Friday, December 30, 2011
Coming to the upcoming year,next couple of days have to be a bit stressful,as banking on some of the things which need to be settled out soon.Hoping each one of us will get the best of themselves.HappY NeW YeaR:):)
Monday, December 26, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Despite all his inadequacies, Dhoni ended India's 28-year-long wait for a World Cup win and led the team to world's No. 1 Test status. What makes Dhoni click seems to defy logic but what makes him a hero to millions makes more sense - he hails from a small-town with modest means and unlike other success stories, Dhoni has shown that anyone can make it big with hard work. He gives the small town enthusiasts the belief and confidence to dream big.
This year Time magazine named Dhoni in its list of 100 most influential people in the world. Time's description of Dhoni was penned by Chetan Bhagat, saying:
"As astonishing as Dhoni's talent is his background. Indian success stories are usually associated with pedigree, connections and power. Dhoni, from a small-town family of modest means, had none of these, but he's shown India that you can make it with only one thing: excellence. Dhoni doesn't just lead a cricket team; he's also India's captain of hope. And he didn't just win India the World Cup; he also taught India how to win."
-----------------------------An excerpt from Yahoo India-----------------------------
Saturday, December 17, 2011
We try to speak out something,but don't get the words to express ourselves.
We do try to emulate someone,but it still doesn't work out.
We do witness some illusion,but cann't sort out what exactly they points out.
We do say something,but we means exactly the opposite.
It does happen that we say something,but then get confused why we said so,and confuse ourselves what exactly we meant by that.
It does happen that we need some backup at times,but it does feel bad when we don't get that at such crucial times.
Life is nothing but a game,showing up new players every now and then.It keeps on changing all the times.From the time we are born,we comes across new people,make new friends and witness new moments.
I still remember the first day when I went to school,and got a new bunch of classmates.We fought very badly for a small chocolate,and used to get angry when one gets the bigger bunch of share than the other.But it does felt great,when the other person exchange his share,and both agreed finally on sharing it equally.Similarly,the time when someone cheers up for you,getting happy for you and be there in your misery always motivates you to do well.
But it is actually ephemeral.Life keeps on changing with time and people do change with their changing priorities.But is it right?Why cann't we always remain the same?
Darwin's Theory of adapting with the change has always been significant.But this strange feeling of missing something has always been a nightmare from the very childhood.Actually I don't know,what does it actually means.But this feeling has been the same..........
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Saturday, November 12, 2011
I saw her first hoping she would have looked me back.
I thought her to be shy and busy with her life,
but the first impression is not always right.
She was talking and I was listening,
I loved to listen and listen and listen,
I also started my chat with the kid at my back,
It was good,things seemed to have changed.
Then one fine day,I asked her for a tea,
she replied me back in assertion,
and it was great.
She was good,she was comely,
I was a good kid and it was sweet.
We loved to talk and enjoyed our walk,
Everything was good,things were fine.
It's always good, to have a friend,
who is there in your misery
and is always ready to help.
But luck has its own plan,
I had to move on.
But she was already a special person,
whom I respected a lot,
but never missed a chance to make her laugh.
From now on we regularly talked
and went for some casual walks.
This was really good,as we celebrated a lot.
I told her everything with my life,
she was my best friend,
whom I trust a lot.
She had some problems,everyone has his life,
I behaved a bit immature,but soon realized that I was wrong.
We again became very good friends,
and again luck had come to my side.
Had some real good moments in my life,
not sure whether it was some magical force that came back again my side.
Whenever I listen to some good music,
she is the first person who comes to my mind.
Don't know what is my destiny,
and what luck has put up for me.
But she has been the most lucky and charming person,
who actually came to my life.
So much help,so much advice,
So many good moments and so much fun.
Will never want to loose her,
even as a good friend.
Now after some time,when things are going pretty smooth,
looking at the luck,dream or destiny,
really puzzled what luck has put up in store for me,
and will I able to get my dream or destiny.
But one thing is for sure,
that I want her to be happy
and she also wants the same.
Just want to let the things to go,
the way they are going.
Is it a really big deal,
or will I always be a small kid,who don't want to grow up.
Hoping to be with her,as a good friend forever.
Just hoping that my luck also wants the same.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
I am just about to complete a year here.The reality is that every city has a different culture and a unique flavor.So comparing two cities is ideally not right.Talking about a few different cities,the city that comes to my mind is Varanasi,my alma mater.Once you enter in Varanasi,you will be getting a different feeling altogether.The wonderful farms,lotz of crowd and animals,but the best part being the food which you will not find in any place else.Be it the Kachori-Sabji,Jalebi,sweets,lunch or dinner; you will surely forget all the Starters and Main Course of the best of restaurants.The other things that I would like to mention is the Ghats and temples,which are truly the lifeline of Varanasi.You will actually realize the meaning of life if you will sit alone on any of the Ghats for just 10 minutes.The kind of satisfaction and peace that we get the ultimate rest to our soul.People are cooperative and full of blithe.You will actually get the real meaning of being unbothered here.The one thing that can bother you is the crowd,which is growing every day and the wonderful roads which are full of dust.Still the city has pretty to cheer about and with Varanasi being the oldest city and the cultural capital of India,there can not be any replacement of Varanasi.
Don't feel like writing more.So quitting this post in between.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Saturday, September 24, 2011
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Monday, July 4, 2011
Friday, June 24, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Finally my last day at the organization came.I will really miss some of the best moments of my lifetime.It was a great learning experience and will help me throughout the lifetime.Also did some of the most funny things there and it reminds me of the naughty memories of school time when I was kid.Life always gives you something to cheer about and that's what I learnt from a good friend there.I will definitely miss Sametime chat and evening walk that was a part of last 1 month.Hoping the things will remain the same in my next tenure starting from Monday.The following poem is just the gratitude towards my organisation and sweet friends there.All the best to each of the friends working and I know they will excel in whatever endeavors they are possessing.
Here I sit
In a seat that’s reserved
To take me to nowhere
Looking out the window
At the ground that’s growing smaller under me
Tears turn dry on my skin
Trying to hide my eyes
As I wave goodbye
to my heart
That’s staying behind
Crying …hiding… Struggling with my smiling…
Could this be heartache
That I’m denying?
Saying goodbye to the one
That made me feel like me
That I’m wanted
There where I want to be.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Saturday, May 14, 2011
The Eyes Have It
I HAD THE TRAIN compartment to myself up to Rohana, then a girl got in. The couple who saw her off were probably her parents. They seemed very anxious about her comfort and the woman gave the girl detailed instructions as to where to keep her things, when not to lean out of windows, and how to avoid speaking to strangers.
They called their goodbyes and the train pulled out of the station. As I was totally blind at the time, my eyes sensitive only to light and darkness, I was unable to tell what the girl looked like. But I knew she wore slippers from the way they slapped against her heels.
It would take me some time to discover something about her looks and perhaps I never would. But I liked the sound of her voice and even the sound of her slippers.
‘Are you going all the way to Dehra? I asked.
I must have been sitting in a dark corner because my voice startled her. She gave a little exclamation and said, I didn’t know anyone else was here.’
Well, it often happens that people with good eyesight fail to see what is right in front of them. They have too much to take in, I suppose. Whereas people who cannot see (or see very little) have to take in only the essentials, whatever registers tellingly on their remaining senses.
I didn’t see you either,’ I said. ‘But I heard you come in.’
I wondered if I would be able to prevent her from discovering that I was blind. Provided I keep to my seat, I thought, it shouldn’t be too difficult. The girl said, I am getting off at Saharanpur. My aunt is meeting me there.’
“Then I had better not get too familiar/ I replied. ‘Aunts are usually formidable creatures.’
‘Where are you going?’ she asked. ‘To Dehra and then to Mussoorie.’
‘Oh, how lucky you are. I wish I were going to Mussoorie. I love the hills. Especially in October.’
‘Yes, this is the best time,’ I said, calling on my memories. “The hills are covered with wild dahlias, the sun is delicious, and at night you can sit in front of a log fire and drink a little brandy. Most of the tourists have gone and the roads are quiet and almost deserted. Yes, October is the best time.’
She was silent. I wondered if my words had touched her or whether she thought me a romantic fool. Then I made a mistake.
‘What is it like outside?’ I asked.
She seemed to find nothing strange in the question. Had she noticed already that I could not see? But her next question removed my doubts.
‘Why don’t you look out of the window?’ she asked.
I moved easily along the berth and felt for the window ledge. The window was open and I faced it, making a pretence of studying the landscape. I heard the panting of the engine, the rumble of the wheels, and, in my mind’s eye I could see telegraph posts flashing by.
‘Have you noticed,’ I ventured, ‘that the trees seem to be moving while we seem to be standing still?’
“That always happens,’ she said. ‘Do you see any animals?’
‘No,’ I answered quite confidently. I knew that there were hardly any animals left in the forests near Dehra.
I turned from the window and faced the girl and for a while we sat in silence.
‘You have an interesting face,’ I remarked. I was becoming quite daring but it was a safe remark. Few girls can resist flattery. She laughed pleasantly?a clear, ringing laugh.
‘It’s nice to be told I have an interesting face. I’m tired of people telling me I have a pretty face.’
Oh, so you do have a pretty face, thought I. And aloud I said: ‘Well, an interesting face can also be pretty.’
‘You are a very gallant young man/ she said. ‘But why are you so serious?’
I thought, then, that I would try to laugh for her, but the thought of laughter only made me feel troubled and lonely.
‘We’ll soon be at your station/ I said.
‘Thank goodness it’s a short journey. I can’t bear to sit in a train for more than two or three hours.’
Yet I was prepared to sit there for almost any length of time, just to listen to her talking. Her voice had the sparkle of a mountain stream. As soon as she left the train she would forget our brief encounter. But it would stay with me for the rest of the journey and for some time after.
The engine’s whistle shrieked, the carriage wheels changed their sound and rhythm, the girl got up and began to collect her things. I wondered if she wore her hair in a bun or if it was plaited. Perhaps it was hanging loose over her shoulders. Or was it cut very short?
The train drew slowly into the station. Outside, there was the shouting of porters and vendors and a high-pitched female voice near the carriage door. That voice must have belonged to the girl’s aunt.
‘Goodbye/ the girl said.
She was standing very close to me. So close that the perfume from her hair was tantalizing. I wanted to raise my hand and touch her hair but she moved away. Only the scent of perfume still lingered where she had stood.
There was some confusion in the doorway. A man, getting into the compartment, stammered an apology. Then the door banged and the world was shut out again. I returned to my berth. The guard blew his whistle and we moved off. Once again I had a game to play and a new fellow traveller.
The train gathered speed, the wheels took up their song, the carriage groaned and shook. I found the window and sat in front of it, staring into the daylight that was darkness for me.
So many things were happening outside the window. It could be a fascinating game guessing what went on out there.
The man who had entered the compartment broke into my reverie.
‘You must be disappointed/ he said. ‘I’m not nearly as attractive a travelling companion as the one who just left.’ ‘She was an interesting girl/ I said. ‘Can you tell me?did she keep her hair long or short?’
‘I don’t remember/ he said sounding puzzled. ‘It was her eyes I noticed, not her hair. She had beautiful eyes but they were of no use to her. She was completely blind. Didn’t you saw?
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
Khushiyo ka khazana tha.
Chahat chaand ko pane ki,
dil titli ka diwana tha.
Khabar na thi kuch subah ki,
na shaamo ka thikana tha.
Thak-haar k aana school se,
par khelne b jana tha.
Dadi ki kahani thi,
pariyo ka fasana tha.
Barish me kagaz ki kashti thi,
Har mausam suhana tha.
Har khel me sathi the,
Har rishta nibhana tha.
Gam ki juban na hoti thi,
na jakhmo ka paimana tha.
Rone ki wajah na thi,
na hasne ka bahana tha.
Ab nahi rhi wo zindgi...
Ek BACHPAN KA ZAMANA THA....
Khushiyon ka khazana tha.....
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The term ‘submission to God’ is a deep and divine term when it is followed in true spirit. We are not expected to visualise God but to worship Him and adore Him as a Protector.
I wake up everyday, my eyes opening to the serene sound of the Azaan, every word finding its way into my consciousness as the new day dawns with the promise of a new beginning. I don’t know Arabic, but the words and their impact are so evocative that it is easy to recognise and submit to the One Power that protects and guides us, and surrender and submission to the Almighty is but an expression of Divine trust.
The day goes on with nothing but a daily routine. My holidays are going on, but with the 10th boards ready to occupy my mind, i tend to frown a lot, worrying about the future. The evenings are meant for tuitions but the brighter side is that on my way i can hear the beautiful sound of the evening prayer.
The sounds of solace give me a feeling of protection and this prayer tells me that someone is out there to hear and know. It takes me to a different world, a world that may not be real in this day and age but is still alive and these prayers have kept it alive in a conventional kind of way.
Salat or Salawat is the name given to the formal prayer of Islam that serves as a formal method of remembering Allah. The prayer, one of the obligatory rites of the religion, is performed five times a day – at dawn (fajr), noon (dhuhr), in the afternoon (asr), at sunset (maghrib) and nightfall (ishaâ). Prayer is also cited as a means of restraining a believer from social wrongs and moral deviance.
These prayers are a medium and it helps us to remind ourselves of a God who looks over us. Whatever we do, we will receive compensation or otherwise in the here and now. Heaven and Hell are not places to which we are destined to go, but they are states of our own mind. Any religion, which can successfully help us overcome material influences, has to be scientific, and spiritualism is just that.
For me spiritualism is not a compulsion or a daily routine. It is a feeling i get when i smell a flower or look at the clouds. For me helping an animal is spiritual.
I remember the day when i helped a cow with a broken leg. It was hard to move her from the middle of the road but my father, determined, called the Sanjay Gandhi hospital and meanwhile we gave the cow water to drink. Seeing her being rescued from pain and the maddening summer heat i felt liberated as it brought me closer to the Almighty and His Creation. It was like offering a prayer and being rewarded, too. The happiness and joy i felt at that time was immense. That is spiritualism to me; that is my namaz.
The writer is a tenth class student in a Delhi school.