathom  why don’t you come back to me  ,  have lived my lyf writhing in pain . it seems flames of my love have only burnt me , even if that’s the case I still believe u would see my agony n come back .  there is a limit to which I can wait, after that the blame for my erosion would be on u . myriads of thoughts crosses my head , just what can I do to feel u again in my pulses. I remember the last time I checked it n the change was apparent. the word missing u would be an understatement for your physical absence . Since u have gone it feels as if the life is blanched n left to look like a silhouette , honestly there is no desire to replenish it either . Staring at stars and soliciting for response, when alone,  is  a ritual  . should have known while foraying into this exclusive zone,  it’s impossible to retract . inspite of innumerable efforts , your clutch on my heart seems unyielding , thereby  making mockery of my endeavours. Don’t know when this uncanny tryst with pain would unravel n I will get my share of happiness, seems accessible yet masquerading. Stifling my desires just by closing  my  eyes n heaving a sigh of anguish is all I can do , not letting anyone know about the constant battle , which has been lost before commencing . As the twilight approaches my soul  plunges deep into stygian darkness  n makes me ponder why me?

the guy who sells tea

Light from distant horizon brought me back from my fantasies at the crack of dawn . I gathered myself  from the ruins of my dream and went to embrace the refreshing ambience upstairs. When I  was  casually strolling on the terrace,  I saw the guy who sells  tea door to door by himself. He has a stall nearby from where he runs his tea business .  once when I was counting , He had almost two dozen cups and two kettle and 4 pots. One of my friends and I used to go to his stall every morning though I usually took milk .  During one of our casual conversation the guy told me he has a son and a daughter  who are 8 n  6 years old respectively. His son usually accompanies him in the morning , Judging by the convo I had with him he seemed bright .  Every day they start their operation at 8 serving tea to various offices n households in the immediate vicinity. One day I was surprised to know that  he sells his first tea for free as he believes he is offering it to God for bestowing good graces on him .  Moreover, the man’s ethics n his customary tight lipped smile while serving tea implicitly  reveals   how much grateful n satisfied he feels in serving  tea.  Apart from Sunday his  stall  is there  everyday, whether its scorching heat, thunder rumblings or spine chilling cold ,it doesn’t  deter him to do what he does best i.e revitalising his faithful customer’s each morning with his palatable tea . As I recall, the platform built just across the road had been a place of so many happy memories for me n my friends as we usually  sat there  holding cup in one hand n newspaper in another discussing intriguing topics. It was simply amazing  .  yesterday when I went there again , I was observing him as he was serving tea to various customers ,as he served me , I promptly asked him how much money does he makes in a  month . His laconic reply was  ‘enough’ . The spontaneity with which he said brought a smile on my face. It was a smile of respect .  A day has passed but m still thinking how much for him  would be enough…………

DELHI DIARIES

It  went like a breeze of wind not waiting for me to catch on , now that it has already gone , it is mourned and will be for some time to come. As it is said  “ no knowledge without college”  , true to its core , it has been a learning curve , brought out my true self ,unshackled  the free soul within. apart from the five senses that we generally have , a new sense of freedom is also palpable , freedom to choose my own destiny  .my college days were usually marked by self indulgence  and self deprivation seldom  blending with the crowd. The invisibility in those 3 and a half years of cloaked existence is finally visible In the selfies  and group photos on fb. It’s a great risk not having any memories , any trapped moments or any final goodbyes ,  in a way puts u in a different category  but the risk was necessary  to maintain the status quo . overriding  an impulse to let loose  calls for an unyielding control which took years to blossom .now that everything is gone (may be forever)  , there is a great disbelief inside, a pandemonium in the making, which will subside eventually but not without teaching a worthy lesson . it takes some time to recover from a sudden stroke of reality however strong u are , pulling u back on ground with a force severe than most , bringing u back into the real world.   Now the only wish is to get lost in the unending  transitions  of pause and play, start and stop ,and likewise, in a city swarmed by  the multitude, which easily takes u in but makes u struggle for every bit of happiness .  I know that once this initial euphoria around the place would die down , it will be hard to sustain . in a trade-off  , for absorbing me inside, the city and I  have  a tacit covenant   which requires me to expose myself, no more self indulgence , no more air of mystery around  , just following  whatever the mighty heart commands  . this pursuit of self discovery does strikes the right chords  though it remains to be seen how far I m willing to give away what I have to get things that I really want . though the results are scant and not  reassuring , like numerous other  undertakings , the only way to snatch a few moments worth living is by diving into the inner cesspool and clearing all the mess that has been accumulated off late , pummelling my nemesis to its knees .

COLLEGE CLOSURE

When  I  opened my facebook page , I saw a caption luring me  to say  “What’s on my mind??”  ,I didn’t cave in during the first few seconds  but later on as seconds grew to minutes , I knew  my mental hedges were too fragile for my emotions to cling to  .finally succumbing to the rising temptation , I  had to yield .  Well!  In ,on , over n  under  my mind there is only one point . A point where everything seems to be hazy,  a point that was once an inception, terminated  to its worthwhile  end,  though a bit twisted  , snaking through myriad points . a point of inflection ,many would call it.  a point where it’s futile to either sprint  or jog as the tracks are yet to be laid out  , a rare point where memories score over  dreams  as the memory lanes  yearn  to be revisited  , a point where u want more but can’t get it in spite of  yelling at the top of your voice “ encore!”  , a point where u don’t know about your state of emotions in spite of constant scouring   , a point where both  meeting  and parting is of equal priority as the past drags n the future brags   ,a point where contrasting emotions prevail  n gives u a helluva  time making you choose whether to be stoic or to vent it out , expressing  yourself like never before , a point where in spite of being strangers throughout ,  u are expected to form  contacts ,a point which is a beacon of inevitable change, marking the end of an era , though coming at a heavy price ,a point where the path is divergent and the onus of  right or wrong turn is on oneself,  a point where u inhale and exhale in the same breath as if it’s one of the last few, a point where  all plans  seems unplanned , a point where  everything feels standstill, a point which is pointless….. 

A TRIBUTE TO THE IRON LADY OF INDIA :

A TRIBUTE TO THE IRON LADY OF INDIA :

Activism, strikes and protests go hand in hand with any major issue which requires an overhaul. Often a group of similar minded people forming their own fraternity n pursuing various causes with zest, indulge in it. but for how long ???? some would say until u get the desired result , what if u don’t get the result , for how long would u continue , obviously there would be some limit ,isn’t it???? but for irom chanu sharmila (true personification of resistance ) there is none . Hailing from Manipur she has manifested an impregnable resolution , in a way becoming a role model for people with similar interests .she began fasting in protest for killing of innocent civilians allegedly by assam rifles ( indian paramilitary forces) n has been on nasogastric intubation( feeding from nose) since November 2000. Three days after she began her strike, she was arrested by the police and charged with attempt to commit suicide, since then she has been regularly arrested and subsequently released . Epitomising defiance , she has been relentlessly opposing the AFSPA ( armed forces special power act) for over a decade. An avid follower of Gandhi , she has given a new definition to non violent protest, which was hitherto not seen n which even the erstwhile doyens would have found tough to emulate. caught in the vortex of countless promises and equivocal assurances , she has managed to trump all n exhibit her might at national platform .while all of us are enjoying our normal lives , she has been battling this cause in solitary incarceration . her sheer audacity begets reverence n should be held in high esteem.
at the end of the day its govt. call to either repeal AFSPA or not but this indian amazon imbues me with pride with each passing day.