Monthly Archives: June 2012

The little princess


There she was..looking through the reflective glass, into her dreams. She looked once more before taking her eyes off the pink velvety corset that decorated the golden haired and blue eyed Barbie. Somewhere in those eyes reflected the emptiness that denied of her dreams for the very moment.
For her, it was always difference. On her daily walk to her school, she had umpteen number of things to compare. But the curious part of the whole comparison is that she always felt on the lower half of the scale. Right from the moment she steps out of her house, she lifts her head and revolves on her feet, not to view the morning sky, but to see the tip of those concrete sky scrapers that always shadowed her small home.
She walked past the noisy gate. She slowly placed the gate lock, so as to not make it fall. She walked slowly over the pavement, sometimes kicking the stones or humming the rhythm that her teacher taught her last day. She heard a loud noisy chitter chatter and long horn nearing her. And sooner her second subject of comparison whistled past her and stopped a few feet ahead of her. Soon, a bunch of her likes entered the school bus, making as good noise as coming from inside. She always wondered what is happening inside, as she never had a chance to go to school in that bus. Once in school, she had a peep into the bus, during her lunch time. All she saw was empty seats and drawings scribbled in metal by broken pencils and crayons. But still, she could not make out what was the difference in the happiness of her friends who rides in the school bus than her lonely walk through the pavement. But the fact is, she always loved walking to school. She thought of the fresh smell of the soil wet by mist, the old man next door, who always smiled at her on his slow morning walk, the rising noise of the birds in the park round the corner. Still, she felt she was somewhere below the scale.
When she reached school, the assembly had already begun. She slowly pushed herself to the back of her line. All she could see was glittering whiteness of the shirts and the pitch blackness of the shorts and the mirror shine shoes. She passed her glance to herself and she saw that her years old uniform was old dime in the cash box.
She left her thoughts and reached the class. It was the final day of the year and the day of results. Though not the brightest of the class, she always had numbers to make her future, she didn’t knew what exactly those number stood for. For her, it was the smile on the face of the teacher who gave her report and the little treasured moment of hers was the only thing that matters.
Soon, the hall got filled up with parents and she could see all glitters and shiners swamping the show. But in that crowd, she could hear desperate whispers of failures, harsh comparison to the scores of neighbor kids, challenges, offers that got missed because of criteria not met scenes. She started to get her heart beat high feeling the desperation and the aspiration around her which was alien to any kid of her age. At that moment, she heart elites seeing her parents entering and grabbing her in their warm cuddles. She blushed and stretched the report to her father and mother. They had a look and said “so my princess is happy of her achievement”. She said “yes” as usual. And they said, “we are proud to be yours”. Thus said, they walked away with her still in their arms taking her to that treasured moment of hers. While they walked back to her small home, she had a glance to the showcase of the shop that she watched everyday. She smiled and turning away, that for her small world, there was no room for anything else, except for the overflowing peace and happiness without which she cannot live being herself.

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A mile apart


He was staring at her. His eyes were locked with her eyes. he could see her that were transfixed on him. He felt like it it keep on looking at him, even if he closed his eyes forever. In her eyes, he saw his entire life winding out again.

Those eyes.. years flew behind him. He was standing at that lonely corridor. He was waiting. he knew she will be coming this way. It was in her he felt his dreams coming true. His aspirations to build life revolved around her and he was waiting. Waiting to her that she will make his life. But he was confused. How will he tell everything in his mind to her, when she is accompanied by her usual ring of friends. he hated them for not giving him his space, for not allowing to make his heart opened out to her. Still he waited with hope. And now he could hear the faint music of her anklets. he always enjoyed that. When she walks, he felt the music of her anklets drives him to another world. And he waited with his eyes transfixed to the end of the corridor from where he could hear her coming. Something stuck him hard. he couldn’t hear the usual chitchat and the noise that her friends made? Ss she coming alone? Does she knew that He was waiting for him? His heart pounded fast.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. There she comes. A few books were pressed to her bosom, eyes fixed on him, she was walking straight to him. He was stunned. She stood in front of him as if she was waiting for him to speak out. He felt like if he doesn’t speak now, it isn’t going to happen forever.And in that empty corridor of the college, he laid his life in front of her. She heard everything with utter patience. Her eyes gleamed as if she was waiting to hear this for a very long time. And thus,she stepped her foot into his life.

Life – A long life of togetherness. They enjoyed every moment of it. At times, they were afraid that new life born into their world will take away their love. But they were wrong. The bond they made went stronger and stronger and build a life and gave life to their two children. They lived their life, caring them and watching them make their own life and fly away. They weren’t sad about it. After all, they flew once to live their life.

All their life, her eyes spoke to him and it does today too. These long years of life hasn’t taken that youth of the young girl who decided to share her life with that man who loved her more than his life. And their she sits – right in front of me. Her long jet black hair gave place to white silver lines. her cute cheeks were crumbled by the sagging signs of old age. But still her sweet eyes stared at me, asking me what was in my mind. I shouted out to her, that I still love you more than my life and want you more than ever. But no sound came out of my mouth. Lying in that hospital bed, and watching her beside me, and realizing that the life is bidding farewell to me, I saw her hand right next to my hand. It was a inch away, but I felt it like miles. I couldn’t life my hand to touch her. My eyes looked at her with all the love in the world. As always, she knew my heart. She laid aside me, with her head resting on my shoulders and her hand tied across me.

I felt the warmth of life leaving my body. But my soul could feel the warmth of my love that followed me even at the very end.

Not all the faces


There is a saying in my native. “There are seven of a kind for each person.”
And once I start traveling around, I am finding that the saying is very true to be believed. Of all the new people who enter my life in this new city, I find someone from the past quite similar to him/her. I can say its a coincidence, but always that is not true.
I have noted a lot many similarities in behavior, talks and nature of people which I could relate to some one I know from past. Even if you make an attempt, I believe that you will get the same conclusion.
There are many logics in this world whose explanation is beyond human senses. What we actually do is accept on a reason and passion for the next generation. Our life span is not long enough to find answers to these time consuming questions. Still as humans we have achieved that any other life form could have possibly achieved.
Still we will never be able to explain how perished life return as if recycled. For our convenience, we had invented many stories or myths to support the same, but I know or we all know that is no base foundation for any of these. They are all just lines drawn on water.
I hope to get more inclines or thoughts shared by anybody who is reading this. Because I am also absolutely clueless about this fundamental question.

The desert


Sometimes life takes me into such a mode when I really think the turn I took is really right or not. Driving through one way road with the time is not as easy , where is no reverse and relook at the gaps.
Goals in life makes you dream and make you aspire and inspire yourself. But the inspiration starts to either wither away facing the desert road that is needed to reach the dream.
come on, desert is so hot that it dried up my words also.

May be I will return after finding an oasis…

In the lands of Persian dreams


The last breath of hope, it’s never the last. Things always stop and back in life with old glory and compassion.
I feel the same when I am scribbling these words for my beloved blog.
Things have changed in many ways ever since , I posted by last blog. I am no longer in India. My work has taken me to the beautiful land of persian culture, where people sees hearts in faces than pre assumption. I have lived in multiple places in India, but here I feel a difference, which I cannot express in words.
The beauty of the serene city Tehran is absolutely mind blowing. You can never get a picture of this outlook of Tehran without being actually here. The soft conversations I have with my colleagues, so true and clear like a image in the mirror which makes me feel so home in the company of like minded ness. More and more I experience the cultural enrichment in the life of persians and the value they give to the change of time is much appreciated compared to the complaints I have seen and do see around in the democratic freedom of India.
Few things I learnt from my short 90 plus days in Tehran are quite eye opening to the attitude I had as an Indian. Nationality is a feeling that comes from the pride of being the national. It’s more of feeling light in the achievement of the country than complaining about the lacking.
“Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder”. The very true statement from the time eternity which is true to tehran. City well maintained, glowing in the night in twinkling city lights, with no tall buildings omitted. Each bridge, high walls painted with images that reflect the Persian glory. Streets where people has the courtesy to not throw the trash around, but use the garbage tins. The government who has commitment to clean up nook and corner of the city everyday morning. It’s quite more than the expected when compared to India.
How much I smiled at strangers in India? How many times I have said wishes to a stranger passing by on road? By now, for it’s nothing but a part of my life. As I said in the beginning, in here, I see the people’s heart in their eyes. I would rather say that the life of the Islamic republic of Iran is not achievements of today, but the heritage of the rich Persian culture in their veins.