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Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Mornings interrupts!

Many a times in the day, I wish to give myself fully to you. In the morning hours, I tend to walk with you the passages that lie in front of me. As you aren't around, I catch up with your thoughts and in this way, I let the time pass. Until, I get to see you. Over the past days, I never knew that I could be this closer to you. "For a moment, I had thought to let it be; I thought that I liked her as a person and we were friends, that it was alright. But no, the time didn't leave us alone. It walked with us. While walking with us, it brought us closer."

It is some blessing in this world, that two people feel equal and their values of love intertwine. That, living without one another is next to difficult, but we have to walk in this life. There are other needs of life, there's a career and a dream to fulfil. The dream that has brought us till here. We have met up in this place, while searching for our dreams to come alive. She wishes to pursue 'Mass communication' as a subject of her research or maybe, it's the calling of her life. Similarly, I am driven to reach my hub, my place, that belongs to me; I wish to become a writer and write professionally as well as being emotionally driven. I wish to connect to the audience, I need to place to them, all my understandings about the world. Thinking that somehow, I can be a droplet of love in the ocean of dreams. I can make my thoughts that important, for the goodness of my society and the wrong doings that I encounter alongside. At the same time, I don't look at them like problems. For, those are little misunderstandings in the mindsets of people. A little jealously and insecurity. Take for example, they can't stand in a queue and if someone does, then they tend to disregard that person's patience and the very capability to stand alone with that conviction to be himself/herself right. Maybe, that person thinks that he/she can bring a change this way, in others' outlook of life. Well, I wish to be like that single person who stands for what needs to be there fore placed.

At the same time, I wish to tell her; that I love her very much and shall always desire to be closer to her. Now, be it by either her thoughts, those feelings or simply with her in reality. The crossroads of life, are as beautiful as a newborn flower. The life that comes up, wakes up and moves ahead after knowing it's calling is the most significant theory that leads towards the growth of the world around us. Because, when these spirits of youth and adolescence grow up, when the adult individuals understand how important those childish dreams were; then only the road to glory can be cherished for the entire universe to see.

People often regard creativity and philosophy to be higher than the practicality or the right and wrongs that we debate in our lives. It's because, those people can really understand their values by heart and not the mind. Their mind isn't attuned to the cynism(selfishness) in this landscape of the palace we live in; The Earth. Few people tend to show their love for the loyalty of the life. They are no one's to say that this is truth or this is a lie. They simply mark their words, with the sword and spear of the Poet, that is the imaginative thoughts. Then, the Poet doesn't go for a race with anyone, for he/she's not applicable to be honoured enough for any such race.

Even the Science Principles say, that; by the 'Law of Relativity', given by Albert Einstein. That whatever we perceive is what we really tend to believe, or is it the make-belief accepted by everyone, with that adequacy and conviction that no one dares to question it's sustenance or happening. Well, it's easier this way, to let things be; so ya, it's alright to say someone is bad or good. I think, it's the terrorism of our minds, that makes this happen; the so called battles, the brutalities. When a person is Rich and a person is Poor; just because, God wanted it to be like that; but can't we question God? Can't we ourselves, dissuade those thoughts over which we die for? Don't we have our arms and ammunition's that can strengthen our mind's battles? That's why I regard the innocent people, the musicians, the poets, the dreamers as more capable than the law makers. The law makers, simply put the laws; they are different people, led by different minds. Here, I don't point at their capability or incapability just to make myself feel greater; being myself a poet or a writer. It's my way to perceive them. The way they are sold in public eyes. That an intelligent lawyer has to always fight the case, for the Well Known(Richer). A poet isn't such a person. He/She writes for anyone with as much love. Here again someone can say, that I am being led afront by the 'Theory of Relativity' myself. That I am pointing out the differences. Yes, I am also a part of this world. I have my own choice making and my own visuals of the world.

Through this essay, I would only want one message to go to my people, my friends. That, love exists in understanding the world. Where we are far ahead 'Human beings' before being either Poets or Lawyers. We get different callings in life. I don't say that a Poet can't be corrupt or a Lawyer is always a bad person. They are the same people with different tasks that they do, equal people. So, if they go the way towards selfishness then I say; the person who says I am a Lawyer isn't one actually if he divulges away from the Truth. A Poet is no poet, if he doesn't study the lifestyle, the world with open eyes and if he doesn't write his actual feelings. Both of them are accountable to the world, because they belong to it.

Sunday, 27 October 2013

Moving towards our land.

Whenever dreams become affluent,
We find this world from a different perspective,
We look for and towards the goals,
The paths that can outshine our little steps,
As we pave them towards our dream lands.

For what attaches to us,
Is a feeling with a rich embroidery of,
Artifacts, and we feel that;
It's significant enough, to follow;
What appeals us the most,
And where we can find, our life to grow,
Enhance it's picture and glow it's personages,
Like a reminiscence.

When the birds sing,
There is applaud in every other creatures' mind,
When the atmosphere of tranquility develops,
We form a silent sigh;
We can feel the rhythm of the sands,
We can feel, where our life is transcending to personify.

There's a picture, to which we spring; relate.
There's a fragrance to which we entertain,
Life is to follow the path and not abstain,
But level it to the common field of labour,
To toil and not dream devoid of it.

For nothing as meaningful in our lives,
Could happen, until we worked towards it,
And in the meanwhile fall in love,
Answering the depictions and to the shadows,
For what was visible and not dark,
But substantial enough for us,
To let the journey of peaceful living,
Certainly embark.
Let's walk with the shadows,
For who knows,
It could enchanter our world,
With the thoughts of significance,
And nothing apart.
Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Saturday, 26 October 2013


Face is like a downfall,
The breathe ceases to exist,
Hurt and pain are like an expression,
That translate,
Along the stream of life!

I say to thee,
The manner you look deep within me,
As if searching for your love,
That you feel belongs and attaches to me.
Those curious eyes,
That dream about me;
The love that occurs,
Is like a string, a wave; it's a sea.

Across an ocean,
We flow along,
Life-boats in our custody,
We prolong.

Into a land unknown,
We walkest,
There's what connects us strong.

I search for it,
In the streaming skies,
You watch alike,
The breeze the wind-shines,
The lightening surfacing the land,
Of our dreams.

I know,
This is a connection;
Let's give it a meaning,
Let's not divulge away,
We can be one,
A spirit of love,
An incarnation of glory,
Shall every little footstep of us,
Embark upon,
The fruit of love,
Dreams and imaginations,
That build the nestles on the trees,
That rub against our eyes,
Our dreams.

Our eyes, our smile reaps to us,
The strength,
The glory,
Let's be one,
I say to thee,
Let's accept this as the God wishes us to see;
Let's be together, let's be!

Wednesday, 23 October 2013

Culture and environment!

Long ago in dreams,
There imagined a girl;
Who thought of the trees.

That was presumably, thousands of years back,
That she lived;
I am glad, she isn't here,
To see what has happened of the streams.

The industries flourish,
People, in popular culture,
Dive with the sculptures,
Of God's and Goddesses,
Into the seas.

Eyes water,
As do the dreams,
With the tides that blow,
Destroying the surroundings.

They blame the same God's, whom they immersed,
Into the seas;
Then happens the blame-game;
I wonder,
Who talks of the trees?

Don't we now dare to dream,
Is that girl, hiding her face;
To save her eyes from the reality,
That she wishes to not see.

For she knows, the ethos prevailing,
In this modern world,
Led her no space of her own,
Or  to any other species.

The trees are near, the road to dampness;
No longer the seeds perpetuate, the growth does cease,
Whilst deluding into the sands,
And going about themselves, unseen.

World is no longer in the hands,
Of Humans, the so called Beings.
We have to learn from the animals,
Otherwise, we would also one day,
Get away into ashes, that shall be the anger of the seas,
Just because, we didn't let that girl's dream breeze;
But disappear into the tides of heavy blow.

We move towards our end,
When we see no dreams,
When tears drop only to become a waterfall;
As we move towards the brutal destiny,
Through our deeds.

We shall no longer be living,
Then shall her dream seize,
A new world, a new dream,
A world filled with the trees,
Seas dancing in their own space,
The world a charming reality;
Alas! It had to be, without the Human Beings!

Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Few heartbreaks!

The trees that outline the roads that I walk, The leaves that nestle, as I look at them. The winds that flash the leaves amongst the trees, The dreams that roll over and over again. They are all bidding me bye, My country that lasted me in it's very space, With care of divine hands and identity, Bids me, for another long journey, Away from it, distant.
How can I breathe in the roads that are unfamiliar. How can I live, in a place not of my people. How can I grow in the country not mine.
Now, as I go; I leave behind my soul. I shall wish to be back, I don't want to go.
I shall remember each day spent here, Every minute of love that we shared. My friends would be gone, My imaginations shall be on a roll.
As this little stroll, Aligns fore, towards a journey of a million steps away, I would miss my people, my Nationality. Forever and ever that I breathe and live, Be it me lamenting over or any newly found ecstasy, I would be all alone there, Away from my people, Oh! It had to be my destiny!

My life!

These pages and bulletins that remain in my sight, My powers and opinions that roll on my desk, In form of photos, certificates and my letters; I have maintained and found my hub, Of living life freely by heart, enough is there to feel and to be perturbed. These words are my heart, The reason for my being alive.

Passes by, this life!

When your own words stand by you, When your life becomes your dream, When tears remain with you as travellers, Life is a journey, Of imagining and immense duty.
We keep it for our dear ones, As a bouquet of flowers from outside, Incense of power that is broken, For then, you listen not, To what heart says; But what presses upon to material it's say upon you.
Suppresses and domination's leave the stress widespread along, Life is what life, No say in the levels of the throng; Our ability gets minimised, Our actions are mystified, Having no say of yourself, you are left to sob by yourself and then cry, It is life and a journey that like a wonder passes by!

The making of my fate.

Hurts and evades of any peace that could be examined. Pains and lurks my thoughtful signing. I am a sufferer, stress occurs as the myriad, it's the greatest attack on my conscious.
To be a child was sober and cute, I had thought, it was about being an adult, That life was to make any influence, Little had I figured, How I were to be taken as a trash, In the name of honour, It's an unjust equation that sets out to be.
My life's many rights, Are being taken away, Like; a blanket pours over me, Covering my dreams.
This life may, dwell deep into it's illumination; When I shall seek abode for my journey's destiny. I shall be not seen around anymore, I shall have gone away forever long. This is my newest secret, When while living, I shall be made an unknown.

Tuesday, 15 October 2013

Mother and child!

Like a child lulls to sleep, While being in the presence of mother, In the arms where love occurs with the breeze, Of closeness, nearing towards her soul.
The child connects with ease, With the sense of the mother's breathe, That penetrates like a cover, Over the child's sleeves.
Saving the child from any ills, That may exist; There is a land of care with holy kisses, That makes us emerging more closer, to her from childhood.
A mother understands the relation with her child, For she has felt the child's pains and given him/her life.
With her warmth and blessings; Comes the greatest gift in a mother's hand, Her child with his/her dreams.

Light and darkness!

Unknown the stars glitter, Of their identity, for where do they belong. My state turns my words bitter, I wonder if I ever stood strong.
Had I known, to which land; I had kept my roots to, Could I be a man of knowledge, For then I could have known, Who I was.
Little patches outshine, The breeze; They have felt they belonged to the trees; What for a person in me, Who pretends to the state what he be.
People can't understand it, The heart that beats. Little can they see in me, What greets.
The roads provide trouble, Not because, these are full of traffic, These are leading many routes, Describing my state of youth!
Yeah! Now, the transparency stems too; A little hope towards the shadow of my life.

Sunday, 13 October 2013

A rainy day!

"Rain glistens the imagery,
That outlays in the oceanic sky;
While the rain seizes to exist,
Becoming a shower and a tide that ruffles,
Upon the symmetric lyres that ring,
Upon the sands, and the trees;
The rhythmic patronage that steams."

Friday, 11 October 2013

Story of a love.

Shreyas had been to his tution class, before getting ready for his cricket practice in the evening. In his tution, he was known for his cricket playing skills. Girls liked him as he kept silent while he was studying,whenever in the class. Girls wanted him to speak but he spoke less, being an introvert. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk, but he didn't want to talk useless. Others interacted well. He kept to himself and no one could trigger laughter out of him. Being handsome, he had all the talking abilities, that were essential to catch the attention of the people around him; mostly his teachers.

His abilities were that he collected all the beautiful lines from the well known personalities; that touched his heart. Shreyas felt that he could combine all those sayings and become famous for his words, or selections of the stanzas that he uttered. Being imaginative at every dimension and at cross roads of life, he was just speaking his heart. He less believed in himself, if people would like or give way to what he felt. In school, this boy had walked alone; now he studied alone, by himself. The way he dressed up was elegant, being a description of his personality, his soberness of style and manners.

The cricket coaching was about to begin. Shreyas had left home, to reach the play ground. Peddling his cycle he moved, later he parked it in the school premises wherein he practiced. Hence, utilizing the play ground when the school ended.  Starting with the warm up; the boys did sprints. Developing trigger to the muscle tissues while controlling the pace of one's run. After the net practice, the boys were up for the catching practice. While, he stood with the other boys in a line to wait for his turn; he found his heart beating much faster as he thought about that girl. The beautiful girl, whose hair dazzled as she lived her dreams. She was a fashionista, whatever she wore expressed her elegant choices. That stuck Shreyas, in the web of her dreams. He liked being there. Shreyas had a feeling that the love was mutual. Whenever he looked into her eyes, there was a far truth that couldn't be created because it came up itself.It spoke itself, it's abilities to utter the heart open. The eyes were a road to the heart of a Being. The face is another such indicator and so is the body,the bodily gestures. You walk alone, you run; all of it says your heart.

There are certain moments in life when the heart is so happy on winning after a lot of hard work and perseverence had been put. Struggles, lead us to a road of excellence; we dance and want to run. It's as if we are at the top of the world. On the other side, there might have been times, when the feet couldn't move steadily. The fear, the anguish appeared,sidelining our temperament to grief. Our gestures have a lot to do, with telling our state of mind.

The moment wasn't merely when, Shreyas was practicing that he thought of her. Her essence, her beauty remained with him,in the parallels of life. Be it here or there, her thoughts occurred with the strength of a powerful magnet. The feeling was beautiful. Her sight was the greatest gift ever. He missed her, wanted to speak his heart open. Hell, he didn't know what to say! Time moved by, the love enhanced its glory manifold.

Now, he travelled in the Metro rail.Through the glass window he could imagine her standing next to him. He wished so, even if it wasn't to be true. The songs that she listened to, he started listening to them. The movies that this girl watched, he watched too. Like,everyday had a purpose. A purpose to reach closer to her. He thought, he could move towards her, he could make her, his friend. Well, time moves. We say, it's sudden that changes accustom uninvited sometimes or for some people, changes are the most unexpected things. You can move with them, accept them. Similar is with making choices, at times; we are pressed by either external forces to make an opinion and at sometimes, what heart presses or insists without any basic justification. That becomes the rule of the day. We don't think about these changes that occur until these end up affecting us.

So was he affected. He couldn't move closer to her. She was a talkative girl. He couldn't say anything, than what he had copied from people's words. Using those framed sentences all the times could make the atmosphere dull, if not warm. He lost her. The love that at one point appeared as the most blossoming and glittery was losing on its values of affection and closeness. She seemed to have been waiting for him. Then she moved on, whereas, he didn't answer to the change, that's the constant in life.He couldn't change his mannerism and come out to exclaim what was hidden in his heart. Life was a standstill at a moment. Cricket dreams were gone with the ashes of time. Love that was waiting for its sole fulfillment, became unknown,unaware of its presence. “Oh! It was to happen to me, that she had to go away from me. Why didn't she give me a chance?” He questioned the Gods and cried like a loser in the starters. Quite funny! Yeah it is. In the main course, he had strong will to not let go his love. He had felt this connection of hearts for the very first time. No one could question this happening. Not even the girl’s acceptance of the fact that she didn't love or care for him. For he had stared into her Being,he had known by heart that at one specific segment of her life, she did care. She had been lying to herself. She had been in love. He cycled around her home mostly alone, and at times with his best friend, Prekshya. It seemed,if Shreyas no longer mattered to her anymore.

Shreyas just lost her midway, while being at that specific position in life he was stuck. He thought she would come, she had moved ahead in life. That's his story, the story of a love; not visited by the honesty and purity to which it belonged. Love had marginalized.  That could have bloomed with fruitfulness and charm. It was a memory; that love remained. Shreyas had to move ahead, by himself. Maybe, by giving himself, his life; another chance. Could he do it? The question remained.

Mornings are so compose...

Mornings are so compose. Like, instrumental; to bring life in the soul. All thoughts of the last night. Regardless of how sour or pale, disappear as morning enters the lane.
The winds when come along with the mornings. There's an attitude of peace all around. Buzzing in the ears, the birds singing tones. Little drizzle that cools the atmosphere. A rhythmic wave of sunlight, appears later on. And if not; then the chill fragments. It's a nice way to invite, cool enchanting days of winter. It's showering of the snow, in the form of waves; in those places where actually there's no snowfall happening. In the air, the winds like I go about saying with quite certainty; like a lover does move. Dreams flare, along with words of wisdom. Mind rests in peace. Serene the call of the environment. Another morning passes by.

Saturday, 5 October 2013


His thoughts weren't blank. Mere blurred but very curious, his thoughts exclaimed out to be. He walked alone, he wondered if someone followed him; no one did. He fell down, he had no friend offering a hand of care. In a distant land, had he come . His village, was one; where love rung, in it's very winds. Now that he had come to this new city. The roads, that pretended to be wide, but were shorter in comparison to the unending roads of his village. Here, in the city; everyone was proud to live in big houses. In his village, there was no such pretense. People there were equal. No one superior, no one was less accomplished than the other. They walked together, waiting for the acquaintance, if he/she lagged behind. Now coming to this city; he had no one with him to hold his hand when he cried like a little child. He did cry, he felt nostalgia, grief-stricken as he moved about. 

Why is it an essential thing to leave places and make new friends? He questioned himself. Why aren't people alike? Why do their nature's change, with the changing places. They look at my face, they laugh as if I am not normal like them. They treat me, as if I am not a human being. What if, I didn't acquire such disposition and mannerism to talk, walk like they do? What if, I didn't get the best schooling in the country? Why....

In his words..

"My dreams were stuck. The ones that I thought, could be enhancing their glow; just dwarfed like the sunset as the moonlight accustoms the sky. No more sunshine, but sitting with the little light of the night. The night, too weeps with me. When I remember, the girl whom I loved all my life. I would wait for her every day, just to see her glare at me. Whenever she passed her eyes, over my eyes I felt a touch of life. I felt I was alive. She just disappeared. Her aunt asked me to stay away from her. When I was coming to this new city, I wanted to meet her once, just once. I could have given her all my blessings, my life would have been at peace. Why couldn't she meet me that last time?

I had known, it was the last time; a last chance that I could look up at her. The only moment in my life, when I could experience the meaning behind my life. I couldn't see her, she didn't come.."

This way, life poured a lot of sadness unto him. Being in a crowd, he had lost himself somewhere. He heard people passing comments, he heard them abusing his style. They made fun, boys and girls moved away from him. The sacrifices he made to create his identity, had gone in vain. Each day, he lost himself. One day he met a girl, who listened to his notions through his gestures. She talked to him, and he put across his heart to her. All his fears, his pains he described. He had felt, if she was the girl whom he loved; who came up to him. She wasn't that girl. But, a caretaker in that girl; made this guy know that love in this world still existed. That it wasn't important from where you come or you came, but how honest you were and now became. She spoke to him.

She said, "You know, Utkarsh? In this whole society you need to struggle. Someone has rightly framed that, "Life is a struggle." Don't break yourself at this moment. Don't become a romantic fool. Because, love doesn't teach you  to break yourself. It teaches you to see an ocean out of a glass of water. That creativity that strengthens you, to believe that your love shall fulfill one day. By the passing time, that you wait for it to flower; you shall see your life, being so powerful driven, enough to turn the people who are in sorrow to happiness. Bring smile to their faces and see, how the meaning of your love outshines every possibility of completion of your love story. And then, it's not a story. Because, stories have an end. Love is universal. It grows; it is the undying flower of humanity. As it doesn't dwarf, it blooms from person to person. It's creativity that can let a seed germinate. The Mother Earth wants her Children to live merrily. She comes to us, with her affection and care, giving us food to eat, land to walk, and seasons to feel. It's that creativity, that you need to dream of. Believe that your girl looks at you, she's near you. She hasn't gone far."

Her advice moved Utkarsh! He replied. "Yes, love is generous. There's no definite philosophy that can be termed as correct in this world. Philosophy is a real form of creativity. No one can question it. If anyone does question someone's philosophy in life, then it's his/her shortcoming, of not being able to create his/her own. It's about loving your life, that you get your love of life. Every love comes true, with a belief in one's creativity." 

Utkarsh had a friend by his side. In the new place, someone gave him what he had been searching for, "The meaning of his life- to love, and be loved." He had known that it wasn't important, what the world said about him. It was more important, that he would keep on being the way he was and listening to his calling of life.