He could smell jasminum, he stared at his half burnt cigarette, “surely this can’t be scented”, he thought and smiled. He had opened his car door and sat with his legs on the pavement. She’d call soon, or if she doesn’t?

It had always felt like a dream, to know that she is real, to see her in physical form, to hear her speak and being able to look at her too. A dream!

He wasn’t in love, that he knew. He was a practical man with a good degree and job that he owned, plans for his future and a woman he wanted his future with.

And yet he was here, half hour to midnight, in the parking of a hall, waiting for another woman.

“I just have to see her” he reasoned, “why?” , Someone inside retorted. At this point ge shook his head, crushed the cigarette bud in his figers and stood up. He planned to drive away as his phone beeped and if there was a heart rate counter, it would’ve beeped faster too.

Opposites attract? No!

Unattainable attracts.
Humans wish for what they don’t have. Now it’s there choice, to make the wish their need and work for it or let it stay a wish, a pain in the heart, a tingling of the nerves, a glitch in normal brain function, a wistful image, a page in the book, or just a sigh!

The stars were dimer than usual. He wasn’t a start gazer either, he had only looked up to break free of the trance he was going in. She was walking oit of the lobby. Not how he had imagined, She looked different!

She held up maroon banarsi sarhi carefully, her hair in small afro curls around her shoulder. People would say she looked crazy, not easy on the eyes, not too beautiful.

But her bizarre dressup made her different.

It hit him again, the jasminum sambac scent was stronger now!

The soulmate phenomenon is misleading. You think it’s one you’ll fall in love with and spend the rest of your life with.

Before being sent to earth, souls accompanied eachother elsewhere. Those familiar faces of strangers are your soul mates, dear one!

Stop finding them in one person.

There are too many!!!

“I miss you”, three words out of his mouth hurt as much as any other three words could.

She took in a deep breath and sighed.

“I do too”

Three word combination is powerfull, it can turn your heart, mind, life around!

I love you,

I am leaving,

You aren’t mine,

You can go!

Powerful, too damn powerful!!!!

It was euphoric, he had kept staring at the motiye k gajray in her arms. She has sat down on side place of hall wall. And looked directly at him. Her calmness was making him nervous. At the same time, he wanted to run away as fast as ge could or sit down at her feet and keep gazing at her as she looked towards the sky.

He was a talker but the silence was more comfortable.

Maybe it was a minute or maybe it was an eternity, he didn’t know but she stood up to leave. He nodded his head. He turned walked away with aame grace. He stared at the pallu she held tightly by her side and smiled.

Facade, ger calmness was a facade too!

His gaze fell upon gajray where she sat, Jasminum sambac!


Boot for the lost warrior!


The white carriage

Birds stopped chirping, it was odd, but they did. The air had gone still as if afraid to move. The rustling leaves gone silent. Clouds had emerged from somewhere. It was dark all over. The golden daylight from moments ago had disappeared. 

The carriage stood in front of her, unmoving, the centre of all her focus in that moment. Just as her eyes fell upon it, the carriage sprang to life. She saw the coachman, he laughed, at her? She wondered.

 Her heart was as quiet as the wind. Blood rushed to her face, she stared, unblinking, at the ruthlessness of fate. Time stopped or it was just her pulse?  The carriage moved away from her. She stood, rooted on the spot. The coachman drove it away, not sparing her a glance. The unknowing inflictor of her wounds, the merciless denier of her existence. A cloud of dust rose as the carriage rushed away fast and disappeared around the corner. It had taken moments to leave but those few seconds etched across her mind with  blunt dagger. 

The birds were singing again, the wind swaying with leaves, dancing on the sweet melodies they created together. The gold rays  fell and made the stream sparkle like stars in a maiden’s eyes. It was all magical as if a spell broken, as if the reign of an evil warlock ended, as if pain was an illusion.  

She was hurriedly gobbling down her breakfast under her mother’s stern eye. Her mother had found out she was hiding her breakfast under the table instead of eating it, now she was under strict gaze untill she finished last bite. The morning was frosty. Winters were on full swing. She had never hated winters. She loved donning sweaters, she would stand with her face towards the sun and let the sun rays kiss her closed eye lids. It warmed her to the core. 

Her mother handed her the coat as she was heading out and blowed several prayers at her. Young blooming flowers are always more attractive, their fragrance, fresher than anything else. They are more susceptible to being plucked away just because they catch the eye. She was the flower, fragile, colourful, fresh, eye catching and unknowing her charm. 

She crossed the door and embraced the cold, felt the warmth in the rays of sun peaking over her rooftop. She couldn’t stop, her school bus would be there any minute and the walk to bus stop was long. One foot outside the door and she grabbed the pane, her gaze wandered.

 Birds stopped chirping, it was odd, but they did. The air had gone still as if afraid to move. The rustling leaves gone silent. Clouds had emerged from somewhere. It was dark all over. The golden daylight from moments ago had disappeared. 

He was coming out of his house, the big mansion. His car a stood a little away in front of the house. He had put on a grey half sweater, his spectacles caught the sunlight and it blinded her. He carried his bag to his car, got in and drove away. What  an ordinary, casual event. But fragile flowers are plucked by softest of hands. She stared after his ride. She was unable to understand why her feet staggered all the way to her bus stop. 
The reign of the evil warlock, unknowing inflictor of wounds had ended. Pain was an illusion. But the flower was plucked and mangled and it lay there, frost shriveled it’s soft petals, ruthlessly.

They used to mock her at her coldness. She never cared about anyone, or missed anyone. She would get cold and not respond. She had no love interests. They would get annoyed, fight but she would not budge. They would gush over boys, she would laugh it off. They called her stone hearted, dead soul and what not. She would smile and look away, search for something in horizon for several long minutes and when she would look back, she would be talking normally about weather or their tests or anything as ordinary as that. 

She felt nothing, she was leaving her birthplace and she was as calm as a lake on a sunny day. She was the lake. Calm, deep. 

Humans are insane creatures. They get attached to something as temporary as other humans and they never care about places, that stay there forever. Humans leave, places stay. 

She was leaving and she had no affiliations with that place. She bid happy goodbyes to everyone and walked out into the yellow warm evening. She faced sun which suddenly went cold.

He drove by.  She felt an urge to look up and she did. A cloud of dust rose as the car moved away fast and disappeared around the corner. Gone! 

The lakes are calm, cold, almost dead. A stone thrown into it causes ripples which die down soon, engulfed by the lake, disturbance overcome in mere seconds but did anyone know, stones hit deep in the lake. They hit the cores and depths, undiscovered surfaces and places inside lakes. 

A tear formed in her left eye. She blinked and looked at the sun. Tear was gone. The stone had caused ripples, lake calmed soon, the stone hit something deep within.

She climbed down the steps and got out of the building. Dark clouds invaded the sky. Rain frightened her. She wanted to reach home before it hit. She flung her purse over her shoulder. Her mother was very always wanted her to be home early from work. With the thoughts of her mother in mind, she quickened her steps. She looked up at the sky, a storm on it’s verge. She looked forward and the storm blew hard at her. Birds were taking low flights. People laughing, enjoying the weather after long hot day.

What people don’t understand is that the storm after long hot days is never a blessing. Storms always bring massacre of leaves, twigs, flowers,branches, bird nests, tears, emotions, memories!

She stopped dead, rooted on spot. Eyes wide, hand on her purse strap. The storm, birds, people, the world disappeared. He got into his car and reversed it. Never sparing her a glance as always. The worshipped human was back again. Years disappeared. The school girl was back again. He drove away fast. She stared after him. His car slowed but it had to disappear around the corner. It did!

Birds stopped chirping, it was odd, but they did. The air had gone still as if afraid to move. The rustling leaves gone silent. Clouds had emerged from somewhere. It was dark all over. The golden daylight from moments ago had disappeared. 

We all are bound, shackled by the fate. The carriage has to move away. The young flower has to be plucked. The lake has to swallow ripples. The stone has to hit the depths. The history has to repeat itself. The pain exists to be felt. Destiny has to be fulfilled. 

The form of things unknown

Some moments cannot be explained in words yet here we are trying to give words to something that has taken place, something that has no material value but it exists. It surrounds us like the warm breeze from the sea! Like the blue in the ocean, like the rays from a rising sun, like the smell of a blooming flower.
Beyond this world of matter, another place exists. I believe, this body is not the only form we have. Human body is the only material form of the soul. Just as the leaves, the fruit, the branches even the fallen leaves and twigs are all different forms of a tree, synonymously, the body is the form of a soul. Imagination is another part of it. It exists, not in the material form but in the form of ideas.
Lancelot Whyte in his essay, “Where do bright ideas come from?” discussed that the ideas and imagination is divine, they are a gift of God. No science has yet been able to identify and track the reactions taking place in the central nervous system that lead to the formation of imagination. Imaginative world is diverse and dynamic in its own way. It is a complete life bottled up inside an instant. You can turn it on and off but sometimes it takes a lot of effort to stay quiet.
However, I believe differently! As I already discussed that imagination is a form of our soul, it must exist somewhere. The things that we imagine are already taking place. We often hear a retort that it’s “only in the head. If that’s so then brain is a place too and much intelligent entity. Everything happening in the brain carries out our activities. If imagination is only in the head then it is happening in reality. “Only in the head” is a feeble excuse of those who aren’t brave enough to acknowledge imagination. Not everyone can handle the irrevocable events of it. They have got to have a heart for it.
Imagination is strong like the force of gravity. It has complete ability to pull you inside. It sometimes blesses a human with such moments of shear emotions that we forget how to resurface.
Richard Wagner, the famous music composer writes about his experience. Falling into a trance like state, he suddenly felt as though he were sinking in a mighty flood of water.
“Trance like state” is the highest form of imagination. One stops existing in this world but he does not know where he is for our knowledge about other worlds is limited yet he travels there and feels, if not completely then at least tastes it.
“…..as imagination bodies forth, the form of things unknown….” -Shakespeare.
God has blessed each one of us with the power of imagination. We are too busy running our material world that we ignore the when our subconscious calls us. Body might not need it, but soul needs to visit its world from time to time. Be brave to acknowledge its presence. Immerse yourself in it, let it drown you. But know when to resurface!

“The night was silent and eerie, only the sound of breaths echoed. My beats were synchronized with another and I was aware of the fact. The satisfaction was unmentionable. If in that moment, I had died, I wouldn’t have felt the pain of it. I wasn’t in the material world at that time. It was sublime”

The world of betrayal


Thousands of words within,
Neither of them spoke,
Silence hung around,
Thousand dreams awoke!

Neither him, nor her,
Knew what it was,
They loved untill apart,
Understood their loss!

He wished he saw before,
The fire in her eyes,
Though she often denied,
Through a stream of lies!

They stared at the moon,
Daily, through the night,
Neither even aware that,
They prayed same light!

But something always happens,
That none ever expects,
Fate mingles with prayers,
And love always accepts!

They lost what they had,
An unconditional love,
Were strewn far away,
In a moment’s bluff!

The unsaid promises,
The hearty vows,
Nothing saves those,
Who relent with bows!

Their laughter still rings,
In the empty corridoors,
Their story still heard,
By strangers accross shores,

They exist far apart,
In newest of worlds,
Their hearts still beating,
With echoes of words!

The bitter most truth,
The blood drenching desire,
They never belonged together,
In the world of betrayal!

30, July 2016

The silence prevailed!

Thousands of words were uttered,
Millions of tears shed,
Not a single soul stirred,
Only the silence prevailed!

Her words had lost meaning,
The laughter completely hollow,
When her heart held still,
Only the silence prevailed!

He wanted to say much more,
And struggled every time,
Fate was , Alas! , nor fortunate,
And the silence prevailed!

It might have been better,
It could have been worse,
But it was for the best,
Whenever the silence prevailed!

As wonderful as it can be,
As harsh as a bitter truth,
It echoed all the secrets,
When the silence prevailed!

Many came and went,
Bodies died each minute,
Literal perished were souls,
In whom the silence prevailed!

Sensless speeches blabbered,
Worthless moments spent,
Neither were able to heal,
And the silence prevailed!
                                        24,March 2016.

There are no coincidences

  “Well, look who I ran into,” crowed coincidence!
“Please,” flirted Fate, “this was meant to be”.


I wholeheartedly agree to Fate. Fate laterally means, what’s written and has to happen , no matter what the situation.
Destination is reached, path is followed, hurdles oblige, tears and laughters follow. Only because they were meant to be that way.
No matter how much we try, we an never alter what is meant to be.  No amount of hurry, anxiety, worry or fear can change a person’s fate.
Although it is a bold statement to make but yes…. There are no coincidences.!!!
“Coincidence is a God scheduled opportunity” says Scott Hamilton.
That coincidence was carved accross the stretches of our life long before we set ypon our journey.
We grieve upon loss, people,money and various most temporary animates in our life. Remorse makes us believe that we could’ve done something to save pr stop someone. We could’ve done much better. And while blaming others in often situations, we believe that it was their fault. They caused hurt, betrayed or left.
Blatently speaking, it is nobody’s mistake. The only being responsible for our happiness, misery, opportunity and destiny is fate. People were meant to give us a lesson, message. When their purpose is fulfilled, they ease to exist.
People never come and go as they please. Fate controls them as well. Our Fate!!! Our possessions are never oura. They belong to our fate.
As James Redfeild writes
“I don’t think tgat anything happens by coincidence… No one is here by accident. Everyone who crosses our path has a message for us or they would’ve taken another path or left earlier or later. The fact that these people are here means that they are here for a reason”

” i had an accident, i ran into her accidentally, i accidentally dropped…” All these phrases means nothing. Anything that happened, even most minute things such as rolling of stone has its reasons in the long run.
Understanding reasons and extracting logic is not priority. Believing is the only solution.
As Nancy Thayer writes
“The universe ia always speaking to us, sending us little messages, causing coincidences and serenpiditis. Reminding us to stop ,to look around, to believe in something else, something more”
Whatever happens was meant to be, even our victories and mistakes. There were never any accidents. Coincidences were planned.
The only ingredient to success and serenity is belief.
Angela Gwinner was right in saying
“There are no coincidences. The soul seeks its own path”

Overlapping worlds

              The World, expresses the place we live in, a place representing all beings living in it. Most divrse in its forms and various other aspects, the world is magnanimous. If we drive ourselves out of our minds and think about “the world”, we come to imagine people around, in contact with us somehow.
In other words, even if we keep self centrism aside, we can only wonder about what we have seen, met or felt and nothing beyond it. Again relating only to ourselves. It will not be peculier if we call the world as our world ,or more legitimately, my world !
       Everything we see, everybody we meet, everything we sense around us, is present there only and only because of us. All the things lying in front of us, came into being for us. Even the very minute objects like the weather, people, scenery, situations exist because we exist. They were created to be part of our life.
       We are the centres of our universes !!
    Let us imagine that you are sitting in your college ground amongst your friends, laughing at some, sipping a strawberry shake, enjoying the breeze on your face and watching the people come and go. If tjis theory is correct, then your friends, all passers by and every other being in that vicinty came there just to be seen by you, to become a minute part of your life. The breeze ia for your sake. The fruit in your shake for grown for you! It is as simple as that. This is your world. And everything in it is for you.
     Now that we have the concept of my world , it imployes that there are billions of worlds within this big world. Every person we meet, its a whole complete world within them. As we meet up, we come accross new stories, new experiences, new choices and a very new perspective. Our worlds overlap. And it was very rightfully said by Anais Nin that
Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born untill they arrive and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born. !!
      Another quote which we have read often,
People cross our path for a reason !!
Yes, this is also correct. People cross our path to be part of our life. Our worlds overlap. They give us their perspective. They come and go for reasons which we may not understand at that time but  eventually realise. That’s what overlapping worlds is about.
So, to be straight forward and optimistic, we live in our own worlds. We are centre of our own universe. Everything in it is ours. Don’t be afraid to live the way your want. But don’t forget to overlap these worlds 😉


Somewhere deep inside !

         I find it very hard to express myself. Not because I am short of word, but because of two reasons.
For one, I, like many of you don’t believe that my listener will understand. They have not walked in my shoes, they know nothing of my sleepless nights or the reasons behind my crazy smiling. My reasons might seem stupid to them. Or even fairly small for such strong reactions. But that’s how it is. Not everyone understands.
              And those who do understand me, and they care enough to ask. In those very scarce cases, I happen to be in chaos of mind. I barely understand what is happening else where. The random thoughts and no apparent reasons of stress drove me to write. A very refined and organized way of expression. And not only writing, i call this writing for myself.
               Despite a very large social circle and numerous ways of expressing ,we often find refuge in pages. Our notebooks, the best listner in the world who listen untill we retire from speaking, never fail to reflect back our thoughts. Showing exactly where we  were pondering more. Helping us to think and streamline our train of thoughts.
                 The best expression, our pen, speaks our language, copy our emotions and never ceases to  do so until and unless we want it to.
              Freedom of expression might be the motto of many and yet we are afraid to speak. We are afraid of not being understood. But my dear fellows, nobody understood Newton.
Express what you think. Write it down. A secret biting your insides?  Here is what to do, scribble it down. Cork it in a bottle, carry it to sea (that will be last of its burden), fling it over and share it with the sea. Speak with your pen. Talk freely with whom you want to. Be free to feel.
Carry your own listener and spokesman with you.

To motivate, here i have a writing of mine.
In my most jumbled up moments, this poem got out. One line different from another. But thats how mind works. Wonder of nature.
Now that, i read it after a year, l understand they were memories. Some lessons learned,  some losses and gains. As i understand it now!

Thrashing wild waves,
                    Captured in a jar.
Swift wind whirling,
                    Singing very far.
Silent words whispered,
                    Hanging in the air.
Hopeless strings of love,
                    Retreating in the lair.
Starring at his face,
                    Wondering what it is.
Emotions in his eyes,
                    In a moment’s bliss!
Soft touch of breeze,
                    Kissing her hair.
Drying tears that dropped,
                    Beckoning her to dare!
All those happy seconds,
                    All that didn’t last,
Is worth all i have,
                    A ship of broken mast!!
       (Written on  2 april,2014)

Damons reside within

          It was in late greek era that pain and suffering was related to reward and pleasure. That our sacrifices bring us happiness and good fortune. The same idea continued down to many centries and various examples were witnessed through the time. Keeping oneself in pain in order to gain is the most common commotion still among those with low beliefs and scarce faith.
        As i studied and observed these various methods of self sacrifice in the name of happiness, i found that we humans want to be in control of their fate. They want to improve their luck, the only thing which is reason of hapenings in their minute lives.
But what they do not understand , or as more intellectual people do not want to believe is that fate is as much out of their hands as the rising sun. And God do not put burden of its control upon us.
          What lies ahead demands our faith not pain. Revolution of mind is required instead of suffering. God does not inflict pain to humiliate but to teach and bring hearts closer. That is the way i understood fate.
          But then the question arises, from where did the absurd idea of inflicting pain upon onself came from.
In my curiosity, i somehow developed a theory, in its very crude form though but i would like to discuss it here.
Damon tried to astray the clean soul of human being, directly attacked its faith. Unable to putrify,it took revenge by giving them pain. Our souls, ready for the first attack, endured it well but were not prepared for the pain. They suffered a long time untill finally the damon released souls. But then in this long time, souls , so much familier with the pain, missed it. They assumed thatvtgey felt happy after so much pain as a reward. Although the happiness was of soul’s joy of getting released. They related their pleasure and joy with long period of misery tgey felt. Thus, the ones with less intellect, brought back the damon themselves. Allowed him to reside within. This worked out better for him. He instead of bothering with their faith in God, changed their conditions. That they will recieve happiness from God by suffering. Their faith in God did not change but their faith in fate got doped, which was equally fatal.
          Thousands of years passed since this unfortunate event for the mankind. We have been inviting damons ever since. They have been gaining strength while we relent in on them. Abiding by their treacherous rules.
How unrealistic it all sounds. And to some, its sounds far fetched. But believe me when i say that we all, you, me , our family members, friends, neibours, most of us are following this path, a misconception mainly. We are blindly listening to the damons and their demands.
             We suffer the misery, endure pain, sacrifice our hearts , invite the damons and expect pleasure. The worst revenge a man can take from himself is doping his faith.
             Stress, depression and anxiety are various forms of this revenge. Our worst enemy, the damons within, are the root cause.
             The treatment of it is as simple as that of a weed in in our garden. Root it out throw it away, spray herbicide. Similarly, if I breif it in a Gardner’s language (which many of us might be or become)
Root out the pain. Root out the Damon, throw doubts and conditions away, spary with strong faith. If you want to be happy, nobody can stop you from doing so. As happiness comes from within. Its cords are in your hands. Strenghten your faith.God does not want you in pain. He want you to have faith and believe in him.
              If a path seems painful, change your ways. It anything presses stress, then leave it well behind you. If anyone makes you miserable. Just throw them out. Throw out your

Buyers meet sellers

        Various sites apps have been launched with the puch line saying Buyers meet sellers! They sell all kinds of stuff. From techo objects to almost useless things. From ceiling fans to shoes of brand. Fom house furniture to houses and cars. People from every aspect of life visit these sites and make use of these apps. 
     Please do not assume that i am about to discuss advantages or disadvantages of them. I merely want to draw your attention towards the line Buyers meet sellers.
     I do not have a much wide horizon of life, i haven’t been to many places. But where i live, there is place which should also given the same name Buyers meet sellers, that place ia commonly known as Educational institution. But what they sell is , as the other name indicates, education!
      It is a cold and bitter truth and i have tasted it. We have numerous universities and educational instituitions around a small city but neither actually educates impartially. They sell education to those with brilliant minds or brilliant pockets, the rest, can rot , thats all they care. They only let in those, who pay them the hight amount of money.
      While we shop at a jewelry store, what we see before us are perfectly designed objects. Certainly we do not pay attention to what they were before. Someone must have made an effort to seek the beautiful stones, to buy the raw form of gold and silver, to beautifully shape and cut the precious diamonds. Which is why the jewelry shop attracts us so much, because a big amount of effort was given to each and every  object in that one place.
          Hypotheticaly speaking, an educational intituition should be like the jewelry store. Where education and educationists shape the future of country. Where effort is put to bring forth the worthy people. Where they seek not only those with brilliant minds but also those with the possibility of becoming brilliant minds. Unfortunately that does not happen. As a consequence of which, the country lies at the bottom line, development declining with passing time, brain drain rate increases day by day, poverty becoming worse and all street crimes increased to an exponential height.! Suicide becoming the most easiest way to even out the stress!
          That folks, is just because our future , is being sold to unworthy. A dilemma worse than our darknest nightmares. Which we might not realize untill it seeps in our roots and infect our morals. Which it has to some extend already. Our society is deprived of  honesty, affection and satisfaction ! I make a plea to all humanists out there, please do not make education a buisness, please do not sell the future, do not let the useful  minds rot ! Do not let the world get deprived of morals.
         Buyers meet sellers, an incompressible, most malicious truth!
Raise your voice, use your pen!