The Brightest Star

Once the teacher asked kids,
To write their favorite wish on paper
One little girl wanted a room full of chocolates
Where she could live and eat all day all night
And a fasto desired if he could bring
Two lunch boxes instead of one
Another girl wrote for long blonde hair
Which would shine golden like sun
A shy cute tot wished he could
Sit everyday with the girl next row
One kid with thick lenses on eyes
Wanted his fighting parents to be silent
So that he could study the entire day.

At last submitted the calm back seater child
His white sheet with his most wanted wish.
And when the teacher asked why you want
Wings like angel on you, afraid he said
“I am sorry Ma’am, but do you see
At night the brightest star in the sky?
I will put my wings on and fly
In the sky to it because daddy says
Son, that shining star is your mother.”

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Man, Machine, Emotions

“There is no fate but what we make for ourselves.”

So true. The last line from the movie Terminator Salvation. The best movie ever exposed differences between humans and machines. I completely agree the fate is what we make. But the fate what we are making, the trail we are leading to, the story we are writing has a horrible tomorrow. A world where will be no place for emotion, where is no place for love, where everything is mere a commodity, where exchange will the only rule. Is this the tomorrow we have dreamt of?

Have you ever thought of the difference between a machine and a human? Machine can work hundreds times faster than a human can, they can perform tasks which are beyond capabilities of humans, machines are much stronger and have a much higher caliber than a human can hold. Then what is that makes humans conquering over machines? Why machines are still slaves of humans? Why they work according to human instructions and not rule over us?

There is one principal difference between humans and machines. We humans have feelings. We are made of emotions. We cry when we are happy and we cry when we sad. But now-a-days the way human emotions work, sometimes it feels machines are par times better than us. At least they are not selfish like us. They do not hurt others’ sentiments. It is miserable when we people go ruthless more than machines. You know even a gun kills only when its trigger is pressed.

Look at ourselves friends, where we all are leading to! Our whole lives we keep committing sins, doing wrong things, hurting other peoples for our own happiness and what we get at the end? a heart full of regret, a heart seeking for just one sentence of forgiveness, a heart yearning for one drop of love. We hate a poor man lying on the street because he is wrapped in rags. We are too afraid to hug a man because he is HIV Positive? We slap a little child serving on shop because he has spilled tea on expensive suit? We leave our parents alone to die because they are too old and a burden upon you? You break up with the girl who loves you more than herself because things are not working between both you? What is this? Why is this? Are we that much self obsessed? Do we think only about ourselves? Have we gone too much blind for for the sake of our own smile that we cannot see tears of others?

Hundred questions, not a single answer. Don’t you think people, those emotionless machines are far better than us? I would wish to born as piece of some steel rather than being an emotionful but emotionless so called best creature of the universe ‘The Human’.

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The Piano Girl

She was alone and she was gifted. She could stop the world from her music. She lonely used to play her piano in her little shelter by side of river. I, every day listened her music and every time I heard, I was lost.
I am once again lost when she does not play anymore. God knows where she has gone. But wherever she is, her music always echoes in my ears and steps down into my soul. I miss the girl with the piano.

I knew a damsel, in my neighborhood,
Her hut was across; in meadows, past wood
Magic in pinkish fingers, pre-blessed by God
Which became preternatural, by nature’s applaud.

Her fingers flew, on keys like breeze
Birds stopped chirping, rivers did freeze
She had no companion, to listen to her song
Lonely played harmony, and sobbed along.

One day I by chance, happened to listen her tune
“Collect firewood,” when mother ordered; my fortune!
Arpeggios; born in piano, sailed through on air,
Melodious than an ode, delicious than éclair.
Stood I un-blinked, forgot heart to pound,
Earth impeded to gyrate, heavenly soothing sound.

That was the day, and the day is this
I went every day, none chance did I miss
Indulged in her music, lost in compositions
Between me and her, piano became preposition
That was a day, and a day is this
Where is she gone? Crave! How much I miss.
Some say she sings in the court of heaven
Some said her songs were the holy daven.

Wherever ye hath gone, I feel thy harmony
Aft never heard, that marvelous symphony.

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