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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Familiar Strangers

A stranger, I saw in boulevard,
Drizzling down, blurred sight
Standing soaking, off wool lard
Appeared she known; her face white.

Face upwards, straight to sky
Obtaining into her, the divine bliss,
“She is my own,” assumed I why
“Who is she, is something I miss?”

Under umbrella, evading heaven-shower,
Hiding my identity, behind high collar
With paced feet, passed through street,
To recognize the face, in haste to meet.
As visions exchanged, recollection sent messengers,
Passed by across, two familiar strangers.

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Thank You, Chetan : Revolution 2020

“Dear Chetan Sir, I am gratified to you for writing such a miraculous novel like Revolution 2020. I grown up reading your earlier novels and found all of them appreciating but this one has spark. A spark to raise issues on which our community prefers to remain silent, a spark to bring revolutionary changes in India. And the way you unmasked reality the behind educational system in our country will surely make a big share of our population thinking. Apart from national issues the love story in the book touches the nerve and conveys the message that receiving is not everything in the love. It is the best threesome I ever came across to. Meaning of the love is to scarify, to give and to be happy in the happiness of others.
In cell I would like to say you thank you. Such a great volume. May lord inspire you writing more and more. Bless him almighty!”

The book impressed it before even I could open it. Title of the novel was indicating but book-cover immediately grabbed my attention. On the top Dashashwamedh Ghat in Varanasi and below a flow of emotions. Varanasi, one of the most rich cultured, ancient and hub of education system in the world since many thousands years; I could not take my eyes off for a while. I find Varanasi the second most amazing city in the world. There is something about this city. So I could better connect myself with the story. The ghats, broad Ganga in the Varanasi, temples, BHU, all the places and specially the other bank of the river took me back to my journeys to the city in past years. And if we talk about characters, be it Raghav, Aarti or Gopal; all Characters are strongly portrayed. I wonder how deeply Chetan understands things from the view of a girl. For a moment I did not feel that book is written by a man when I gone through Aarti. Friendship, love, possession, sacrifices all built very well together in one story. Somehow I could relate with the story. There are many points I became emotional. From very first to last chapter and epilogue the ride of sixteen years is earnest. It touches. Chetan knows nerve of Indian youth and he successfully hits this target. The books conveys us thoughtful messages toward our contribution to our needy society, our sick educational system and at the same time it teaches us real meaning of love. Scarifying for our love is aching sometimes but it takes love to the place out of this world. Anyone can happily spend life being with the love of life. Being happy in the happiness of love is love. And this is why I consider Gopal as the best character in the novel.
For own sake everyone would do anything, Test of the love is when you cry for the smile of someone else. And the fact is that everyone cannot pass this test. It never was easy to see the one whom you love in the arms of someone else and still smile. But who do, they reach to heights of pure love. There is a lot to talk about the book but everyone has their own outlook and I hope they will be happy to share.
Good enough for a rating of ★★★★.

Thanks, Ashish

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Diary of a Soldier's Wife

FRIDAY FEBRUARY 26TH, 2010 06:14 PM EST


Dear husband John,
Honey I am very happy. Very soon our angel is about to come among us to spread lots of bliss in our world. I am sorry I haven’t told you yet but I wanted to keep it as surprise for you but now I cannot keep any longer this secret inside me. Yes Johnny my love, I am pregnant. Seeds of your love are developing in my womb. I know you will go mad with cheer with this news and will first smile then scream and then run here and there everywhere in the cantonment to tell everyone about this. Wow! This feeling overfills me with ecstasy John I cannot tell you. I am heartily thankful to you for blessing us with this precious flower of love.
But you know John I wanted to see how you will smile when you hear this news, I wanted to feel your touch, I, John; I wanted to be in your arms when I tell you about my pregnancy. I really really miss you baby. I wish my strong man comes back soon. Please do come back soon. Is not it possible to apply for a few days leave? I want to live these moments with you. Our child is waiting for daddy.
There are thousands of things I want to tell you. I wish you take me into your muscular arms and we talk for the whooole night. And I tell you everything I have in my heart and you tell how bravely you fight with enemies. Oh! John… mom is calling, I will write you later… Bye bye bye bye bye. Mmuahh!!


I love you.
Your wife, Jane
...........................................................................................................................................................
MONDAY MARCH 01ST, 2010 11:25 AM EST


Good morning Daddy John,
John you know last entire night I could not sleep. I have been thinking about you and our child. It will be a baby boy :) And I will name him… OK this responsibility if leave on you. But used to say you want a baby girl. What if this is a girl? Then what name we will give her? No, boy and only boy and his name will be… ufff I forgot again, naming the kid is your job.
I know John it does not matter whether it is a boy or girl. All I know is it is our child. And I am very happy and excited. Again there is a problem. If we do not know it is a boy or girl then how we are going to do a lot of shopping? We will buy little prince cloths or little princess cloths? We will get dolls or cars? Will he be a soldier like you or will she be a writer like me? Oh John, I am completely mystified. I am aware when you will come; you will come with all solutions of my problems.
Only the thought of being with you thrills me from head to toe. When you will gently wrap your arms around me and put your ear on my stomach to hear beats of the second heart beating inside me, Oh Jesus how I will stop myself from dying of delight! I think I should stop writing before I die :)


Bye Papa John, Love you Honn,
Your Jenny
...........................................................................................................................................................
WEDNESDAY MARCH 03RD, 2010 01:48 AM EST


Western Pacific winds
Tenderly touch my face,
It feels you came and kissed.
You are nearby; even when not
With thy love, I am bliss-ed.
O my sailor! Sail to home,
You are awaited, you are missed.


God, how frequently I use the word happy now. Look, how happy I am! Celebrations are all around. I feel to be from out of this world. I heard voice of John today after… ummm let me count… after 36 days. My heart skips a beat when you say,”I love you.” John your voice comes through from earpiece and goes through my soul and each word you say echoes loudly throughout the day and night. Our kid heard you today when you were talking to me. I exactly remember every sentence you say and murmur it to me later. I cannot hide a glitter of exhilaration in my eyes. They are shining like star. My two eyes are gazing at the path that comes to home, John, they are anticipating you, honn they are eagerly waiting for you. Eyes are thirsty sweetheart it’s been seven long months they have not catch a sight of you. I am starving without you. This heart is yearning.




But I am happy beyond explanation because you are coming home :)
...........................................................................................................................................................

1 Year Later

MONDAY JULY 18TH, 2011 05:10 PM EST


Don’t know why John today you are coming a lot to my memories. I still remember the last time you said me that you love me. How can I forget the day of 03rd March. Our little John, yes I have named him John, has learnt to crawl on his little knees now and all the day he keeps me busy in taking care of him. Mom says you were also very naughty when you were of his age. His eyes exactly resemble to yours. Deep and blue like Pacific Ocean. Pacific Ocean! How can I forget cruel Pacific? I will never forgive Pacific in my life. Yes, I saw those giant waves on T.V. in news. Sea, you swallowed up my John… you swa….ll..ll..ooeed… up….. Jo..oo…h..n.. where have you gone?


Home was waiting for you to come and came your dead body wrapped in the flag. I wished you will cover my body with yours and they covered your body with soil. It kills me John. Every memory kills me. I cannot live because you are not here and our child does not let me die. Everyday I have to live without you but living without you more than dying. I will never again hear your voice. I will never again be in your arms. Our child will never see his father's face.


Harsh Pacific winds,
Bring memories of you
And with memories they bring,
They bring a touch of you,
I still feel
You came, touched and kissed,
O my sailor! Sail to home,
You are awaited, you are missed.

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A Cup of Coffee

AN EVENING, FRIDAY AUGUST 19TH, 2011
Yesterday... while moving to home, I was passing by Rajouri Garden, a voice announced,“The next station is Rajouri garden. Doors will open on left. Please stand clear off the doors." West Gate Mall was right in front of my eyes, crowded with student, shoppers and love-couples like always and there inside the mall is a coffee shop. A coffee shop, which has always been my favorite place to recharge myself with my most favorite drink 'Coffee Café Day Cappuccino'. But I have not taken a coffee there once in last six months.. in fact its been a little long than six months.

Because there was a promise; Oh! Let me correct myself. Because there is a promise. Promises never die so there was a promise, there is a promise and there always will be a promise. So I was saying I was passing by Rajouri Garden and a coffee shop, a promise, a face, a cup of coffee to be shared.. all flashed in front of my eyes. A blended feeling of anger, anxiety, grief charged with negative ions and this negative energy made me thinking of breaking the promise. I intended to go and have a cup of coffee... alone. "Will I have to have the coffee alone?", I asked. Was I asking to myself or I was asking to the one who made the promise? I got up. Immediately the girl standing next to me, who perhaps was much eagerly waiting for me to get up so that she can take my place, occupied my seat. There was a very strange feeling I was sensing while making my way to Metro door. I was forcing my feet towards Metro door and some mighty resistance inside me was pulling my legs back. I wanted to have the cup of coffee and at the same time I wanted not to.

A battle of thoughts was going on inside me. Should I? Should I not? Should I? should I not? Fighting with my own thoughts, so unconsciously I eventually deboarded the train. The thought-war was still on. “Should I?”, I asked. “Why should not?”, my brain replied. "Promise? Of what promise you are talking about, Ashish? The promise which will never be kept, which does even not matter to the person you are thinking of. Stop being such a mad man for someone who does even not care your feelings. She does not even remember that there was a promise”, my mind kept on giving me logic forcing to descend myself downstairs and pouring that warm cup inside my throat as soon as I could. But then heart spoke, “It was not a deal Ashish when it was made; it is a promise and promises are to be kept. Keep it. For a lifelong time.” And the heart said further,”I so much strongly believe, she also will keep the promise. You both will have that cup of coffee together someday” I sadly smiled. The next Metro was standing on the platform. I joined the crowd stuffed in the train, wishing to reach home and throwing my tired body on bed. My heart had won; the promise had been kept. Forever.

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Loneliness : A Choice

When clock ticks three in the morning and a person lying in the bed widely awake with nothing on mind feels of a dark emptiness around then how lonely this heart feels is very hard to put here in words. It feels like something is missing somewhere and we try to find this missing thing within ourselves and when we fail to find source of this hollowness, a cloud of hopelessness, uncertainty and loneliness takes the place of these strange mixed feelings. In fact most of the times this loneliness is somehow outcome of our own deeds. Today I know I am feeling lonely but one barely considers what we did yesterday because of that we are so much alone. We keep think this isolation is gift that is gifted to us by others and whole life we keep blaming others; and sometimes cursing and hating too. If you feel lonely and think it is not you but someone else responsible for your situation then once ask yourself are we not equally involved in those happenings occurred? May be you are able to see or might be you are not but if you can see your contribution towards it, why not to start blaming yourself instead of putting weight of allegations on the head of someone else? I guess that is a better idea.

Now the question rises how we are the only answerable person then my friend a clap makes no sound until two palms are not hit together. Sometimes straightforwardly and sometimes indirectly; but we are always involved in behaviors which cause our fate. If still you could not understand what we are talking about exactly then here I am talking about loneliness that people most often say is because someone else has cause then most probably that person left them, things did not work between them or say there were gaps and so on; lots of things to say and problems to count. Let us come back to the topic where we were. Well, I was saying how we are included. There is a word, ‘expectations’; as long is the word itself, much more heavier is it’s meaning. We kill others under weight of this word and weight of this word kills most of the times a relation. This is exactly from where it all starts that makes a feel person abandoned. This is the basic instinct of us human we never feel satisfied. We want more then we want some more.

You keep thinking what you were demanding was allowable and the another person keeps fulfilling your wanting as long as that person thinks are allowable and then all it takes a moment to crash a world made of playing cards.

There are lots of questions which may rise and there are lots of situations when you are innocent but sometimes it is better to let it go. These are matters of sensitive and soft heart not of some analyzing egocentric brain and in the matters of heart it all becomes perfect with the divine act of forgiveness. Forgive yourself for everything you did wrong and forgive others for what they could not do appropriately. Don’t run away from things, don’t hide from loneliness. Make your isolation your strength. Give time to yourself, know yourself better. Loneliness is a choice either you live with it blaming yourself and others or conquer the darkness with luminosity of forgiveness and step into a world of illumination where you can smile from your heart without any weight of regrets on you. Loneliness or smile; choice is yours, make it.

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Birds : A Feel of Freedom

When I was small I loved watching birds. This was one of my most favorite activities. This bird watching would start at six in the morning when many dozens of grey colored wild pigeons would gather their morning meeting at my rooftop. Colored around the roof railing would turn into grey. This early morning chirp always sounded me like some musical notes. Few pigeons, I guess male ones, would turn round and round as if some singing-dancing competition was going on and winner was supposed the get the most gorgeous of the lot. Slowly… slowly… one by one all of them would open their wings and fly far away iin the sky in the hunt of grain seeds.

As sun went up higher in the sky and some heat would bring drops of sweat on foreheads, I very well remember, little sparrows would attack in our red court yard to eat grains of wheat which my mother had kept to dry in the sunlight. My teacher always told me to love animal, birds, humans and being an obedient student I never interrupted those little creatures from eating their favorite food. I would hide somewhere behind any door and watch them how neatly these birds take each seed in the beak and then swallow. Minutes and sometimes hours would pass by while I was enjoying watching this attractive food party going on in my yard. An angry voice of my mom would disrupt this gathering and all of them would fly high together in the sky with a big noise making. Sometimes I have received a good scolding from my mom for enjoying this game instead of protecting wheat from, in my mother’s tongue rascal-all-time-hungry-birds.

We children, most of them of my age, were always great hunters of nests of birds. Some of us were excellently self-trend in climbing on tress and finding secretly built hidden shelters of birdies. Most of nests were found empty and sometimes with three or four eggs. None of the case was exciting for us. We were keen only for cute looking tiny chicks. Unlike their mothers these small chicks were not covered with feather. We would find them, look at them and would feel so much love for these small wonders as if they are our own children. We were prohibited from touching them. We were told that if we will touch chicks; they would die. Now whenever I think of my childhood, the nest hunting; a smile automatically spreads on my face. How naughty and stupid we all were.
Since I know, I exist, I have seen a parrot caged in house of my uncle. His family is very fond of pt birds. And sometimes even two parrots at the same time. Specialty of those parrots is that they speak in human voice. My aunt has worked very hard in teaching them how to speak few certain words. One more strange fact about those parrots is that all of the parrots they have (or had) all were addressed with the same noun, “Patte”. Sharp, clear and loud voice of Patte,”Patte bhukhe hain.” (Patte is hungry.) attracted attention of every person in the family. Among visitors in our family Patte was a center of attraction. But in my own thinking it is sin to cage a bird and keep them within boundary of few inches for their whole life. God gifted birds with wings so that they can fly high and can feel joy of freedom.

I don’t know why we human cage such pretty gifts of God. Perhaps because we ourselves are cages in our own boundaries and somewhere inside we derive pleasure by caging others or maybe we love these natural flying machines so much that we want to live around them or maybe they kill loneliness and frustration we have in our boring busy life. Whatever the reason is, what is not right is not right. Anyway, it is thinking of each individual and it better to leave on individuals to select their choices.
Years have passed and everything has changed with the time. But I notice there number of birds around us has tremendously decreased. God knows where all the birds disappeared but I really miss watching those birds in the sky until they disappear far somewhere in the sky. Where is that feel of liberty? Sometimes, I, jailed in my flat come out in my balcony in the time of evening in hope to listen chirping noise of those old mates and what I get to see is human made aluminum birds flying in the sky from IGI Airport to far somewhere to some destination and I satisfy a child inside me by gazing at painted, big and noisy birds till they do not vanish somewhere in the sky.

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A Rant to My Selfish Heart

Good e’en, my brutal lord, evil, sure you are,
For your happiness, I thrown mine far,
For your wellness, I have died,
I attempted once to fly; was chide,
As you wilt and ordered, I followed.
You rained of tears, I swallowed.

Lord of desires, donate back my living,
Unlock my freedom, pay me for giving,
Yearn I to wear, white wings and fly,
Generosity heartless Heart, else you shalt cry.
Why dost ye expect, aspirate then wait,
Why dost ye love, feel and then hate?

Thy selfish approach suppress my wish to delight,
My feelings expire, in your feeling-fight,
Ye cause me pain because you are unpleased?
You are king of dark ergo keep me ceased?
Learn to give and forgive, and learn to forget,
Spread joy and self glee, before my lord ye regret.

About the poem: Heart, source of all pains and bad thought that can hurt a person; this poem is addressed to the selfish heart which gives lots of pains to poet because the heart itself is not happy. Poet says to heart that he has gone through all the pains and has never smiled because his heart was not happy. He, whole life, has obeyed his heart, lived according to his heart. But now he wants to live his life in natural way and here says to his heart to stop feeling so that he can lead to a life which is actually lived by feelings of the poet himself and not by feelings of someone else i.e. his heart.

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Goodbye, Dear John

“Dear John, regretfully, telling you I am sorry
Fighting you there war, my feelings go awry.”
Slipped cold M1 Carbine off from hands of John,
Unbelievingly read it thrice, in pain he looked drawn.

“I set you free John, to fight for the nation
Aching from Separations, John, I need salvation.
No home in your wait, bye, sending you your coat.”
Only five lines, was the all she wrote.

After six war-years, in nineteen forty five,
The village of the Jane, seeks an arrive.
Brown coated, unshaved, A tired soldier,
Gun pointing down, from his brave shoulder.
Six years ago she passed, ”Love, John”, did she crave.
Told villagers the story, shot his head on her grave.

Theme of the Poem: John is a an American soldier who is fighting Second World War for his country. A day he receives a letter from his girlfriend Jane telling him that she cannot take pain of separation anymore therefore she wants to end her relation with John. The letter speaks only five lines. Jane even sends brown coat of John with the letter which is the only thing of John she had with her. This is an indication that now there is no any reason for John to come back to her.

But in 1945 when World War II ends, John comes to the village of Jane. End of the sonnet is tragic. John hears news of the death of Jane by villagers, when they narrate him that the letter to the John was the written by Jane on the bed of death and she died with the name of John on her lips. She did not want to bring into the knowledge of John about her death ergo she wrote a heart-braking letter to him so that he forget her. After knowing the painful death and reality behind the letter, John fills with grief and has no reason to live and kills himself with his gun on the grave of Jane.

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