Like a star

As clueless a star, I stand,

Looking at the millions like me yet varying.

Oblivious to what is in the end,

Hoping the journey isn’t scaring.

Sometimes twinkling, later dim,

Sometimes bright, after fade.

Few moments I wished, to zoom and sim,

Few feelings I wished, to sneak and evade.

For the stars I cared, fell too soon,

And the breeze I waited never came.

All I now have is the moon,

The breeze that promised was just too lame.

Few mighty stones, who had my trust,

And the big mets who shed their words.

The former broke my heart, to the crust,

And the latter sliced me, without swords.

I’ve grown up now, a little too old,

Now wish to live with no secrets to keep.

There’s no one left to stand and scold,

Whose shoulders on which I could quietly weep.

Though sometimes I deeply think,

By the time they sum up all.

Few merrily with happiness, sink.

Will I stay here struggling or sometime slowly fall?

Ten things that sets the King apart . . Shah Rukh Khan

1.      He is super energetic and uses all of it for his work or in the things that shall yield him something.

2.      He is confident, knows the balance in over doing it or under mining it and strikes the right balance.

3.      He knows where he stands and works hard to get ahead, even when he is ahead of the rest.

4.      He reads a lot, and hence has a little knowledge about everything. Biographies, science-fiction, poems, literary fiction are among his favorite genres.

5.      He is a voluble yet profound speaker, a master in interacting with others and chooses his words carefully, a rare combination.

6.      He dreams big. His position in the industry, production house, vfx studio and other business ventures are a testimony to it.

7.      He is utterly kind. Given his stature globally, it is easy not to be so.

8.      He laughs off most of the things that can bog any individual down. And has nice dimples to complement his charming smile.

9.       He seeks competently what he doesn’t knows instead of taking things for granted. It has to be nothing less than the best, he believes.

10. He sleeps less and lives more, as simple as that.

Posted by Aditya

She - A gush of wind

It had rained yesterday, and the side roads were wet. Just the phase when summer enters monsoon and the heat is unnerving.  The sun at its zenith ensured that. I was all sweaty and it was a tiring day, like every day now is. I enter the path in shade and about to reach my home. A strong gush of wind flows in, it feels cool. I close my eyes and look down to resist but I feel good, it comforts me, I smile for the little treat. The wind stops and leaves a luring fragrance, I know the charismatic scent, I am always out of breath at this smell, but I still want more of it, I am addicted. I open my eyes and there she is. In a fluorescent muslin cloth jacketing the pretty white shirt she wore. She had wayfarers put on, the brown glasses concealed her eyes but I could see them as nicely as without them. I wish she stopped, not for me but just like that, without a reason, just stop for a while so that I can gaze her for as long as I want. But she went, without even noticing me, maybe she didn’t wanted to. In a moment, there was no one at the place except me, sometimes I doubt my own existence. She felt better than the cool wind, I smile for the little treat and think that love is not just a feeling, for I don’t blink, breathe and I am not sure about the beats my heart take after she comes and before she goes.      

Posted by Aditya

Let's die with a loving heart

If you’ve ever loved someone, you’ll know that it isn’t easy. It is the happiest, the most amazing thing to have happened to you, but it isn’t easy. We sacrifice things, we are at our best, we see this world as a happy place, and we are humane. There has always been arts dedicated to love, or say it as art is a form of love too. But if you’ve ever been in love you’ll know, anything ever said for love fades paring with the gush inside the heart you sometimes feel. It titillates your feelings, it enhances the journey because the art says of what you’ve always wanted to say but were short of words. That the amazement gets more exciting when you know that this is what everyone in love feels and that people have done so much for the sake of it gives you courage and a placid sense of comfort. You are ready to militate the world only to get whom you love and feel that nothing better could ever happen in live. You dream no more than being loved by the person you love. And the more interesting part is that you are in sheer unconsciousness under the influence of love. “And therefore is winged cupid painted blind,” said Shakespeare once. By the time you get to know that love is the severest form of addiction known to mankind, you’ll have your heart broken in two. But you’ll still love, because this is how it was meant to be. Hearts were made to be broken, and you’ll soon know it through the same arts that showed you how beautiful love is that you are not the only one. That the same artists who tickled your fantasies while you loved will soothe your soul in pain while you still love, this time with more hope, faith but less the contenting happiness. Some shall retort to hate, with the same intensity to which they loved. Because they feel life wasn’t fair to them and nor was God, little do they know about the world and its unfair ways to teach you the right things. They hate the way they have been hated. While some don’t cease to love. They know the goodness of the person they loved and the sacredness of love itself. They have a saintly conscience that tells them about all the right things in life only because they’ve been through the same unfair drill. They tend to love the person more because they know that everyone has choices and they were not the right ones for the people they loved. So they better themselves and try to be the best they can while in the pursuit of love. They never lose hope, and keep the faith intact, they believe more than they previously did. And if destiny grants, they get what they want, and feel that life is magical. That everything in this world is possible if you are willing to chase it to the end, with the same belief like when you started. Even if they end up without the one they craved for, they are a better person now and they credit all to the one they loved, with a smile. They die with a loving heart. And the ones who hated the way they were hated, realize sometime late or never at all that loving is the only happy way to live, that hating damages themselves more than it does to anyone else, that it is an easy way but not the right one. They carry the same broken hearts to their deathbed, and never know that only loving heals the wounds of heart. They die with a wounded heart. Let’s love for a living and forget that there is any other way to live. So we all die with a loving heart.             

Posted by Aditya

Better late than never

How nice does it feels to do something for the first time. It fills you with excitement, either it exceeds your hopes or falls short of it. But the feeling is nice, your eyes glow up, you feel ecstatic. For the people of Mumbai, it was a day something they expected much earlier. Still, better late than never. And Mumbai, it never disappoints. On board the metro today, you could see people smiling, eyes which carried hope for a better connectivity felt relieved. Office guys seemed happy their way back, a rare sight in my sweet city. Kids waved back at everyone they could see through the glasses, with happiness, with fun and their parents, they felt they owned everything. That they belong to it and why not, it gives them their livelihood without ever ceasing to move. Still the Mumbaikar feeling, it nicely maintains. Crowded people, smelling of sweat than of cologne. You don’t know but still you talk with them, share with them your opinions, feelings and forget them when they board down. How nicely it resonates our life, I think for a while. And then I know it belongs to me, it belongs to everyone who lives here. For the people, it was a dream come true, ‘better late than never’.

Hope our people maintain the sincerity, co-operate with the ones there for our good and for our safety. And hope our city connects better, without ever ceasing to move.     

Posted by Aditya

Hope

I was neither happy nor sad, it has always been like this after the setbacks I had in my life. Ups and downs, it really didn’t matter now. I had always made things up in my mind. I always thought if I was given a chance to regain what has been lost, what I miss the most and the reason of all my afflictions. If God could feel me as his part like I do, he should barter with me over everything I want, but that wouldn’t happen, given the conflicts we face for possession of a single thing.

            I slept that night after few efforts, insomnia hits you right when you think life is at its best.

            I woke up all sweaty, in a land that felt a little hotter than warm, in sand, a big bright sun at the horizon. Before I even realize what all this is, I am struck with a voice. It says aloud my name and it gives a sharp sensation to me. But I am too shocked to react. “Find what you’ve lost in life” the voice says, loud but not harsh. Nothing, I understand. All silent, I crave for the voice I heard because my sight is empty and I can hear nothing. Only the voice felt companion, even that vanished, just like everything in life. I’ve never been in a desert before, neither did I wished to, this way at least. But the voice kept ringing loud in my head. Did that meant I’ll get everything in life I lost? If it did, I am ready for it, to sacrifice my life in search of the things I wish were mine. The sky with the sun, and the sands with me, I walk ahead, though I had no destination. I keep walking and the words “Find what you’ve lost in life” echo in my ears. Not for a second did the lines annoy me or I curse my mind to be stuck to it. The simple thought of giving up doesn’t fancies me, I am energized with a will to transcend whatever I’ve ever been. I had a purpose now, and they say, when something becomes your purpose only death shall lead to its termination. I walk and the dusk falls, the air gets cooler, breezier, I sigh relief. I don’t hesitate for a moment or stop anywhere to catch a nap. I don’t even know where I am headed but I know that I’ll find what I’ve lost, what I had once loved and still do, that is the sole purpose. Sometimes later, I decide to get some sleep, I dream about all the things that bothers me and am amazed that it is only one thing. When I wake up, I remind myself that I am not here to sleep, and again start my journey. I walk with double the potency, re-energized. I walk day and night, the only break I take is when my body gives up because my mind never does.

            One month passed by just like a whip of air. No signs, no voice, no clues, no leads, where do I go? What do I do? I sit and weep, I cry like I never did, my tears are the only drop of waters I see since I’ve been here. I manage myself, encourage me, and start walking again. My legs have started aching, there is no one here to help. My head feels heavy but these are not reasons I shall stop because I am in search of what I’ve lost. So, I go on.

            It has been five months, since I am with these sands and one thing I’ve learned that they walk with you until you walk with them. My mind is still as gutsy, no tiredness, not a single sign of dismay. And sometimes I hate myself for the way my body tries to disrupt my purpose. I lie there under the moon, I feel to go on but my legs cease to move, they’ve become anesthetic. I’ve also forgot the way I looked, but that doesn’t matter. It’s been long since I’ve uttered a word but I feel that consumes a lot of energy. I lie there quite, just the way I’ve always been, quite. Five months gone and I am still with nothing. Even the voice that screamed my name aloud could mean a wonder now. I feel my pulse stopping, the rate of my beat surging down. I wish I don’t die now, I’ve so much to get, so much to achieve and so much to live for. All within a moment, the voice comes again screaming my name, telling me who I am and asking me to get up. I want to say, I can’t help, I really cannot help myself. My eyes contain dried tears and the skin roughen up. The voice says it knows I’ll find what I am searching for and will definitely do so. I try to smile. It says it has something for me, and I think what. Maybe it understands what I think. Two glasses of water I see, with half my eyes open. One at a little distance and the other a little more. I want to jump off and get those but I know that’ll rip me apart. So I crawl. I struggle for the first glass, I find it in my reach and feel nothing better in my life could happen. I drink in a single breath. I wish I wasn’t dead because that made me feel like in heaven. I go a little further and drink the second glass, I smile. I feel nice. I am thirsty for more, I have been five months without it, I deserve more. The voice asks, “You want more?” “Yessss,” I scream and let my voice vibrate the air surrounding it. “If I lend you more, you’ll lose your purpose,” it is the last thing it says. I hope I understand the way it was meant to understand. I give a big, cheerful, teary smile back. I have nothing else to give. I thank the voice loud enough trying to match its loudness, and I am back with the same energy I started with, five months back in quest to search for what I’ve lost. There never goes a day where I don’t think about it. I thank every time for the two glasses I was given, because I wouldn’t have lived anymore if not for those drops of water. I walk on and I know I’ll get what I want. I have someone to look after me, it has a voice and I know it won’t fail to keep me alive, keep me happy.

            One night, long after that day when I imagine the reason for me in this desert. There comes the voice again –

            “The winds are your thoughts, the desert your loneliness, the sun nourishes you, the moon quenches your thirst, the stars are the ones you miss, your purpose is a hope that keeps you going and you know who I am.”

            I walk without the fear of if this desert has anything for me, because I know I’ll get what I’ve lost.                

Posted by Aditya