Through the Looking Glass: A Garden of Words.

Books are not just pages filled with inks, scribbled thoughts, voiced opinions, uttered pains; they are a medium, a very sublime medium through which you find connectivity. It's not important that you be an avid reader but books are that kind of friends of yours who are with you through the thickest of sadness and the thinnest of happiness that comes into your life. It's like a patient doorknob to a world of inner peace which waits always for you to open that door and walk through its exotic garden of variety. 'Book', the very word is soothingly mysterious. People wonder how readers read books; it is just as mysterious for the reader's to think why people cannot read the 'book'. It might be baffling to even listen to each group on their views on reading as a hobby, nevertheless more or less we return to books.

I personally have a soft corner, a very delicate soft corner towards books. I don't prefer the course books much but the other books, the autobiographies, the fictional world, the non-fiction attract me like a magnet. The fresh smell emerging from within the books have an aroma worth deeply inhaling. The pages, the words, the meanings lying within them have always invoked in me a desire to divulge into this Ocean of written word. Starting with the course books of English Literature, reading those excerpts from the varied novels which succeeded in creating a thirst in me to know more as to what happened next, my reading flowered from its nascent bud at a very early stage. Marking my first destination as reading the fables and the folk tales and then moving onto The Arabian Nights and not much later I was reading, grasping and sinking into Mark Twain novels. Characters like Tom Sawyer and Finn lighted the mischievous candle within me. The abridged versions of various contemporary classic novels such as Moby Dick, The Count of Monte Cristo and the like and the prose forms of Shakespearean plays made me look at human perspective through an entirely different angle.

My 7^th grade final examinations were approaching. I was supposed to study but my eyes fell on The Famous Five and my hands gripped it. That was the start of my first addiction towards detective or rather suspense, adventure kind of books. I remember being chided by my father sorely when he discovered that I had story books below my course books but I couldn’t help. The novels were so engrossing, addictive that in the following year I ended up either buying or reading them from the library and finished all the 21 books of The Famous Five series. The book infused me a confidence that size doesn’t matter as long as you have presence of mind and are a keen observer. Slowly, I moved to Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys’ collection. This new found interest made me observe more of all that occurred around me, made me feel for the characters. Books are not just some pages, they have an entire life trapped within them and the readers through reading it, give it a chance of freedom, a sense of satisfaction of having been able to invoke human emotions through its words.

The journey continued and I started reading novels in my mother tongue. The classic novels by Bankim Chandra Chatterjee have made a special place in my heart. The way he portrayed the problems faced by the women in those days, the capability of a women in times of stress, the problems of the society as a whole and the scorches of the British Raj is worth stirring a thought in our minds: We are in a much better luxurious world but we have lost that enthusiasm to live and enjoy the simple things of life. We have become lazy and have become dependent on non-human brains rather than extending the horizons of our human minds which researches is the most advanced on this planet. Tagore’s novels, poetry, short stories dealing with everyday human relationships and the connection between nature and humans gives an insight how we humans irrevocably and irrefragably turn towards who provide us with solace and how fragile we are despite the materialistic riches. The detective genre has a tinge of native suspense and thrill which creates a chill in our spine. Works by Sarath Chandra Chatterjee extensively on women in the household scenario holds in front of us a neglected but important issue of how we treat those who rock the cradle and rock the world.

I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of Library!!! 

The years rolled by, the surroundings changed, human priorities changed but all through this my love for books hasn’t diminished but increased manifold. I hover around books, sleep with them, wake up with them, spend my days with them. They say next to acquiring good friends, the best acquisition is that of good books. Works of Khaled Hosseini, Paulo Coelho inspired me that beyond all evils lies a deep layer of truth, humanity that is still intact. Their works showed that circumstances are not the fate of men, but men are the fate of circumstances. It filled me with a hope, instilled in me a belief that “When someone leaves, it’s because someone else is about to arrive – I’ll find love again.”

Today, I figure that it was these books which made me evolve and developed into a person I am today. Sometimes, we just need to listen for it is an art to listen to someone patiently. These books, the characters in these books, they made me a patient listener, invoked in me that spark of humanity which might go unnoticed but is extremely vital: Listening. Sometimes, I feel them in real life and they help me to deal with situations. Sometimes, I need answers and they are there patiently giving me answers to my countless queries. Sometimes, I just need a friend and they are there to divide my grief with them and double their joy with me. These books have proved to be an all-in-one and one-in-all combination.

For:

As Charles William Eliot put in and I quote, “Books are the quietest and the most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counsellors and the most patient of teachers.” and unquote.

The House That Shelters All!!

Memories bring with it a grinding pain. A pain so distraught, so pinching that it can drive away the cheeriness from your soul. True, there are happy memories but they have a feeble count as compared to the enormous count of bad memories. They do not come on being summoned. They knock the hearts door without a notice and invade the brain without warrant. Memories make you grope and make you vulnerable and force you to stretch your visions wide to make yourselves calm. But the turbulence it has caused in the heart, the memory it has formed  in your mind, the way it has mixed up with your soul causing a lump in the throat at the very instant you are reminded of it is hard to go unnoticed. You feel like literally chopping yourselves to atleast relieve yourself of this staggering pain but you are unable to do so. They make a film of themselves and run a fast motion picture or rather an animation to make you live every moment again that you struggle hard to forget. Yes, time heals all wounds but the scar is hard to go, itching forever and making you feel the pain of it no matter how little.

Looking before me, I stare at a ruined, almost mixed with the soil, broken down house; A house which used to be my home; A home where I have stacked so many memories that it would fill an entire encyclopaedia. I stepped foot in that house just short of a few days before my fifth birthday. I still not have found out the reason why the fifth birthday in many households is celebrated with such glamour. I remember a hundred over guests being there on my fifth birthday and I remember running all over that big house every now and then just to get used to it. It’s not that I was in a small house before but this once seems special. I was in my lower kindergarten class then. I remember measuring my height by marking them against the wall and checking each month. I had a bus stop in that shed belonging to the colliery office. I was the youngest of the lot then and I vividly remember the games we used to play every morning , the hideouts we used to discover, the prank on the poor night-shift office workers and the flowers growing wild in that office. I remember, visiting my neighbour’s house in the morning to find out why that particular girl isn’t out of the house yet. It was an half an hour ride from my house to the school and I remember my mother looking out of the house to wave bye to me. Slowly, the years rolled by. My sister came by to keep my company then and we had the first accidents. I remember spotting snake thrice on my courtyard. Our house was very near to the forest and I used to hear hyenas and foxes howl at the dead of night, see rabbits crossing our way and a variety of owls perched now and then on our neem tree.  I remember the diwalis spent lighting the diyas on the roof, the durga puja held a few hundred feet away and I remember the chatt puja being celebrated down the way towards where the stream flowed.  I remember the changes made in the house since we have been living. I have heard it’s over 85 years old and from a single room in the beginning it had expanded a lot and has been modified a lot.

I am reminded of a countless other memories when suddenly i stumble over a big stone and come back to reality. I am now facing the debris of this house, this house which has witnessed my entire school life, has witnessed the lessons I learnt here, has tried to keep itself unaffected from the rains, suffered the mine explosions silently. I look for marks, for signs that I might have left but all I can see is our name scratched on the drawing room wall by my sister on the last day we left the house. I was at my college getting all the news from my family about the progress the mining project is making, of the other houses which have been brought down, of the numerous letters my father has been receiving with an immediate order to vacate this house and move elsewhere. The shovels are nearing, the explosions are causing much deeper cracks in the walls than before, the windows, doors and other objects are rattling more than ever now and we all shall be leaving that house forever. Soon, the stuff is packed, the memories on the walls of house abandoned and left to decay and fade away and we move into another house.  This one is bigger, has a garden even: something which I always have wanted to have and in one word: good as a house.

East or west, Home is THE Best!!!

But will it be as good as the old house which is my home still in my subconscious mind, will it be able to imprint upon me in a way, my home has been able to? Will it be able to give me that secure feeling that I always had while at home? Mining away coal, people have had to move from their homes to new places. They say the mining business is some 200 year old. Have they not been able to find the kind of machinery needed to dug deep down and get the coal that they say is lying beneath us without parting us from my home? Since childhood, I have read of “rehabilitation and resettlement” but having faced the torment it creates—I come to realise that the effects are devastating than we can ever imagine it to be. I believe myself to be lucky in that way but what about those who have lived all their lives here and have made their livelihood out of here. What about the culture we had here? Reading about these does cause a stir but as a wise man once put it: you cannot feel the level of a pain unless you have experienced it.

You may have got new homes, got new means of earning your living, maybe in dire consequences your economic conditions might have been improved but you can never erase that pain of being detached from your home, you can never wash out that burning pain of seeing the house of memories before you all crumble to pieces. Today, as I stand before my house, looking all over and trying to fix as much as I can in my mind about how my home looked, I feel a sting of pain, an wave of nostalgia passing over my heart and tears starting to roll down my eyes as I finally spot the mark where I marked my height. I wish I could hug it one last time.

Through the years I shall live, yes life will go on as it always went, I shall not forget thee. I shall return to you and be grateful to you for having sheltered me all through thick and thin. 

Those Cherished Days.

Throughout the vicious life cycle, we traverse through many levels. We learn something new, something worth implementing in each of them. We obtain various life skills in each of them. Sometimes use them, sometimes misuse them but as they say it making mistakes are a part of learning. Success is how much you bounce when you reach the bottom. It is not defined by what position you are in rather it is defined by how well you maintain that position. The levels complicate, paths become treacherous and trodding on them without the valuable life skills becomes dangerous.  But in the midst of all these, you do not forget the basic trajectory of moving forward.

School, the very name rings bells of nostalgia, cuddling eye-watering memories, untold secrets, moments of achievement, moments when you have felt the world around you go black, mischief’s, group punishments, first friends, bench mates, classmates and all kinds of mates, recess and the list is endless. It is like the house of ants, you don’t know how many are inside but when one comes out, then all come one after the other. It is the base of our growth, a foundation stone of our existence in this world. The school life in any person’s life plays a very significant part in shaping his future. Not that everybody gets the all-happiness coated school life to grace himself with but nevertheless each and everybody’s school life teach him lessons most apt for him.

Starting a school life as a lonely girl has its achievements: you always have an aura of mystery around you and grudgingly you enjoy it. Children are skeptical about making friendship, they are prejudiced with their own simple give and take policies. You share a chocolate, you are a friend, the very next day you are no less than a stranger because you disagreed to share your favourite tiffin with her. This is the general rule of friendship for the first 3-4 years. Your bench mate is automatically your best friend for that year. In the midst of this you fall back on making your group of friends because you have chosen to remain quiet. Out of the blue as they put in “there’s always a way”, you are presented with an opportunity to form a group and you savour that moment and that friendship with all your heart and soul. The class monitor who happens to be your friend makes you run errands for her. You happily run them because you feel you get to be close to them, you make-believe a fantasy that you are her close friend. You don’t actually think of her as your friend, it’s just a consolation prize to your empty soul which till then no one has been able to capture.

But patience bears sweet fruit and there comes a girl in your path with whom you can be yourself. She happens to be a newcomer and you are made to sit with her to help her out. You form a bond with her, a special bond. Apart from just helping out, you teach each other the values of trust, forgiveness, sharing, apologies and fights. Pulling her hair out of fun you have your first ever fight and you come to know the value of friendship. You confide in her your likes, dislikes and she tells you of her life. You wonder about the different lifestyles and expectantly wait for the whole day just for that language class so that you can pour your thoughts to her and clear your mind. It feels strange but you don’t talk to her outside the language class despite being in the same class.

Then middle school comes running by and your language class friend extends her friendship to more than just being confined in the language class. Meanwhile your group friends also extend their friendship and you feel happy. But it takes a stone or two of insults to make you look through their sugar-coated smiles and words to see how misguided you have been. You tend to be on your guard and you finally after a series of repeated insults, betrayals become indifferent to their remarks and turn a deaf ear to it and your back to them. You miss them but the moment you show your humane nature, you are treated with the same feelings of disgust as if you were some street mongrel just fresh out of gutter. You tend to become more introvert, hibernate your saddened heart to infinite sleep. You concentrate on the remaining friendships you have and on your academic life.

He who opens a school door, closes a prison.

Studies have revealed, people who have an incredible social life fail in their private life. Keeping par with the statistics, you excel in them. Those early morning group studying almost every other day because your language teacher is very strict; those applying different tactics to escape being punished, sitting on the last bench with the open book in hand and while the whole class stands for failing to answer, you answer hideously looking into the book. Birthdays become a nightmare for the birthday bumps seem no less than atom bombs, giving code names to teachers is a norm. Slowly the time passes by and suddenly you realize that in a few months time you are going to appear in your first public exam. But wait, you have a very important lesson to learn before you complete the first significant level of your life. This introvert, timid girl has to stand up for herself. Misunderstandings have already crept into your life and you have been verbally abused in front of the class day in and day out. People have questioned your character and you still chose to be numb. But one single blow has changed everything. Your parents have been accused of not giving you enough food to eat, you are called a beggar and that inflames your blood, it gives a spark to all those years of being silent and trying to ignore every injustice hurled at you and you pour out all that you have in your heart.

You think of yourself as being cursed and unlucky but you were in a delusion then. It was through those injustices, through those not-so-good experiences that God prepared you and made you what you are today. Today, you are no longer influenced and affected by such trivial remarks, you laugh it off. You understand the motives of people, you are a better judge and you are practical enough to survive in this world. Now when you see other people in your shoes, you guide them and feel happy that at least someone was saved. Though the wounds are hard to heal and have left a scar you look forward to life because you know that it was a delusion. There is a greater world beyond it. With tears in your eyes, you now remember those moments of happiness which shall always be registered in your heart and with a smile in your face you are reminded of countless incidents.

Detached and Unaffected!!!

"Far from the mundane crowd I crave for a chair under a huge shadowy tree, where I shall be able to sit for hours and contemplate on my life. It's not that I seek an escape route from this humdrum world but sometimes just rarely I long for utter silence. The world is bleak and selfish and finding Homo sapiens who actually care for you is a difficult task. I personally believe that God does take immense care in providing us with at least one such individual. I am glad I got some species who would actually stick to me through thick and thin. But seldom, I am lost and I give in to a normal human tendency in which the only thing I want is to be left alone."

Man is a social animal. Society forms an impenetrable circle from which there is no escape. It binds you to its set rules and regulations. It censors your actions more strictly than even your family and its terrifying gaze is bound to set you to shiver. No matter how much you would like to break-free of it and escape but in reality there is no escape from it. You might think that becoming a hermit will freed you of this devilish tentacles but you are wrong. Living a life as a hermit is just another way of surviving in the society. He longs for his communion with the God almighty, renunciates the materialistic world in search of true spirituality, but is not all these abstract terms like society, life an extensively embroidered work of spirituality, obligation, materialistic desires weaved in such a manner which cannot be distinguished? In his pursuit of searching Holy peace, he gives in to the extreme way of existing in this world but actually he hasn't succeeded in escaping.

We all develop our own motto to breathe in this world. Some be light-hearted and don't give much thought to the problems gnawing at their existence and live for the present moment, some others are pretty short-sighted and sulk over problems unworthy of given much thought to. While some others are far-sighted and ponder over the greater good coming out of temporary sadness and yet some others are there who mask themselves with a face which depicts nothing --- neither sadness nor happiness. Whatever motto we choose to follow, we do so being the creator of circumstances around us and not the creature of circumstances.
As Cassius puts in,

"Men at sometimes are masters of their fate:

The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,

But in ourselves, that we are underlings."

Many a times we give in to circumstances and after being the initiator for the circumstances to occur in the first place, let the Devil govern our actions! Often it results in our committing mistakes, hurting people around and becoming what we hate to be. We seem to be correct and moral to ourselves but we forget to keep ourselves in others' shoes. In this strange hypocritic selfish world where everyone is running and minding their own business, those who drift from the normal trend are automatically subjected to torture. They know not what went wrong, are unaware of their faults but they grieve over the fact that they no longer share that leisurely laugh with a certain person. Might be both of them are right on their part but what I believe is, there should a bit of compromise, a bit of considerate thought given to both sides of this Court of Attachment so that it remains balanced. For all you know, "As you sow, so shall you reap."

Sometimes we tend to forget what we really are in the madness of becoming superficial. People hurt us and to avoid that we become cold-hearted, show indifference to everyone so that no one can pinch us. But in the process we unknowingly hurt some people. We are right on our part but we forget all connections and interactions we had, just to achieve a single selfish, bitter goal. We tend to forget that,

"Away, beyond all concepts of 

wrong-doing and right doing;

There is a field.

I will meet you there."

...which echoes the very base of humanity and it's existence...

Be a human and act instinctively for it's always right and will help you in riding the pillars of success well. 

Stop worrying, Start living!!!

How will you describe "LIFE"?

Life is really a big maze with puzzles at all levels with transparent hints which are hard to locate against the opaque harsh black and white background. A single life’s duration is not judged by the span of one’s breathing. But it is judged by the number of footprints it makes in those hearts who have contributed in any way to her very existence. It’s a slice of bread which gets coated with layers of happiness, sorrow, friendship, jealousy, truth, lie, and loads of love topped with a slice of humanity making the "sandwich" complete.

But this definition is only ideal in nature. The correct implementation and practical execution of it is hardly attended to. Starting from the very second of being conceived, the very first lesson that the embryo learns is, “Life is a race!” In this extremely fast society, if you are not open to changes, if you are not updated, if you don’t acquire a social status; you are termed to be a social outcast. A social status hardly complies with your norms, your wishes --- it is largely influenced by what is glamorous, what is high-statured. People grumble over this sad, pathetic situation but in reality hard take action to curb this menace. Pressure from parents, teachers, peers makes a child vulnerable to becoming a competitor and excelling in all that he does. But in this process of excelling and making others happy, he makes a huge sacrifice of giving up “LIVING”. He drifts apart from his family, friends; misses the small talks, the random laughs; forgets to take out time for himself.

I listen to stories about youngsters or the so-called heirs of the family, who in the process of getting addicted and engrossed in winning this race get totally engaged in their ambitions that their want for success blurs their complete vision, making them go blind in their personal life. They are never satisfied, never actually happy with what they have achieved. They ignore their friends, their well-wishers who have helped them selflessly, take for granted giving time to their family. The only thing that holds importance in their life is their work and of course 'salary' which grows at a accelerating rate.

But in this maddening race for materialistic luxury, they start losing their own identity, their own desires and passion. Just to get the smell of paper notes having a distinct numbered value, they overlook the small things of life which come easy. They “dedicate” themselves completely into earning a decent social status and slowly they grow hungry or rather greedy in earning a higher and still higher status, all the while neglecting their humane needs. But before they actually realize, they have suddenly grown old and are on the verge of resting in peace. They are so engrossed in implementing E.S.Hooper’s words, “I slept and dreamed that life was Beauty; I woke – and found that life was Duty.”  that they forget that there is a family to attend to, children waiting to be taken to the fair, wife waiting to be praised, friends waiting for a reunion and their very passion waiting to be nurtured.

A man once said...

"First i was dying to finish my high school and start college,

and then i was dying to finish college and start working,

then i was dying to marry and have children,

and then i was dying for my children to grow old enough

so i could go back to work,

but then i was dying to retire

and now i am dying...

and suddenly i realized

i forgot to LIVE!"

Please don't let this happen to you. Appreciate your current situation and enjoy each day.... old friend!

"To make money we lose our health,

and then to restore our health we lose our money..

we live as if we are never going to die,

and we die as we never lived... "

So, in the end I would just like you to ponder upon some basic questions. Is being a human with rationality, feelings and above all respect for those who hold you as important for life so unappealing? Is going beyond the bundle of paper notes and maintaining social status so hard?

The Language of the Heart!

Man continuously tries to define and redefine himself.  The fire of love encircles us all. In our desire for basking in that glory of love, we cross all boundaries, overcome all obstacles, defend ourselves from the challenges of all the whirlpools trying to engulf us and stand triumphant. Love is such that it can be found at the most remotest of corners; at the most dreadliest of circumstances.  It is not confined by mere human boundaries; rather it patches up with the one true caste of humanity that exists and spreads its roots.

This circle of love gears itself up for the various phases of an average human being. Starting from the tingling of the heart muscles in response to that particular, cute, slightly sensational stimulus, to courting the beloved and executing the biggest deed one has been sent to this earth for ---i.e.  Marrying the beloved. Marriage in its very name holds an essence which is embodied in every individuals soul from the time the umbilical cord was cut. It is a bond which fills the woman's forehead with the sacred vermilion  makes a man complete by being his mother and wife at the same time and scientifically fueling the progress of the species.

But as the saying goes, "You can control the mind but not the heart." Likewise, man somewhere or the other even if he draws a line cannot control this wild tender emotion which controls the sail of all the other emotions and anchors itself into someone's heart and soul. It does not discriminate in terms of caste, creed, race, colour, nationality, financial condition but rises above these worldly discrimination onto a level where there is pure pleasure, where tranquility and subtle gestures are given importance to! So, the mere divide that is created by us only.

Love is the stepping stone to marriage and inter caste marriage is the alter for it. For when two people rise above the level of Divide, they are bound to be made one by this custom. Inter caste marriage brings with itself several advantages. It provides an exposure to the rituals and customs of the spouse and brings with itself an aura of majestic wonders. Nothing can be more rewarding than sitting in a room and realizing that opposite to you sits a person from a different ethnic group whose cultures, rituals and maybe approach to life differs from you but who has vowed to enrich his life by your presence and work towards making a footprint in the process of discovering you. You tend to become rational in your thoughts and actions, you tend to adjust, you tend to think beyond the normal social circle, you tend to be virtuous rather than being sceptical. As put in," Intercaste marriagelead to the possibility of bringing intelligent and more advanced progeny due to the distant gene combinations. Inter-religion and inter-continental shall be even better."

But are these situations enough to sabotage the institution of marriage? Dissolving all the meager notions and beliefs and rituals thriving for centuries is it actually possible to ignore the arranged-astrologer-consulted marriage concept? Instances are not rare where we get to hear the compulsions on the wife in general are put to give up her religion, her beliefs and adapt to her spouse's religion and customs. Many a times the situations turn grave and result in dire consequences. The composure is lost, the promises neglected. Confusion, misunderstandings creep in, unjustified loopholes are attended to. But to what avail! The domestic peace is lost and the child is the main sufferer of this wedge in the family.

But as a silver lining, the inter caste marriage dogma is proving to be a success. When the world is progressing fast as a global village and accepting, acknowledging and respecting the others' culture is becoming a norm, can we as humans not think more rationally, more humanely to bring about world peace in our own way? Where the younger citizens of our country will belong to a state called India!!!

Burning the Soul!

It stings to be bruised with a force that is hard to heal. They say time heals all wounds but when the cut is so deep so as to make a permanent mark on it, where does the Morales , the rules of 'healing of the wound' go? You stretch your eyes forward, you vow yourself that you will remain unaffected, no matter how delirious, disastrous and heart-breaking the surroundings around you put up to test your integrity and will power, you are not supposed to reveal your pain, you are supposed to conceal you shattering torturous pain within you because you are without a confidante, without a soul who will calm the turbulence in your heart and mind. You are supposed to remain indifferent because lest you show your pain and suffering, you are bound to be chided and shooed away and you burden yourself with more pain than you intended to. You might have gone to dispose off the pain in the mere hope that you will be listened to, attended to with a protective, soothing voice but Alas! You are mistaken and disillusioned.

Is this particular individual, not a human being with humane feelings? Is she not entitled to the subtle gestures from her friends who have the power to divert her from her cyclonic state of mind? Does not she have a heart? Just because, she has undergone some damn serious situation, does that classify and segregate her as an outcast who should only mechanically breathe without complaining and provide happiness at all those around her? She does not complain that she is making others happy, but what displeases her sometimes, just seldom someone will make her happy, bring a smile onto her face and listen to her ramble. Yes, it is irritating to listen to the same thing repeatedly but, she desires that sometimes the person she looks upon will put herself in her shoes and see and feel the world through her perspective.

At the end of the day, 

Close your eyes and you Will see

The Person who won't give up on you!

Life is really a big maze with puzzles at all levels with transparent hints which are hard to locate against the opaque harsh black and white background. They say where there is a will, there is a way. But the instincts don't always help you out, they don't always protect you from what is inevitable. Every action is a precursor or a successor of a process. If you are strong enough in your beliefs, if you are able to make out the camouflage of signs, may be just may be you can avoid or overcome or stop the inevitable.

Once, a girl at prayer time was resuming her talk with God, whom she has designated as a special friend, as a friend who would help her out in his own way, who will be her confidante, will not mock her at the same time chide her in a way that she rectifies her mistake. So, on this particular day, she was talking and sensed that God was sad. She was concerned and asked Him the reason for his discomfort. Her Friend said, " You said you will be able to protect your friend but tomorrow it seems that you might not be able to keep your promise." The girl became worried and asked why did God feel so. To which, He replied," Because whatever, you are doing is not completely right. Yes, the universe conspires to make it happen in that way but the devils are also at work to taint her plans, so be careful." The girl partly pushed aside her worrying thoughts and concentrated on smiling and enjoying the moment.  But that proved heavy on her. The nest day her friend did fall into a pit of seemingly shallow trouble and she could do nothing to help her. She realized that since the morning, God had tried to warn her, had tried to make her aware of the hanging trouble that was about to anchor itself but she did not pay heed to it and failed in keeping her promise.

You need not be an ideal person in an ideal state to be at peace, all you need is to be aware of your surroundings and take charge of things. You need not be an atheist or a theist to be able to decipher the signs for a theist may be a total sinner without regret while an atheist may be a total devotee of righteousness. So, be a human being with rationality, feelings and above all respect for all those who hold you as important.

Look: Beyond the Manual Horizon!!!

We can be but partially acquainted even with the events which actually influence our course through life, and our final destiny. There are innumerable other events--if such they may be called--which come close upon us, yet pass away without actual results, or even betraying their near approach, by the reflection of any light or shadow across our minds. Could we know all the vicissitudes of our fortunes, life would be too full of hope and fear, exultation or disappointment, to afford us a single hour of true serenity. Is it mere telepathy or does it remain hidden behind the veil of our short-sightedness? Is it mere coincidence or the sequence of events of a long chain --- all interlinked and interconnected covering their signs of our destiny?

Sleeping between the class intervals is a common feature all of us are very well acquainted to. So, on a certain slight cherry, bright day I was executing this very action when I dreamt of two certain close friends of mine. In my dream, one of them called me while the other's father whose wife is suffering from a rare skin disease literally wept, lamenting over his wife's sudden deteoriating health. I wake up with a thrust, trying to recall the dream and the revelations it brought along with it, enough to speed up my heartbeat. And lo-and-behold, they all prove to be true. My friend's mother is in a serious condition, my other friend is not fairing well in playing her cards at the moment and I sit here helpless and despondent. But the bigger question lies in the mystery, how did I correspond to the unseen vision that something is amiss. How did the randomness of occurence become so exact, so aptly timed that I or for that matter someone else would have failed to feel the mismatch of events?

They say, science deduces all to a physical concrete on-paper proved formula or relation or law or a thesis and anything not fulfilling its category is termed as not existing, unimportant and superstitious. But, the very question lies here that throughout the history of this earth, things have happened beyond simple reasoning and logic. Have not we heard of humans who are able to hear "voices"? Do we not believe in signs and try to act according it? It is something we refer to as intuition.

An event that happens with us may have numerous speculations, numerous reasons as to why it is directed to happen in the way it happened. At the unlikeliest of places and at the unlikeliest of situations, we tend to have the most unforgettable of experiences, the most tension-freed laughs and of course the most cherished of memories. A mere human being loves to be surprised, loves to be taken aback by things he least expects to happen and loves to relish the thought and the moment. Beyond the horizon of the naked eye, lies a greater sky of discovering oneself. There lies a distinct language and code wherein all actions, all outcomes, all results are engraved and which do not change with the tides of time.

But sadly, in our lust for becoming the most superior race of the world, we have more-or-less forgotten to give a fraction of a second to those subtle signs which if given attention can change the direction of our perception. According to a Japanese spiritual leader, "We all live in a transition world but our actions are reflected in the real world. The real world, which is in ideal state where  the disruptions occur merely because of our wrong actions in this transitory world. In a entire lifetime we will live our life such that the highs and gains of our life are balanced and when we finally rest to peace and the soul is freed of the bondage of our body, we will be in a neutral state. Nobody can plan what will happen or nobody can change what has happened but we can attend to the subtle details, figure out the signs from the opaque surroundings of ours to better ourselves. We can serve the mankind to which we are obliged for whatever we are.

The world is emerging fast, technology is gripping us more and more tightly in its hold, science is succeeding in driving out emotions from us forcing us to overlook things, signs, gestures which we otherwise have given a thought to and introspected about. We live more and more luxuriously day by day, "socialize" more than ever, boast of having the widest networks but in this mad race we forget to live our life, we forget to enjoy the moment we have been gifted, forget to show our gratitude towards The Supreme Power for being so fortunate to be bestowed with such gifts and forget to pray for all those souls who gave up their priorities just to make us happy.

"The angel's smiling at you, beckoning you to come rest your over-stressed head in her lap and feel the presence of that divine halo form around you and bask in that blinding light of primal state of that world where we crave to live."

Call 1098!!!

For all you know, smiles can be deceptive. A person with the most pleasant smile may snuggle in his heart the fiercest of torture she might have experienced. There is more there out in that highly hypocritic world than meets our naked eye. Even scrutinizing through a magnifying lens doesn't cover all. A child's life can be heaven as well as hell. Starting from his getting out of his womb, he is surrounded by various hideous intentions with the humans she interacts. The least angle she expects to be hurt by, she is hurt the most.

A normal child is expected to wake up at her mother's warm beckoning; get ready while day-dreaming of his wildest charming fantasies; go to school to carry out all pranks but studying; come back home and throw the bag, loosen the tie and throw himself on the couch and after a hurried lunch throw himself at the ground to play. But the luckiest of lucky children now get this beautiful fairy tale life to experience. The majority are groping about in some kind of darkness waiting to be liberated from the myriad tortures outlined in there.

Child abuse is not an issue that can be solved in one conference or act. Its a weed which is hard to uproot, hard to completely eradicate. Its like the water hyacinth which regrows as soon as the alarms are put off and expands its territory larger and stronger than before. Recent surveys have shown that 53% of the children are subjected to molestation and other abuses. A child need not be abused by a random stranger only. He or she need not be in a isolated place, all desolate and lonely to be taken advantage of. In the most crowded of places, in the unlikeliest of situations a child can be subjected to any form of abuse. May it be a seemingly harmless touch of a hand or a forceful intrusion upon the privacy of a child.

The worst and the most disgusting part of child abuse is being cornered sexually by ones kith and kin. The very people whom you trust, whom you are taught to respect take advantage of your innocence and destroy your beliefs, your attitudes. Cases where the brother molests her sister, the very sister who ties a Rakhi on his wrist asking him to protect her are not uncommon. Step-mothers forcing daughters to get involved sexually to complete strangers to satisfy their needs are not beyond the horizon. Cases pop out of the boom box now and then with the weirdest and most shivering stories enough to cause goosebumps about the punishments hurled by the various communities on these children for petty issues. Instances are there where for three-four decades at a stretch, the child has been molested and and raped hundreds of times to satisfy the dragon's lust. Is this what the children take birth for, is this what they dream of in their fantasies? Is the anger vented out on a daughter who takes birth after three years justified just because her husband shut himself to her?

The first and foremost duty is of the parents to groom their child well in their formative years. No matter how conservative they might be, they should not hesitate to build a strong sturdy bridge of friendship and communication with their children. True, this is India; here "sex" is a highlighted word which rings a bell in the ear always. Despite the hesitation, the parents should do the talk. They should guide their children to be more careful. Its true, you cannot avoid the evitable but atleast you can lessen the aftermaths of it. Children should be made aware of the helpline numbers available and they should be provided with honest police officers who don't take advantage of their vulnerability and help them. Only then the growth of this weed can be slowed down and might be finally fully eradicated.

"There was this girl who was as pure as the serenity of the mountains at dawn and light as the wings of the cotton seed dispersing her radiance and purity everywhere she went. On the cherry morning of her birthday which happened to coincide with the celebrations at her school, she waited for a friend of her father's car to come in sight. The car did come in sight and soon she was asked to sit beside the driver's seat. The girl's father's friend was not at the wheel. Rather a driver with evil intentions sat there nonchalant. The girl oblivious to his intentions sat without any hesitation. She was a mere eleven year old child that time. The driver did not think twice before sexually abusing the child who could just decipher the action being beyond normal but could not muster as much courage to protest than and there. She was unaware of what actually was going on with her. Behind her friends laughed and cheered away and she continued to feel more and more puky. The thirty minute long ride to her school became a haunted nightmare for which she could only pray to get over. What was to become a memorable cherished day for her turned out to be a torturous haunted experience for her. She forced herself to smile, forced herself to perform at her best that day. But it lingered forever in her heart and burned her every instant of her breathing and more so from the time she realized what was done to her on her birthday..."

Coatings of the Conqueror!!!

It is ironical, that the heart is the strongest as well as the weakest organ, the social animal has. Life is all about turbulations, breezes, storms passing by but don't we tend to get weaker day by day though the tussle goes on in our mind to prove ourselves that we are strong. Our eyes does see things, our ears does tickle at the sound vibrations but it's the human tendency that it loves to cuddle itself into that thought which proves to be the most soothing, the most apt to the heart. For in the midst of the weird and incessant humdrums of the cursing and disguising blessing as a  human life, love provides a welcome distraction in the beginning and if it end's with a unhappy note; it does grudgingly linger in the person's heart.

Love is at its fiercest and most vulnerable form when it knows its insecure, raw when it fears it might loose itself. Its that when individuals in love effort tirelessly to ensure that everything is alright. They are in their best behaviour, compromises are made at the blink of an eye, making the other happy is not a burden but a blessing. The surroundings are dimmed because of the increasingly illuminating light of love. The radiant glow is hard to go unnoticed. The smile is broader and brighter than ever, always sticking to the lips. The mind in a dilemma between day-dreaming and everyday chores forgets to take care of itself, forgets to give it a rest.

The fact when we try to strain ourselves to appease the other through merely superficial basically materialistic things to make the moment magical does actually steal the spark out of that relationship. True, doing something special for the beloved does spread its roots deep into the heart but what joy can be compared to just sitting on a silent road, holding hands, speaking nothing but echoing their feelings at the same time, a soft breeze blowing, the trees whistling...???

Love from the time of Adam and Eve has always been an ecstasy, a feeling best experienced. The Cupid has been an ever active angel on Their part in making people love and getting them together. But today, in this increasingly  selfish, manipulative, demanding world; it's failing to complete its purpose. Its enthusiastic start is on the rise given the lucid picture I get before my eyes always. But the days are generally not far away when discrepancies creep in, Misunderstandings starts to form his strong sturdy wall of Barrier and slowly they are drifted apart by the wind of ego, prestige and largely false impressions. But still, true unselfish, unconditional, pure love is there. When a person experiences that heavenly feeling, when he feels that radiance in the smile of his beloved, in the way she cares, is blinding and mesmerizing. It's because of these subtle gestures in love that it lives through the storms, sails her ship holding on to the wheel and finds a shore in their case.

They say that life is a school where education never ceases to exist; but its my earnest wish that the most invaluable things of life should not be played with. They should be respected and worshiped because they give the very value to your survival. so, to the Theists and Atheists of Love ---
"Learn the alchemy of love in such a way that you become the master of it; not the mere seeker."
And here goes a commonly uncommon story:

A girl of humble surroundings goes about her way slowly completing her life circle. she is aware of love but oblivious to being in it. She interacts with all, but she captures the special attention of another individual exploring his passionate side. Needless to say, they submit to circumstances and experience divine happiness. And the story continues...

Looking Within!!!

I can't help Stop regretting for what has already occurred  I can't help suffocating to almost death over the Situations that I have created, over the lifeless on-goings in my Life which actually are unworthy of being given attention.

No matter what, some things don't change. I am a bad Girl and always will remain so. No matter what I do, my past won't Stop punishing me and make me feel less guilty for ruining my life, my innocence, my true principles and beliefs, my carefree smile.

And on the top of that, I hurt people who have done no noticeable harm to me. I want to hug, I want to deeply snuggle into someone's chest --- whether, it is a friend or a sister or a random stranger --- to get that temporary solace for which i am earnestly craving for. I boast of being a Strong girl but underneath, I am a fragile creature; ripped to pieces at the very first blow of my near and dear ones. 

Just wondering at the number of Wounded Souls who were once Fresh Blooming flowers and I seriously marvel at the capacity of this Social Animal when Put to stress, the capacity with which It withstands every storm and hopes for it to subside to absorb the Sunshine. The eyes which give away nothing and withhold numerous sorrows, regrets, untold wishes from the beholder just in fear of being rejected again. That smile which brings a smile on the beholder but kills the originator every second of the smile. Surely, God has taken extra care in building us. If it were not so, we would have been able to survive all this turbulent ups-and-downs in our life and more-so would not have been able to breathe again in the hope that someday, sometime everything will turn out to be alright..

I salute those who in spite of undergoing piercing hardships and tortures in their life, strive every second to make their life count, to make others happy, to bring a smile on every sad face. Its my wish that someday, I will bring a Smile on their face which would not be a Fake one but a Genuine one --- Straight from their heart!!!