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Friday, 31 October 2014

A rhyming sail.


Her shoulder, to keep his head on;
Her eyes
would understand each vibe,
whatever his heart had to say,
she had known already,
whether he said so, or naught,
she had known him this much strong.
His heart knew
how it felt to be in her place, her situation.
Whilst she wouldn’t believe he felt her pain.
She believed not in him, for any care;
she only knew, how to give love
and not to accept it.
He had known many a people,
like her, who had lived a life with many-
many people. Her friends, they had been.

Whilst he roamed around, being lonely,
She decorated every moment, with a feel,
enriched with love, that was the paradise.
With her pals, pleasant every day
of memories, full of joy and symphony.
Life had brought them, at this array;
that they had to meet, being
from exactly different poles, yet they say,
that the opposites attract, do they stand,
for each-other, every part of the day.
How much in everyday
do they disagree, it doesn’t matter.
For, at the end of each day,
they were lovers in friendship,
beautifully held together.
Few misunderstood them, what was
about to be going in their feather.
Well, it was their concern for either self,
it was all that to them mattered.
She could accept, that he couldn’t heal her,
Yet she won’t be healed,
unless his presence gleamed,
through the stars at night that twinkled,
or be it the flourishing blaze of the sun.
They were friends for life,
for whatever the world had to comment
in their yet anew, a different verse.
The truth remained to be a truth,
ever lively and ever pleasant.
Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Monthly report, 'October'.

Hello everyone

I hope, you are doing well. Through this letter I would like to show the outline of my blog, and describe the changes, the structure, the growth of my blog in the month of October.

This month has been good to me. I have dreamt along, as much as I have thought about various issues in our lives; issues over political mindset, over the health of my country. I have in this month written poems on love, and continued my narrative, 'A talk in the train.'; hence publishing its two episodes. I had started with writing reviews on Sachin Tendulkar's initiative over the 'Swacch Bharat Abhiyan', followed by an article in response to critics, 'Why I like Chetan Bhagat?'. These two articles were well received and got the most views. This month also had a lot of change in the blog, in terms of its structure.

The name of the blog changed from 'Love as its only on approach', to 'Flair, love, redemption (FLR)', that was updated for further discussion; there was a good response. Also a space for, 'Guest blog' has been updated on the profile. This time it was a Travel Narrative by 'Kasak'(pen-name of the writer). A youtube channel has been started, with two videos being uploaded on the channel.

Keep reading and sharing your thoughts on the blog. All the best!

Thank you
Gagandeep Singh Vaid


Thursday, 30 October 2014

'Sky' is the dream..

Mind bears with lots of thoughts,
Memories that had in life added upon.
But how long can someone listen to you,
how much, yet how much.
At the end, you have to but find solace,
with this time, and not think this as a maze;
for whatever was, ’twas the past, what is,
it is in the present. Why to be left, in that time;
when today is even capable to make a rhyme?

In the lost glories, in the dreams so beautified,
in the present ambiguities and fights;
why to run from this place when you can instead,
even brighten the damped roads with gems.
Why to loosen and not gear upon, when breathe is,
and life is in us. Until the last bit of your energy,
why not put your effort enough, to do what interests,
satisfies your soul the most? When waves the sky,
with bounty and charm in its disposition;
then why to take a back seat, when a lot is to be won?

Reach your sky in this life, and express it;
and make its presence felt in the walks of life,
under the stars and the sun likewise, you are one;
the gem, that glitters, composes and coils with love.

Wednesday, 29 October 2014

A talk in the train! Meet-up 4! (i)

Ratan had asked Raghubir to bring his story book for him to read his works. On their next meeting at Cha Bar in Connaught Place, Raghubir brought his selected stories for Ratan to read. It was not a book that Ratan had asked for, but many stories were bundled together in a folder. Those weren’t much organised but Ratan did not say anything but grabbed on to it, as soon as he saw it. 

While they talked on issues of their country, from the new government to the Economic policies that were being formulated by the government ministry; Ratan had something in his mind. That thing he had already received, to read the stories his friend wrote. Those were quite a many, and he was looking at the folder and the papers placed in between, with stories stapled and differentiated from one another, on A-4 sized sheets. Few looked old while few looked as new prints, done just for Ratan. There was more of his friend, Ratan had wanted to know. In this man, had many deep a stories that kept him so imaginative in his own world; that he wasn’t triggered much, by whatever great or big was happening in the fashion-frenzy world. What new fashion was storming in, Raghubir didn’t seem to be moved with. But, he was unlike other people Ratan had ever known. There was a different light, from his eyes; that enamelled in his words, whatever he said. So much so, his world seemed different from the one where Ratan felt, he was living in. Raghubir always had his own views, that is why he was referred to as a deep person. The person who was hard to be understood because he didn’t even understand himself; let alone others to know him well. Or maybe, no one had been that close to him, to understand even his mood swings, or reactions. 

So, they parted to meet until the next meet-up when Ratan and Raghubir would interact over his writings. Ratan was all prepared to read them all, and to keep them as closer to his heart, as anyone would keep a precious gift. What for the society was the greatest luxury- was for this actor, his friends’ treasure of love. Where he wrote his heart out, what he could never say to people straight because simply- no one had the time, to listen to as much he had to say. Because it asked for time, to listen to him, to know him and no one was as free, to listen to him. 

Ratan reached his home and started reading the stories by his friend. The first story he started with, was titled; “Load on the roof”. This story talked about a man, who was married at a young age and how he was leading his life. From, getting rejected in job offers from places, when he finally got one good job; and then, how his relatives ran after him, pleading for favours all the time. When, there occurred to be an imbalance in his family life because of so many people affecting them; on how his wife left him, and his mental peace was lost. He had given up on all his relatives, who had been the reason for the disturbances. On how, this innocent guy answered everyone on their face. Regarding how, he had his life to lead; and the life which wasn’t meant to please others at every point. He got his wings, and one day his wife came back to him; they had peace at home, and peace started from one’s own self was a good message expressed through his story.

In the next story Ratan read, there was another young boy who worked at a tea shop for very less money and it’s his story on how; he went on to become a rich person. When he listened to the trade talks by the shopkeepers in the street he worked; he learnt at every step by himself; to end up making a beautiful future for himself. It had been because he didn’t really let his reality break his dreams; he sheltered his dreams and didn’t lose himself to any intoxication which young people often get into. The young boy, who visited Sai Temple daily, had his faith answered; when he believed he could, that he finally did. 

Ratan was impressed but he had kept his eyes at the characteristics of the protagonists in the stories; those were similar to what he found in Raghubir. Was it the fact of the matter that Raghubir had seen people from their suffering’s, and hard work that they had to put to win their bread and butter. It was a characteristic that Raghubir surely had, the vision to read people by their faces. True that one could not be understood merely by the first impression. But, what connected him to those people was that pain, the pain that is universal. It belongs to all beings, and comes to all. In life cycle, sadness, happiness came to everyone and was not secluded to only few. Yes, it was true enough that many people had to fight for little happiness, the battles within themselves. But, then Ratan thought what was happiness and what did it really mean? 

Ratan couldn’t wait but call his friend, he dialled his number and they began the conversation.
Raghubir wasn’t much interested to let his heart out on telephone, but his friend couldn’t wait for their next meeting at the train station the next morning, and also they were meeting again in the day later.

“Okay, Raghubir. What is happiness?”

Raghubir was wondering what had happened to his actor friend. Why was he so curious to hear him? Then, he answered him; by simply putting his thoughts across on the phone. Although somewhat shy to say much more of himself to his friend, without being sure if he was going to make sense to him; he could only continue because at that point, Ratan was adamant to listen to him all the way more. Unfortunately to say but in the next moment the telephone line was cut, and Ratan’s wait had remained to be a wait. In the meantime, Ratan searched for different titles in the many stories which he had taken from his friend. He got to read, ‘Happiness’ and held it tighter to read it. "Wooww. the spirits knew it somehow, I was searching for it. Yay!" He expressed his excitement on reading the title of the article. 

                                                       Happiness

Many a times in our lives, we feel sad; that means we are not happy. Sometimes, happiness is seen as peace. Surely, it is the peace of mind that matters the most. But, what does it mean to everyone, differs from person to the person. Few for that regard, feel MASLOW’S NEED HIERARCHY THEOREM SITS THE BEST, example for determining the level of happiness and satisfaction. Where, one’s self actualisation needs accord the highest level of peace and merriment in an individual’s life. Similarly to put it, in his words; what was the first level of peace was to fulfil one’s basic needs. But, still was it to be left on, the things that we accomplish that make us happier? What was it, that triggered one person the most. Yes, it depended from person to person; but yes, to reach one’s goal is the best feeling in the world. But then, do we get peace guaranteed for all our lives? Don’t we succumb to fall yet again? Yes, we obviously do, but then we get up too. 

For that matter, look at an old couple, who are left alone after their children leave them; are not there for their parents, like the parents were there for their children. Few people often say that, old age is the second childhood but what happens when there are daily fights over property, on ridiculous matters. Where was the peace of the old parents, who wanted to see the happy faces of their children and now, all they have got is tears. A man can do hard work and labour all his life, and then he has to keep on doing his job till his last day; because there are trouble makers in his own relations. So much so, that this old couple in the old age, have to sacrifice, their income; their dreams still, dreams being nothing more than to find their children happy but see what becomes of the world these days. In India, parents do keep their children with a lot of care; and even with less resources with them, parents work to bring the glitter and smile to the faces of their children. When the mother teaches her child and fulfils all the childish desires for toys, dolls etc. But, when they grow up and marry; the truth of the world threatens the lives of their parents every other day. They have to believe in their prayers that things will get better but no, the trouble makers kill each left day of their parents’ life. Where is the scope of happiness, when there is no respect? Well, that’s not the case with everyone, but still; such stories exist in this world. 

There’s a story of a old man, who was waiting for his sons to end the conflicts after their meeting in the temple. His eyes were hopeful, with the Gods’ name; his eyes that were pale, with his wife sitting next to him, holding his hand; to let her husband know, that he was not alone. That, they would live through whatever becomes, together and not leave each other alone. That lifelong togetherness of the two, if could not act as a valid example of love and care for their children; then what else could anyone expect from life? It was all the way much, so forth; realistic world to be in, when dreams of love and togetherness were better to be left in dreams. The materialistic world, was enough to disrupt the peace of the world. Whilst the people in high social standing, who would wear branded clothes would look down at other people as inferiors and would mock at them. Not realising their journeys and challenges of and behind their lives. There was a lot to learn than to mock at. 

End.

Ratan wanted to read more of it, but whatever he read; he was speechless. To him, the dream of being a stage actor was the driving force towards his daily rehearsals and practices. When he wanted to reach to his audience with his sense of wit, his ideals and thoughts; and the holding up of precious moments in the play wholly together. A little emotion was gone, a little mind was diverted and the situation was out of hand. Maybe, the effect that was prolonged to exist upon was left unreached and unpressed; if the actor lost his state of mind during the performance. This time, after reading the article; he was left with many emotions to counter. In no time, he glanced the sight of a old couple waiting at the bus stand; from hours, as visible from ‘The Attic’, the place where Ratan and his team practiced. In through that window, was the couple visible and each time Ratan rehearsed a monologue, he had to cover the space of the room; that was seen as the stage. At this junction, he could see them; their faces looking far long the blank road for a bus to come their way and ride them, to their destination. 

Faces seldom revealed the truth behind their feelings and emotions in general. Faces, that don’t pretend; faces that mean themselves. Whatever people did good or bad, in the end it was all visible. For that matter, no one’s pretence was ever hidden, while no one’s good deeds ever went without love. People who did good, didn’t ask for anything; but the pretending faces asked a lot, more to sustain their selfish desires than to experience bonhomie or to experience the sight of real beauty. For, the facial beauty may not live forever so bright and charming, but the beauty of the heart; could not fade as goes the saying. 

Like always, even that day; Ratan was left to rally in his many thoughts; thanks to his schoolmate, his childhood friend who had now become a good friend. The next day, ’twas Raghubir’s stage play; like every Saturday-Sunday, he was performing at The India Habitat Centre, in Lodhi Colony. He had already given an invitation to Raghubir, to come and watch the play. 

Curtains. 


Gagandeep Singh Vaid
29th october’ 2014
                      

Tuesday, 28 October 2014

If dreams came true.. !!


Your eyes ask your stars,
When would you shine.
Your eyes glare at the world,
How it binds, how it works.
Your eyes cherish every sight of the rain.
Your eyes smile as your beloved comes to you.
Who are you, I wonder;
what is it about you, that touches my intense.
Why do I bend at your world, the eyes that look at me.
What do you want to say to me,
Will you ever show me your face;
that you have hidden in the shade.
You shine, but you don’t show me;
who you actually are.
Oh, why do I want to see you?
Maybe, you don’t want to show your eyes to me.
But, yet I see your eyes;
in the every person whom I see, I can feel;
you are looking at me,
with your eyes at me,
until rain sights outside the window,
that you play with the water, you dance breathlessly,
you are a dancer, an artist then.
Then I see you in the paintings,
no one looks better than you.
But, in your faceless smile, I can feel your love.
The love, that stands for everyone,
just I wonder that,
why doesn’t everyone want to see you?
are they non-believers in love?
have they forgotten it that the world works only with love..
what is it, oh my God, why can I not leave your sight,
and no one else than me can see you, your smile, your eyes..
but wait, there may be people who could see you,
just that, I have to know them.. the believers in love,
they can see her, I am sure.. like I am one believer in love..
I can see her.. I wish we all can see her dreams, of a beautiful world…

Monday, 27 October 2014

Saturday, 25 October 2014

A diary of a lover.

That day. 
She came to visit us,
We two were a couple;
Where she greeted us,
Coming over, many miles.

That day, a day of freshness,
I thought would be,
Always as lively, as the mango tree.
Whence, my lady declined,
What came in offer from my friend to me.

The feelings of my lady,
had gone astray, to find us two guilty;
my friend and me,
I wondered, why she had felt to be?

Love was a topic,
to be felt, not discussed;
my dreams had felt hurt, across.
She walked away, my lady;
to leave me and my friend alone,
to look at the sky above and ponder,
for what had happened was right or wrong..
oh, we were in a fix, as the situation stormed;
to leave us, two friends all alone. 

My lady said, I was a man;
who was bad, she naught had known,
what she had meant to me, that time;
when she had taken me wrong.
Did she find us to be not right anymore,
that she was finding, a chance to break,
our equations of love, with a heedless throng.

I was hurt, as was my friend; but my love had gone.
Gone as to never return after many a tears, I had led;
She had broken my heart, and dishevelled my song. 
Oh, my girl, why did you so turn, from all the glitter,
to this maniac, and disturbing a thought.

Anyways, what she did was from her first choice,
I had no say any longer, when she had wanted to leave.
It was like, to free a bird, who was struck with me,
without her wishes so as to be. She was right or wrong,
know I not, for her heart must have her own inlet thoughts.

Then, I sailed to travelling over the sea,
To the new places, I had in offer to see.
I saw her, my lover at a place so distant to be,
I went to her, asked her the reason behind the parting;
she answered in august a light to be,
for she had to understand if it was true love,
that she had to examine it..
if I was to come, and bring her back, or would I not come,
and leave her track.. that day, I sensed happiness;
we were back together after hours of distance that had lighten..
oh, I woke up from this frightening a dream..
with my lover watching, as she sat next to me.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Friday, 24 October 2014

Few words for the self

I knowest not,
How I became so close to you.
I knowest not,
How you became so dear to me.

Up above the stars so high,
My heart composes and sings along.
There is something evil, 
While something really good and pure.

What I can call my own,
Is that light, that emits from the stars and the moon,
Oh, is it sun's own light that reflects,
Or is it my heart that lets those rays cast.

I talk with myself, I am sad or in triumph,
In many castles I have walked down,
I have found peace within the silence of mine,
Silence, that kept its place manifold,
When everything around me chattered-
there was something I could call my own;
It was my love for my very goal,
My dreams that look at me with cheerful eyes,
My heart bends to hug my work, that is mine.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

My glance at you!

You came to me with all your dreams,
As I looked at you, I could feel your being.
Your heart had said lots to me,
While you stood merely glancing at me.

For days and months had passed in decree,
You had been a traveller each and every day to me.
With as much love, as your cheerfulness cast,
You had given me enough reasons to smile and be;
Your companion in every part of your life story.
Story that was not only yours but mine too,
because you meant to me, what the sun means to universe.

Then, how could you say that we weren't meant to be?
Those friends for life, those who knew each other's presence,
without one's telling the other, such had become of our bond.
Even today when our directions go differentl ways, 
we stand at the same junction of life, in love and admiration
for one another. You believe it or not, but time doesn't really have a say,
when it is an emotion of the hearts, no one walks away.
It is time that walks in between, but not is it capable enough,
to create a void or gap between our hearts. Those have already met,
to never leave each other's side ever, because I love you my friend,
to the moon and back.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Thursday, 23 October 2014

A talk in the train! Meet-up 3(ii) !

I

That day, Raghubir had got back home and hid his face under a pillow; to let his eyes relieve and not be seen by anyone. His moist eyes, his cute dreams unseen and unfelt by anyone else. For a moment, the truth of the matter came to the front. That he had no friend, and that’s why, he was like a stranger in a world of so many people. Was it his mistake that he had no friends, or was it his mistake that he was like that, that his nature was such as his. Introvert, shy, soft and misunderstood. That whatever he would see, he would imagine only that. No one, for that matter could simply; be as honest to him as himself. Raghubir talked to himself, played with himself, laughed on his own thoughts, thoughts that were quite kiddish, quite simple. 

If he had no friend, then from where did he learn things; how he knew that world worked like this or world worked like that. What was the basis for his understandings. Who was he, within his heartiest chords? Yes, there were people who impressed him, yet there were people whom he disliked. He had a great interest in films, to watch his favourite actor’s film and feel great about the story portrayed in the film. On the other hand, he quite understood how people mocked at him, how their interpretation of his weaknesses made him even weaker. For, how long could he be friends with himself. For how long could he be unchecked by the reality, because reality was what was there; other stories that he dreamt as he watched the films were the fantasies. That, his life would be as beautiful and colourful as the film’s main protagonists' life. That was much to ask, wasn’t it?

The winter break had started in school, Raghubir had started playing hockey and he played it very well. Everyone applauded him for his attack on the field that his coach was his fan, that in a matter of few days, Raghubir had been the favourite of his school hockey team. This was the best moral boost-up he had felt after long-long time. His classmates now talked of Raghubir, his name being the first; when the boys were dividing teams before the play started. This innocent, this introvert boy had his way to everyone’s heart.

Similarly, there was another set back to his life, when after three years of being captain of the school team, he had an injury on his leg; that wouldn’t let him run as freely as he could all those years. Boys sympathised with him, but he knew; he couldn’t take his game to the highest levels but still he played. Raghubir had played always for the spirit of the game, it was sportsmanship for which, he was well known and regarded both in his school and elsewhere, including the evening coaching he went for. His coach was impressed by him, on how; he was amongst the first boys to be on the field, in the mornings. Whether it was fog, or severe cold the early morning, he would be right there; running and stretching. He was a senior player, and now he had shifted his place on the field from being an attacking player to being a player at the defence. He was a flexible player, not many were as capable as him on the field.

The morning time, she had come to practise 'javelin throw’, and she was found more interested to look at Raghubir than to concentrate on her game. After the practise and the game that Raghubir played, she walked up to him and simply praised him for his dedication for his game. She said, “Hey, Raghubir. Till now, I had heard great things about how good a player you are, but today it was such a pleasure to see you play. It’s for the first time, I saw you in the colours of your sport, fully concentrating on your game. You’re good.” It felt great to listen to her, he replied her with a smiling face, “Thank you, thanks for coming to watch my game.” She answered back with a spell of laughter, when she looked even beautiful that wintery morning. “Hahahaha.. how do you know, I came to see you only?”, Raghubir was hit a a ‘scoop' now, in his hockey dictionary. With a gentle smile on his face, he answered; “Because you were looking at me, all the time.” She giggled and they shook hands, soon they left for their respective changing rooms. 

II

Raghubir had not known it that Archana was a member of the school team, her event being 'Javelin Throw’. He saw her for the first time on the field, with that determination; when it was her turn, to throw the javelin, and those were the preliminary rounds for the sports day qualification. She did well and sooner Raghubir congratulated her on having qualified for the finals of the Sports day meet. She smiled and thanked him for watching her play. She knew, he was a star in the school; now that girls talked about him. How time changed, he thought, while she might have thought the same. 

The same day, the boys and girls from all sports had gathered near the 'Banyan Tree’, in the school, it was a rich afternoon; with sweet winds, touching everyone and making them hide their faces inside their blazers. Well, few did it actually only to laugh at one another for doing so. After the meeting got over, which went on for an hour; it was the time to leave for their homes. Raghubir had an idea that Archana lived nearby his home because he had seen her once, in the yellow bus; and coincidentally that was also the sports day meet, and now again; were the preparations of the sports day, getting along. Everyone was leaving, but then and there Raghubir asked Archana if she would like to walk with him, in the play field. She agreed and she had given him a look, that expressed how she had wanted it to be quick, as the day was getting darker. They slipped through the boys and girls and went to the field, where the grass was cut to nearly perfection. The chill drew them to feel each other’s breath, but sooner they had nothing to say, but quietness in them followed them. 

Maybe, they were reminiscing, their even younger days in the same class. When Raghubir couldn’t say but a word to her and she had to leave his way with a smirk. 

They liked each other’s presence, and exchanged how changed Raghubir had been now. It was beautiful a feeling to listen to her voice, he felt; he had liked her still. Just he didn’t want to say her that, because he had known that she already knew his heart. But, why did he feel so; when she didn’t care for him in those past days. Past was past he thought, but still he feared getting so closer to someone, and to Archana. Still, he wanted to give sometime; he knew, they could be very good friends and that to express her his love, may dampen their bond of friendship. He wanted to keep it pleasant as it was, he feared losing her as a friend. But, why did he fear so? Mad so, he was in love. He feared love. He feared those feelings to be broken, to be dissipated. For him, love didn’t happen everyday. But, he saw in her eyes, what he saw in his own eyes. What could he do, what could he not. He was in such a fix.

III

The Sport’s Day was a success. That was one day, when they were again talking and walking in the same place as before. The place they liked the most, they happened to be there once more.
"Few hello’s remained to be, a greater part of one’s life. While few hello’s weren’t meant to be so enriching and amicable throughout. Few people whom we liked a lot, and few people from whom we maintained a distance.” 

That was one day, when Archana and Raghubir were walking down the field. The first class was about to start, when this shy boy had bent down on his knees to present to Archana, a rose. He proposed to her, while she smiled and their eyes kept intact as if that was a calling from the wonderland. Wonderland where they were happily sailing, with where there was nothing to fear about.

"I respect your feelings Raghubir. And you’re a great guy Raghubir. You know, don’t take me wrong; but we are best as friends. We should keep this bond as beautiful as it is today, forever.” This was her reply, and quite heart-broken, yet made to feel alright with her gentle touch, as she held his arms to let him stand up again. She felt, if he was embarrassed, but soon; she expressed him, that there is one bond of love which is so special and spiritual. It’s that connection which we can have only with very less people in our life. Or just a selected few. She told him, that he was a special person and a good friend. That she had known him for years, as a soft guy at heart; but she told him, that it was right to cherish their friendship. 

They walked past the basketball field, then entered their respective classes; promising to go back home together. Where Raghubir had been confused, there Archana cleared his confusion’s. In a way, he had gained a peace of mind. He didn’t feel bad any longer. He was happy, that she expressed her honest heart. Honestly was the greatest virtue. Things went beautifully in their friendship, and that was the story Raghubir had. The story of his love for a girl. The only girl. 

In the next meeting with Ratan, Raghubir narrated him his story. This time, they had met in a coffee shop after their work and then boarded the Metro Rail, to get back home.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

A talk in the train! Meet-up 3(i) !

I

Yes, he dreamt like a bird. Yes, he dreamt like someone; who had been in love.
Love, that was beautiful in every countless hue. Love, that had its own touch, unmatched by any other feeling in the world.
He had his own story to tell, not sadness in his story but happiness all the way. Yes, he had been in love; it had felt great, yes, he thought it again and again. He had been in love.

Those had been his school days, when he had liked a girl. At that time, in fifth grade; he had felt what love was, the most auspicious feeling. When, this dreamer in Raghubir would keep on thinking about her, about how her hair was done, how she matched his eyes and how his heart smiled. Just one eye contact, gave him enough reasons to cherish his day. To call his day, the best day that he had ever lived.
 
Those were the days, of sports meet in the school. He hadn’t had enough audacity to go and talk to her before that. Well, that day had not been an exception either. He didn’t go to her. What happened was that, school bus came to the stop in the morning that was a Sunday morning. It was a yellow bus, that means a school bus; unlike the transport bus that he took daily. When he entered the coach, he saw her in the bus and that journey by bus to the school was the most beautiful one. All throughout, he thought of looking at her; but he couldn’t do so much. Because, Raghubir had been the shy guy all the way.

After the sports meet, he talked to her for the very first time. Although, fumbling on every word; he couldn’t quite make her understand what he had wanted to convey. But, he did make an impression on her. He tried to ask for the helmet that she wore, so that he could collect all the helmets from his classmates after the drill was done and complete the duty assigned to him. He felt nice, that she heard him, his voice. In joy, he ran the whole corridor, once she had left the class; only to spot her yet again, from the stairs. When, she matched her eyes yet again with him. It was the moment of his life, that couldn’t ever break the beauty of its symphony. That solace, the happiness to dream; yes, the sports day had turned out to be a triumph for this lover boy.

The next days, he expressed to her; how much he liked her, obviously after it was clear through his eyes. He had felt if she felt the same for him, but then; came a day. He didn't propose her, how could he?

The teacher was calling out the names of all students in the class and a specific boy was to sit with a specific girl for a month.  The seat fixing was in process when, coincidentally; the teacher called out the names, and it was Raghubir and Archana. After announcing this pair, the teacher went on. Raghubir knew, he had won a chance to talk to her yet again. He knew how wonderful a feeling it was, yes; he knew it well after the sports meet drill. As he was in his dream world at that instant, Raghubir’s old partner Aditya, went to Archana’s desk and told her that the teacher wanted them to sit together.

Raghubir felt betrayed and asked Archana, for why she allowed Aditya to sit next to her whereas it was he, Raghubir whose name the teacher had called out and not Aditya. Raghubir asked the teacher again but this time, she scolded him instead. “Let them sit now”, came the reply from the teacher. It was as if, someone had fired a bullet and that someone was the best shooter, that it had to hit him and leave him unconscious. Anyways, he took the other seat with his other classmate and he felt that anger plunge in his heart for his friend, but he couldn’t speak a word more like he never could. That was the worst part of all, ‘To have a voice’, but what if it didn't come out when needed. He cried in his heart, but the chance to talk to her was gone. Even when he asked Archana to tell Aditya to move; she gave the same reply, that was ‘confused’. Raghubir kept on looking at the walls and the floor, all alone in the class in the break time. He had no companion, he thought.  That thought, that was true in every respect of the words.

Whom would he express his feelings, when he was hurt, when he too wanted to play like his other classmates, laugh at jokes and not be a joke himself always. It hurt his heart out, it felt so lonely to be in that class. Now, that he got to know that Archana didn’t care for him. If she did, she could have easily asked Aditya to get lost, he thought. His anger couldn’t reach Aditya, he had known how to eat it up; but he was afraid thinking that, what would happen when all the accumulated anger would come out all together one fine day?

Yes, he was in love; he knew. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be too hurt. Also, that was the first time, he had felt such feeling for any girl. He still said to himself, “She’s lucky to have me as her lover, I am lucky to have her as her lover. Umm… how would we look in old age? Yes, I will have a stick in my hand; she will hold my arm.. but no, we will be fit people then.. no need for the stick.. we will jog together………………” His dreams never had an end. Like a spontaneous stream in the sea, meeting the ocean of fantasy, his dreams that came and so passed the lore, of both happiness and dismay side-along,

 II

Few days passed by, the same schedule followed. Classes happened, teacher’s asked for the home-work, Raghubir was scolded with other boys and girls for not submitting it on time. Day by day, there was more fun, with swimming lessons; there were Yoga sessions held every morning. The chilly mornings when students were asked to sit in the corridors, on the mats that they had brought from their homes. From Asanas, to Yoga postures; there were sessions when teacher’s joined in too.

Raghubir had felt as if, he was not likable in his class, more so over because Archana ignored his eyes, she didn’t talk to him. Even Aditya, who talked to Raghubir earlier had become an unknown in a passage of few days. Raghubir thought, if Aditya liked her and she liked him back.

In the recess time, when everyone was out of the class; this young boy was sitting on his desk, looking yet again at the walls, the blackboard; and trying to draw something with a chalk that he had kept in his pencil box. He found the boys and girls playing in the field outside from the window and he kept his constant gaze at them. Many groups, few were playing with the ball, few were eating hamburgers. What was the most beautiful part of it, was the fact that Raghubir enjoyed being alone. Earlier, he was sad about the fact that he didn’t have good friends; but now he had got used to his own company. He saw things, as he understood them; when he heard people talking, he thought if it was right or wrong. Just one thing this time what was missing in Raghubir was a smile and laughter. Laughter that would tell how happy he was, but he didn’t know how it came about.

Yes, there were times when he couldn’t stop giggling, but that happened once in a long time. When others found no reason to laugh, he laughed then. He was a person, whom no one could understand. Just because he had never got a chance to express himself, and now that he didn’t want to express himself. As if, he didn’t know, how to go about doing that.

That day, when he turned back from the blackboard, he found himself standing next Archana’s desk. Her notebook was lying on the table. Having enough courage, he picked her notebook to start reading it. She wrote in big fonts, a straight handwriting with one line space between every word. Raghubir’s handwriting was cursive, although not very good; but not bad either. Anyway, this girls writing looked more presentable to him at that moment. Even after, all the judgments made by him, the only thing Raghubir had good was his handwriting. Few days back only, he had got a chance to enter a handwriting competition although he didn’t get a golden star in it but a silver star. The boy, kept on moving the pages, one by one. He feared something, the fear that moved constantly in his head; or to which he had given birth and space all the way more. The fear was if someone found him reading her notebook.

Then entered Rishi with his team; Aman, Uday, Ritvik and Vikas. Aditya followed them and these five boys went straight to Raghubir. Uday took hold of his collar and pushed him to the desk further more. Raghubir lost his control and having grabbed Archana’s notebook in his hand; he just fell on the floor, that is between the seat and the table, what can be called the leg space. He was hurt on his back with the notebook in his arms, Raghubir fell on the floor with his head touching it first. There was a cut on his upper lip, as he was such a delicate boy. Blood was in no time, covering his mouth.

Unable to fight back, difficult further more because it pained; Raghubir did nothing but took the same seat and started crying, yet no one came to hold him up while he sobbed. The boys had left, the boys who were his classmates. It was bad. The reason behind it remained unknown, as of why they had hit him like that. He had done no wrong, but yes; he had feared them and that fear only hurt him even more.

Controlling his tears, with a handkerchief  on his lips, he reached the medical room all alone. Boys and girls gazed at him, his eyes filled with tears, in pain. That moment, Raghubir had wanted to run away from school for his home. Even afraid of the medical room, this boy paced against his yet another fear. The teacher in-charge provided Raghubir with the first aid, and sent him to the doctor near the school. Raghubir had got four stitches on his lip.

On his return to class the next day, Raghubir kept silent. Not taking any boy’s name still, he could see their eyes apologetic. He didn’t want them to be in any trouble but he wanted an answer as of why did they do that to him. When he had entered the class, no one came to him; to ask for what had happened to him. No one really cared, he thought. After the first class, when boys found him numb regarding the incident to the class teacher; they came to him. They apologized and thanked him for saving them, they knew what they did was not less than a sin. To cause physical harm to a fellow classmate.

Expecting Archana to come and talk to him, he was wrong; she didn't come to him, even after looking at his face, swollen lips; moreover could be the butt of jokes around than the thoughtful sympathy from his class. The day ended, and so he knew had his belief in his love, his dreams. He came back running home from the bus stop, when his eyes had the spark to see his mother and hug her to never leave her. He knew, she was there for him; loving him, no matter what the world thought of him.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Wednesday, 22 October 2014

Flair, Love, Redemption

For a far greater time, the title of this blog page remained to be, 'Love as it's only on approach'. With a thought, that love always wins. There was a child in me writing for my own blog, with as much confidence in love, as much as my faith had restored in me. That faith and confidence wasn't all about me, but it was about love. Love, that I had thought could pass through all the hurdles, that was the only driving force for the world to be.

In my tryst and journey to define this powerful word, I myself had several highs and lows in life. So, the story of life itself unravelled to me; like they say, page by page you see life. Yes, life meant a page at a time to me and considering that I kept my feelings intact. Intact in the sense that, I never let myself forget those days of the past, even after I had lived through them, experienced them.

I have written on my experiences of school life, then liking a girl, then about a couple of travel journey's that I went through. Life gave me many reasons to smile, and to feel bad about too. I have had hard critics on my blog, people have criticised my blog but still it has been there for me, I should say.

This is the first time, I am writing an open letter by my name on this blog, and yes it's personal. Like I have told my friends that I agree, my blog is not rational. It may not speak the truth for everyone, but still if it connects someway to my reader, then that is what I call success for myself.

So, after having many talks with my blog readers, who have given me advices relating to my writing; today, after nearly five years, I change the subject of this blog page. The new name I give it is, "Flair, Love, Redemption".

Having given a new subject, I am of the view that it will make my reader think for a second after connecting these three words. Love isn't always a pleasant experience to be, it hurts; as  I have felt. Take for example, when a son doesn't care for his parents after having his own family, the pain of parents is what is not a beautiful thing. Yet again, love means different to different people. For few, materialistic things are love, for few just the cool breeze is love.

In the days to come, I shall update newer stories on my blog and yes, the poems I write are not from any academic experience but my own experience of writing. In the last I would say, that this blog is meant for discussion, and yes; I invite my readers to contribute their thoughts to make this space even lively to be at.

Thank you very much for being there for me, and my writings dear reader.

Regards
Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Continuity

Dreams instate, oh where went thee?
In hearts’ that ponder, oh where went thee?

Sunrise was brilliant,
the shadows followed;
My love was present,
while your dreams trod. 

Oh, I knewest not,
You had to do to me,
Love you had sought,
Breaking my heart in sentimentality. 

Yes, it was a day,
Respite, ever-present;
Till the doomsday.

Oh, the mind that echoed,
there was something wrong;
I thought no, that mayhem,
wasn’t a part of my song.

I had trust in my dreams oh yeah,
My faith asked me to look twice,
while I, resisted for the greatest sacrifice.
For, I thought, to double check was to put,
my trust in her to question;
while I forgot that I was been trodden,
oh you call it, repulsion that happened.

Sacrifice, you sayest;
Was to question her thoughts,
oh I never wondered, it was so hurtful,
to hear what was the truth, yes; it was rude. 

Now across the silver lining,
those stars that twinkle, like the films,
like the beautifully bred stories of love,
yet I am awaken to believe in that love;
that is forever, and holds true matter not what.

Up above, the nostalgic skies;
and upon the memories that preen and attire;
I sit looking at them, I have learnt this world,
now is the time I say, to experience the maverick,
the faith of my world. My world where love is,
not for a day minutely but forever stones, it stays.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid 

Wednesday, 15 October 2014

A look..

Up above
 the inlet stars,
Deep within
 the dream empowers,
You lookest me
As I lookest thee,
oh, how we create
such a harmony.
Up above
 the inlet stars,
Deep within
 the dream empowers..

Tuesday, 14 October 2014

Why I like Chetan Bhagat.

'Why do you like Chetan Bhagat?', is what people ask me!
I answer them.
'Why don't you like Chetan Bhagat?'

They say, he is ambitious. They say, he writes shit. He writes, the same story all over again; when a boy is shown desperate enough to search for that moment to kiss a girl. When you ask Chetan this question, he says that this is the reality; he describes the man's mind. Well, right; not every man is like that; or is it that every man doesn't show that, when every man feels so. But, wait; he didn't refer to every man being such in his books; it was just about a character that he described in his book.

You know what, you can watch Bollywood films and praise the acting, everything in it and not complain; but when you read the script of the film, you have got a problem. Isn't it? You like, 3 idiots, making it a box office success, followed by Kai Po Che, and then it is 2 states, Kick. Why do you say, you like the films; but you don't like the book on which it was based. Why?

You can't take in that fact that, he makes India read his books. You can't take in the fact that he does good marketing of his books. You say that, he writes shit; isn't that reality, what he writes?

In his latest book, 'Half girlfriend', he doesn't say that all Bihari boys don't know English well, it was just a character in Madhav Jha, it was his story. People shouldn't find that offensive. 'Half girlfriend', is a story of how much he had loved a girl; yes, he seemed desperate at a point but it's his story, what problem you have with that.


The fact that other books don't sell as much as Chetan Bhagat's books, makes people so insecure. Today. creativity isn't praised, today only critics rule the world. Critics who are always viewing things from one angle. Who lets them be critics? Just because, one is a graduate from a renowned university or occupies a greater degree in professional qualification; you give them the tag of being Critics and listen to them as if, they are the God's and Goddesses.

For those, who read 'Half Girlfriend', I want to ask you people; didn't you find the story near to reality? If, Bill Gates, came to a village in Bihar, and listened to Madhav in his speech; and now in reality you can find that Mark Zuckerberg is in India, standing for a similar cause.

This journey of a college student, also describes his tryst with English language. How he learns it, how he doesn't lose hope. Chetan Bhagat, has been writing on social issues time and again, he writes a weekly column with the Times Of India, among the other newspapers. He has written essays, describing India in his book, 'What Young India Wants'. Now, you think; he's not right about his thoughts on India?

If you can comment on his writings as fake or whatever bad; then write better than him or simply make an impact. Impact as 3 idiots made, as 'Five point someone' made. It made India read novels. Do it first yourself, if you think you are too intelligent or if writing is an easy task. Then speak whatever you want to speak against him.

Good luck!

Saturday, 11 October 2014

“Swacha Bharat Abhiyan~ The way!”

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, a name which ruled the sporting world; proves it why, he remains to be in the hearts of his countrymen. 

From being the best on the cricket field, this sporting icon has made it clear as of why; he stands out amongst all; to express his love for his country. Recently, Sachin along with his team acknowledged the campaign put to light by the Prime Minister of India, Mr. Narendra Modi. The campaign by the name of, ‘Swaach Bharat Abhiyan’, was brought forward to the people of India, on the eve of  the 'Independence Day', when Mr. Modi,  in his speech pronounced the need towards cleanliness. Cleanliness that was not the job of sweepers and washermen alone, but cleanliness was an attribute to be taken upon by every citizen of the Nation.

Sachin and his team, reached a roadside in Mumbai; that was full of dirt. So much so, it was a nightmare for not only the morning walkers, but also the people passing through that very road in cars or scooters. As Sachin points out, the morning walkers could not use the pavement for walking and had to walk on the road instead; it was the need of the hour, for the citizens to themselves come up and clean their city. Sachin added that, “It was to be understood by the people, to consider the country as their bigger house. The manner we keep our house clean, similarly we should take care of our country. No one should spit anywhere on the road, because that added to the disgrace, and made the streets and roads look in a bad shape. To not throw the waste material, like packets, empty bottles, cans on the roads, but in the dustbins which were meant for the same.”


Sachin, had a talk with the sweepers who were assigned the responsibility by the Maharashtra Municipal Corporation to clean the roads. Sachin told them, how our country is our mother; and only if they could do their work on time, they would do a great job towards their motherland.  They soon joined the team and in two days, the road was beautified, with walls painted with the help of the localites; the grass was cut and it was a good deed done by the people.  

Simply it shows, that unity is strength. Only if people could not throw the waste materials on the roads, there would be a better atmosphere; a better city, a ‘progressive’ country in real sense of the word.  Also, cleanliness was the responsibility of each and every individual and not only a few.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Friday, 10 October 2014

Happy Birthday, mom! :)

Mom, for you my heart says;
You stood by my side, always.
Not a day there was when,
You weren't there for me.
In my pitfalls, to my success,
you were always holding my hand.

When I am in glory, I often go and party,
I go alone, or with my friends;
You are praying, and wishing for my happiness.
Every day with your face to see,
becomes this world a place of ecstasy.

Your care and concern for me,
Won't be matched with anyone ever.
You are the only one, who knows;
When I am glad and when
           sadness engrosses over me.

You're the closest person to me,
Your softness, your love;
is the most beautiful ornament.
Strength whispers in imaginative
tendencies, to sit and talk to you.

Love you mom,
A very happy birthday to you!

'twas about love..glory

Her dreams sidelined his every other thought,
Her voice, mellifluous; and her eyes of wonder,
Yet so deep.

She glanced a moment, at those clouds, the sky;
how she had also seen dreams of this guy.
Only if, he had but said,
all he had in his heart, his dreams bred;
Could she aim to touch the clouds,
being a bird in love bound.
Yet, it wasn't in her destiny,
Neither was it in his; to express the mutual response.

Yet, the days passed to months;
he hadn't said, and she hadn't but waited now.
Love was love, said or unsaid,
spiritual was every spirit unwound.

Still, he kept to dream about her;
while she had gone far away in her presence,
she had a lover to speak kind words,
oh, if 'twas not he, but another man;
he kept wondering how wonderful 'twas to stand,
along the clouds, feeling the love;
not with her, yet not far from her.

Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Decisions..by heart!

Many a times, few decisions we make;
Those are decisions made in haste.
Many a times, mind says nothing;
Leaves it to the heart to decision-making.

When the mind doesn't but say,
and heart is to put the right decision;
It is when, the impulses spell the answers.

Sometimes, it gets really important,
To listen to the intense being;
Because later even if decision stands to be,
a bad one, or a wrong one then still;
there is composure within and not regret.
That satisfies even what stings,
with listening to the inner chambers of one's being.

Heart is but a cradle of dreams,
it has its own ability to see,
when experiences of life fall less in sight;
it is but that gut feeling to be,
that lets one take a stand and be proud of it.

Thursday, 9 October 2014

Guest blog, by "Ka-Sak"!


                                                                 Travel Diaries

                                                        ONE WEEK IN THE HILLS

         “THE WORLD IS A BOOK, AND THOSE WHO DO NOT TRAVEL READ ONLY A PAGE”- Saint Augustine.

21st July, 2014 (Delhi- Kasol)
Perturbed by the world and the negativity it possesses, I decided to travel again. For it is the only remedy which has an anesthetic effect on the wounds which have been engraved on my soul.
After completing a strenuous photo shoot in fitness modeling and being deprived of good food for nearly seventy days and being broke as hell, it was time to take a break and head to the hills. Raj, A friend of mine decided to join in last moment and I was thankful that I didn’t have to spend much time looking for company. We boarded our ‘Himachal Tourism’ bus to Kullu from Mandi house and according to the bus driver, we would be there in thirteen hours. I check the time, it is 9.30 pm and we have been travelling since three hours now, having a brief stop at a highway dhaba. The bus smells of cannabis and a majority of it consists of Israeli juveniles. Raj is on the verge on dozing off and I, taken over by a sudden attack of insomnia have no option but watching the film been screened on the bus TV; “WAR CHOR NA YAAR”. Duh!
In nearly ten hours from now, I am going to be in the ‘rave town’ of himachal. For one whole week! KASOL! Here I come!

22nd July, 2014 (Kasol)
I was gently kissed by the cold mountain breeze, which found its way to me from the open window ahead. Raj was awake and was looking out of the window. I enquired about the time left, to which the driver estimated thirty minutes to Bhuntar, where we alight and take another local bus to Kasol, which is about thirty kilometers from there. About forty minutes later, we find ourselves pushing our way into the bus, which is as crowded if not more than a regular DTC bus in Delhi. This bus is filled with locals having bad body odour, Tibetan women carrying children and the Israeli juveniles from the bus. Seeing my breathless state Raj mocks me “See, they all want to rave!” We laugh. We reach Kasol (a small village in the Parvati valley, and surrounded by a beautiful river by the same name i.e- Parvati river). In about one hour and are surprised to find out that the place isn’t as crowded we had seen it on the web or heard about in some awesome stories regarding the village. After much enquires and fact finding, we discovered that the tourist season was on the verge of closing in the town and the last full moon rave, which we badly wanted to attend, had ended last night. We missed it by that much! 
   All our travel plans were crushed to pieces, considering that fact that we had one full week in hand. We roamed around the narrow streets of the town to find some solace. After sipping good quantity of vodka, in a local Israeli shack on a usual lazy afternoon there, Raj blurts out “Dude lets go to Dharamshala! It’s about a six hour long bus journey from here!” “And do what there?” I ask. “Well, we have to see” He says perplexed. The next thing we discovered while coming back from our intoxicated state was that we were off to Dharamshala. Our bus is scheduled for 10 pm, which gives me time to update today’s write-up. 

23rd July 2014 (Kasol- Dharamshala)
After a tiring bumpy ride, we reach Dharamshala at 6 am. As soon as we get off the bus, we meet an old man who offers us cheap accommodation. I was skeptical but Raj insists that locals in the hills are friendly people. We follow the old man, through narrow lanes and passages until we come across a travel lodge named “HOLIDAY HOME”. The owner “BABLOO” shows us the room, which on the first glance looked pretty basic, but had an awesome view of the hills from its window. I am skeptical again but Raj has already finalized the deal at 800 rupees a day. The room resembled somewhere deep into the retro era, but had a TV and 24 hour hot water supply, which was good. We keep our luggage in the room, and head out for a quick bite in the town. The cool ‘non-polluted’ breeze along with beautiful sceneries refresh as we struggle to find an open eating joint. We are welcomed by a small chai shop guy who says he can make us maggi and bread omelette. Not bragging, but that was the best maggi I ever had till date.
  After a brief nap, we decided to explore the city. From trying the Tibetan Thukpa, to visiting the cricket stadium, taking mini bus rides (which were unbelievably cheap) and enquiring about other things we could do in and around the place. Dharamshala was one serene town, no denying that but we had our plans ready for Mcleodgunj tomorrow. We walked around the stretch of the town (about four times, this place was so small!) and enjoyed an early dinner at an Indian restaurant. So as I sit here, watching TV and trying to digest the tandoori chicken I just had, Raj is out to get some booze to lighten up the tension a little. The party has started. The mountain vibes are making their presence felt.

24th July 2014 (Dharamshala-Mcleodgunj- Bhagsunag )
Another thing with mountains is that they make you a morning person, despite all your protests and resistance. However late you might wake up in your respective cities, whenever you are holidaying in the mountains, you wake up early. That is by default. I still haven’t cracked the reason behind this. Nature has some undisclosed secrets which might unfold themselves to some, while others stay questioning all their lives and still receive no luck. Our hung-over morning was marked by a great twist in the tale. Raj received a phone call from a friend who had been in Dharamshala and Mcleodgunj a month back. He constantly bragged about a place called Shiva Café, which was a trek ahead of Bhagsunag, a village just two kilometers from the Mcllo Chowk (Mcleodgunj’s junction and main point at the mall road, named after Mcllo, a popular eating joint, on the same road itself). I had read about the place too, on various online portals. So we decided, to stay another night in Dharamshala itself and spend the day trekking to Shiva café.
  We boarded a local bus from Dharamshala mall road to Mcleodgunj which was 10 kilometers uphill. The fare was thirteen rupees one side. The beautiful place boasted of a perfect blend of euphoria and serenity. It is also the home of His Highness Dalai Lama and that contributes the wonderful vibrations the town exhibits. The locals are friendly people with a care-free attitude and were more than happy to help us with directions. Since, it was still early afternoon; we did not have much to see in the town and decided to start our trek to Shiva café. We witnessed wonderful ‘Momo’ and ‘chai’ shops along the way which were delicious and cheap options when we needed a quick bite. Shiva café was located on the topmost point of the Bhagsunag waterfalls. It was about a 45 minute steep uphill trek which surpassed the ‘BHAGSUNAG TEMPLE’ and we were greeted by tiny water droplets which refreshed us along the way.
When we reach Shiva Café, we know that our trek was worth it. The place is so high on the mountain that the piercing clouds create a fog like atmosphere in the small eatery. The place has comfortable cushions and low tables to sit. With Bob Marley posters stuck all over, the place plays awesome psy-trance music. The food there is reasonably priced and it also has two rooms for accommodating the enthusiasts who wish to stay and endure the trance experience. Raj says he wants to stay. I ask him to fuck off. Outside, the café has a huge veranda alongside lord Shiva and snake idols. The crowd at the café is calm and un-perturbed by the world. We order a light snack and Flavoured Hookah.  A group of Israelis are enjoying their marijuana on one corner and a beautiful Israeli woman with blue eyes sits right next to our table, almost staring at the mountains outside. She looks curious and her gleaming blue eyes are glued to the mountains.
Our well made hookah and snacks give us a happy trip. I stare at the Israeli woman, trying to fall deep down her beautiful eyes. She suddenly catches me staring and gives me a smirk. I smile sheepishly at her. Embarrassed, I ask her “Would you like to join us?” She smiles and we instantaneously bond well. Her name is Kayle and she is from Israel (quite obviously) and has come to spend six months discovering India. She is currently halfway through her trip and plans to go ahead to Kasol, Manali, Leh and Goa. We talk for a while, and she takes leave telling us that she is planning for a trek ahead to TRIUND day after, which is a beautiful scenic hilltop location about 5 hours trek ahead of Mcleodgunj.
“We are going to Triund Raj!” I order.
“Dude, you gotta be kidding me” He says, surprised.
“I THINK I AM IN LOVE” I say.
We laugh.
So, this meant we had our further plans figured out and we would have to shift base to Mcleodgunj tomorrow and then figure out how to get to Triund day after. With our happy trip and my new found love, we trekked all the way back to Dharamshala. Finding are way through coniferous forests and wonderful army cantonments, we reached half dead at 9pm (we left Shiva café at 5.30pm), gorged on cheese burst pizzas (yes, we have Domino’s in Dharamshala) and slept like babies.

25th July 2014 (Mcleodgunj)
I woke up at 8 am, quite late if we go by the ‘mountain early bird theory’ I mentioned earlier. We got ready and had black coffee and butter toast, which seemed the safest options to go by from the lodge menu in breakfast. We bid goodbye to ‘Mr. Babloo’ and checked out of the lodge. It was time to explore Mcleodgunj, the serene town in the hills of Himachal. I kept persuading Raj that we would go and enquire first about the trek route to Triund, before we do anything else. He in return told me that his heavy frame doesn’t allow him to trek five hours every day (basically he was finding it hard to digest the fact that we had trekked 15 kilometers downhill and almost lost our way so many times last night, I found it to be adventure, but a leg breaking price had to be paid for it). Moreover what would his ‘mummyji’ say? “Beta, you lost 3 kilos, Oh dayum! You look malnourished”. Raj wouldn’t let that happen.
But how could I let go of a chance of meeting a human angel. Where else would I find someone with eyes blue as sapphire and ebony black long hair right down to her thighs? Agreed, it wasn’t certain that we would meet her at the trek, as anything could happen. But, it was worth it! “I have to convince this douchebag to trek up the hill with me, anyhow!” I thought as a stared at huge posters of the Himachal CM in weird poses on electricity poles as the bus sped its way to Mcleodgunj.
Fortunately enough, we found cheap accommodation at ‘Tashi Travel Lodge’ which was a two minute walk from Mcllo Chowk, as soon as we reached. We fixed the deal at 500 rupees a day. The room was pretty basic and small, with no television. We threw our luggage on the bed and set out to explore the city. We were greeted with a subtle ‘Hi’ by the group of beautiful Israeli women who were staying in the next room as we left.
“Jackpot” Raj said and winked.
“Oh yeah!”
Like I said earlier, the town was a mixture of serenity and euphoria. We learned that the eateries or rather ‘cafes’ like they like to call themselves are very reasonably priced and offered a variety of cuisines to cater to the various nationalities of people who came. Israeli food was a hit, undoubtedly. All the cafes were equipped with awesome and the most comfortable seating arrangement with recliners and sofas and offered Free Wi-Fi for customer access (Wow, the cell phone companies would shut down if that starts happening in Delhi!). We went to the ‘GREEN POT CAFÉ’ which was near our lodge and managed a hearty meal for 200 rupees and not to mention the Wi-Fi was unbelievably fast (And FREE too! WOW!). We walked around the streets talking to random people, clicking stupid selfies and checking out Tibetan women.  We would ask people the things we could do in the town, some would say checking out the eateries would be a good idea, while others suggested the trek to Triund would be a different experience, some warned us against Israeli locals who wore BOB MARLEY T-shirts selling Malana (The purest form of hash) while others believed visiting the DALAI LAMA Temple was the best Idea. I made a note of the things that appealed to me with the first option being the most satisfying to my forever hungry stomach.
Conversations with Raj only yielded friction as I constantly tried to persuade him to accompany me to Triund. Trekking five hours just to see a scenic place was the last thing on his mind and vice versa in my case. I had to see Kayle again!  We figured out that the trek to Triund wasn’t as easy as it looked by the the name of it. You had to take a taxi to Dharamkot (another village about 5 kilometers uphill from Mcleodgunj) which costed us about 400 rupees one side (as the road was a difficult one!) and then start the trek from there which was another 12 kilometers uphill and difficult as hell. Raj freaked out on hearing the horrendous story and suggested that buying cannabis from Israeli locals and chilling in the room would be a good idea. I was on the verge of giving up. Convincing people is hard.
We spent rest of the day eating at various cafes, discovering ‘Nick’s pizzeria’ and ‘Munchy’s Fast food’ are awesomely delicious and reasonably priced replicas of Pizza Hut and KFC respectively. In the evening we visited the Dalai Lama temple, which was located 600 meters downhill from the mall road. The evening chants and wonderful Tibetan art alongside a phenomenally beautiful view of the mountains worked its way in making us feel peaceful inside. Unfortunately, we couldn’t go see Dalai Lama at his residence without permission (Sob! Sob!). After that, we played pool at a gaming arcade and went to enjoy a light snack and a “Pint of beer” at Mcllo restaurant (which was a top notch famous property there as every year during IPL matches at Dharamshala, it would see celebrity guests coming in). The terrace bar created a magical atmosphere with old country music playing in the background. We had an awesome conversation with a waiter there who suggested us to take a trek to Triund and then go to Dalhousie (another hill-station 150 kilometers away from Mcleodgunj). As the night got darker, the music got louder and our Pints kept multiplying, the conversation became even more fun. Raj, on the other hand seemed to pass out.
“ Dude! All okay?” I asked.
A loud intoxicated reply leaves me surprised.
“What time do we leave for Triund tomorrow?” he asks.
I swear if Raj was a girl, I would have kissed him right away.
“Dude say that again, I’ll record it in case you back out tomorrow.” I said half intoxicated half perplexed.
We laugh out loud. Hooliganism!
“Okay, so we leave at 9 am sharp.” I said.
“Three cheers to my brother’s new found love! Waiter bhai! Two more pints of beer please!”
We drink and dance stupidly on random Bollywood tracks which now play, providing necessary entertainment to our ‘depressed’ neighboring customers, until we are politely requested by the manager to leave.

25th July 2014 (Triund)
We wake up with our usual hangover and curb it with a glass of black coffee. Raj regrets for having drinking so much last night and making a promise which he did not want to. Well, he had no choice! I had actually recorded him making the promise. He said that he felt my new found love deserved at least one real chance, in his intoxicated state. Alcohol works wonders sometimes, especially when it comes to melting stone hearted people! Look at the poor guy, he FEELS for me. I feel obliged.
As per our plan, we take a taxi to Dharamkot and the road was surely a dangerous gamble, especially if one is NOT an experienced local driving around the area. We plan to go up the hill and come back by evening (which obviously was an unreal approach, considering that we were amateur trekkers, who would be breathless every ten minutes while trekking up the hill).We take the cab driver’s phone number for future assistance and bid him goodbye. We start our trek and in about half an hour Raj starts his disapproval antics. His routine; stop every ten minutes-hurl out swear words at me-sit and relax- walk-repeat. I try and maintain sufficient distance from him and try and enjoy the wonderful trek instead. We come across waterfalls, lush green coniferous forests, different species of birds and other animals from the mountains. Whenever, we sat for a break, I closed my eyes and the sound of nature worked like meditation for me. My thoughts would constantly shift to Kayle, and whether if I would see her or not. Destiny has its own plans, always! But one thing was sure, if we didn’t find Kayle, Raj would swear at me all the way back downhill.
We continued our trek without much discussion; I indulged in discussions by interacting with people I came across on the way. I met a group of juveniles from Kerala, who were returning back to Mcleodgunj. They asked us to go above Triund to see ‘snow caps’ which were about another 3 hours of trek away from Triund. Raj smirked at me on hearing this and I mentally made a note to avoid the place. I would exchange greetings with anybody I saw and Raj would look at me unpleasantly and would tell me ‘To not WASTE my time’. Almost halfway through the beautiful trek, we met a group of college students from Mumbai, who had come to trek with a guide. We started walking with their group and Raj happened to find some solace in Preeti, a girl he befriended from the group. This made sure he would keep away from me, at least for some time. My thoughts constantly shifted to Kayle, her beautiful eyes and the way she smiled flaunting her impeccably white teeth. She had a lot of teeth!
We stopped at a local chai shop (Named Tea- café) and ordered maggi, sitting beside an Israeli hippie group who offered us ‘chillum’ and sat enduring the beautiful scenery ahead. I heard a familiar voice call out.
“Hey”
I look back, confused. Only to come back to my senses after a long pause, to the most beautiful wonder that ever existed.  The gleaming blue eyes and ebony black long hair. It was her!

“Hey Kayle, What’s up? You know what? I LOVE YOU. I have been behaving like a noob since the day I saw you. Where on earth have you been? I have been looking for you like crazy” Is apparently what I wanted to say. But instead I said;
“Hey Kayle! What’s up? How come you are here?”
“Remember I told you, I was coming here. So I should be the one asking. Have you been stalking me?”
I got a strange combination of cold shivers and Goosebumps on my body. How did she know!
“Umm…actually Raj wanted to come here. Plus, we weren’t left with much to do in Mcleodgunj” I replied sheepishly while passing a fake smile to Raj, who sat with Preeti. He returned the fake smile, showed his middle finger and went back to his conversation with the girl.
She laughed. I stood there embarrassed, trying not to look into her beautiful eyes.
“So you are coming with us to the party, right?” She casually asked as she lit up her perfectly rolled marijuana joint.
“Party?” I asked puzzled.
She explained the she, along with her Israeli group of friends, many of which were our contemporaries were going to have a rave uphill. This was an invitation I couldn’t refuse. She introduced me to her friends Avec and Ramatilla, a couple who had fled from their respective homes to find some solace in the Himalayas. We started walking with their group post our maggi break and discussed random topics. Avec was a psychedelic DJ back in Israel and Ramatilla was his school sweetheart. This ensured we had some good music coming our way this evening. We had some food shops uphill and nearly all the trekkers were equipped with alcohol and the Israelis ensured that we didn’t fall short of Cannabis and Malana. We were up for some good time!
Raj and his friends from Mumbai liked the idea and decided to join us in the rave as well. They had gallons of whisky stuffed in their backpacks. While everybody sat down for rest every fifteen minutes, Kayle walked like a machine. I tried to set an impression by trying to equal her pace, only to find myself breathless every few minutes. But this worked for me as Kayle would stop, seeing me lag behind and help me get my ass up. On the way, we talked about her life back in Israel, her hobbies, places she had travelled to and so on. This was one of the very few times, when I (a chatterbox!) actually enjoyed keeping shut and wished that she would keep on talking. I would notice her fiddling with her hair as we walked. She would see me doing so and would start laughing. I would pretend to be super tired, just so that I could sit and talk with her a little more. She would playfully hold my hands, trying to pull me along so that I don’t sit down. Aah! The best feeling in the world!
“What do you do, like for a living?” I asked her casually.
“I work in a strip club.” She replies even more casually, like it is the most obvious thing to do back in Israel.
“What!!” I said failing to hide my over enthusiasm.
“Yes! It is good money” she says, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.
I look at her with a big wide open mouth for a while.  Only after reality seeps in, I realize that it is not such a big deal. I mean yes, being an Indian guy it is hard to believe things of the world which collide with our values of the society in general. But on the contrary, I was getting time to spend with a stripper; a beautiful angelic stripper (doesn’t quite go together, right?)
As we trek, she tells me about her experiences in life and love, things of the destiny and soul. Her wonderful outlook towards life makes me even more attracted to her. She described love as a vibration and sex as meditation and art. For her all humans, men or women were all pieces of art who were created perfectly in their own unique ways. I found a painter, hidden deep down in the depths of her ocean- blue eyes. I thanked my stars mentally for the wonderful time I was spending with this woman.
Soon, a little drizzle started which in no time became a heavy pour. Kayle insisted that we keep on with our trek as we had almost reached. I could NOT disobey her and we kept on progressing despite the heavy rain and slippery stones along the way. We soon reached Triund and no doubt it was one beautiful scenic location. We sat at one chai shop where she lit a cigarette and I ordered for coffee. She smoked enduring the pleasant vibes of the place while I befriended a group of guys from Patiala were sitting at the shop and invited them to tonight’s rave which we were planning. They possessed a good stock of alcohol too.
About half an hour later, Raj and group arrived. It had stopped raining and we asked the locals for accommodation available. We were allotted tents on triple and twin sharing basis for 600 and 800 rupees a night.  The place had no electricity, no mobile network and no washrooms too. WTF! We rested for a bit, enjoying our tent experience and clicking pictures and then we set out to plan for the party in the evening.
Avec set up his portable console, a laptop and two ridiculously loud speakers while other friends of his rolled joints. Raj and the other guys from Mumbai sorted the bar, I and the group from Patiala went wood hunting for the bon-fire (Which made us do dangerous acrobatic stunts like almost hanging from cliffs as because of the rain most wood-pieces were wet and they would not catch fire. We would need dry wood for that, which obviously was pretty hard to find). Kayle, along with other girls freshened up and sat at the chai shop chatting and waiting for us to complete the job.
We started our party at 8pm, because it had become quite dark by then. Our bonfire was lit, despite the difficulty. The local chai shop owners were put to job for fixing our dinner for the night. The food items here were pretty expensive, the reason being high altitude and difficult conditions causing expensive transport. By 9pm the mood was set and we all were rolling. Raj and Preeti were nowhere to be seen while all other 35 odd people were doing their own thing. Some smoked joints while grooving along the music, while others made out with their partners and then there were people like me who were glued to the bar drinking and peeing simultaneously. I was very high and so was Kayle, who was dancing with the Mumbai girls, who were merrily mixing Bollywood steps and trance music. We stopped the party for a while, as everybody went for dinner at the chai shop,that is when Avec left his console open with a soft romantic track playing.
Intoxicated, I stupidly went up to Kayle and asked “Would you dance with me?”
Surprisingly, she agreed and rewarded me with the best moment of my life. Though I am sure we must have looked like laughing gags to anyone who saw us dancing, as we were really high! But I didn’t care. Holding her by the waist and embracing her presence, was all I wanted then. This was my moment!
After getting down some more alcohol down my throat, I lost count of time and events which happened thereafter. But I bleakly remember a peck on my left cheek before I passed out! (Or was it all my imagination?)

26th July 2014 (Dharamshala)
I am woken up by neighing horses, which came to graze outside our tent. I see the sun has already risen and the first thing which comes to my mind is KAYLE. I decide to go to the chai shop to get some black coffee, the best and most effective remedy for curbing hangovers in my opinion. I pass by people lying lifeless in the open. I spot the group from Patiala, sleeping on top of each other and other Israeli stoners lying beside the bonfire area. Avec and Ramatilla sleep in their disheveled tent, which was almost fully open. There were sleeping bags and blankets lying on the grass and I spotted locals going to answer their nature calls holding bottle of water in their hands and going to the forest downhill. But amidst all these things, Kayle was nowhere to be found.
As a sipped by black coffee, the chai shop guy told me that a tall woman with blue eyes had come to his shop for a cup of tea and had left about one and a half hour back. Was he talking about Kayle? I checked the time, 6.15 am. If I do the math right, she left at 4.45 am. Why would she do that? Or why would anyone do that! Going downhill so early in the morning without any company? Why? My head spun and I felt Hung-over and miserable. Even black coffee didn’t work this time around and I felt a sinking feeling in my heart. The fantasies I had in mind regarding more awesome conversations with her while going back downhill, if not anything else went for a toss. I felt crushed!
Engulfed by sadness and despair, I started my trek downhill with Raj and the Mumbai group at 8am. Avec and his friends wanted to stay up longer and the group of guys from Patiala lay as motionless and dead as I saw them two hours back! The trek downhill was easier but boring. I lacked energy and motivation. I had no company whereas Raj was having the time of his life with Preeti and others. I walked behind them, only to find Raj constantly asking me to buck up and not lag behind (like I was doing yesterday!). My thoughts constantly shifted to Kayle. Her beautiful eyelids curved perfectly to make her eyes look mystic. Had I been painter, she would have been my muse. I looked for reasons she could do what she did. Maybe, she was another mysterious personality? Or she had other plans? Whatever it was, I knew that I wasn’t going to see her again. I had had my time and was thankful for that. This thought made me feel better and I went ahead and joined Raj and the Mumbai group, hoping it would help distract my mind off Kayle. Raj’s stories and off beat jokes seemed to work a little too. I asked Raj what we were going to do in the two days which remained. He was clueless and so was I. After a while it struck me, Dalhousie! The waiter at Mcllo Restaurant said the other day, that it would be a good Idea. Raj meekly agreed and went back to Preeti. We reached Dharamkot at about 11.30am as the trek was easier downhill. We bid goodbye and exchange numbers with the Mumbai group, before they left for Delhi, from where they had a flight back to Mumbai the next day.
We called the same cab driver who came to drop us yesterday. He came to pick us up right away and we asked him to drop us to Dharamshala from where we could get a bus to Dalhousie. Raj came back to his usual aggressive and grumpy self right after the moment he split from Preeti.  He would complain about how difficult the trek was and how he had had enough. He just wanted to sit and relax in the hotel room. I ignored him until he became a complete nuisance when he refused to go as we were about to board the bus to Dalhousie. This ensured that we had a dangerous verbal brawl and I threatened him that I would return back to Delhi if he were to behave the way he was doing. In return he said I was free to go wherever I wanted but he would stay in Dharamshala for the next 2 days. He was giving me a bad trip and there was little I could do. After two hours of completely ignoring each other, we came to an agreement and settled down at staying one night at Dharamshala and leaving for Delhi the next day.
We went back to “Babloo’s Holiday Home’ and checked in right away. We rested for a while and by evening we were back to our usual playful selves. That is the thing about guy fights, it all happens when it happens! And after a while, it is all forgiven and forgotten. We decided to Rent a Royal Enfield motorcycle and explore the town and other areas that were left nearby and were within reach by road. We got a decent bargain of 1300 rupees a day from the guy at the bike workshop (considering the fact that we had the bike with us all night!). Alongside, we also booked for the bus back home in order to relieve all stress at one go. We enjoyed the hill riding experience and rode to nearby places like the cricket stadium and Kangra. We ate a hearty Indian meal for dinner before we returned back to our travel lodge.
Surprisingly, our room was raided by the local police around 12.30am. They checked for illegal substances but couldn’t find any (thankfully we had finished all our stuff by then). They checked our ID’s and then peacefully left without causing much hassle. “Phew! That is close” I said as I winked towards Raj. “Thank your stars, dude” He replied before we both dozed off.
27th July, 2014 (Dharamshala-Dal Lake-Kangra –Gaggal)
Our bus back home was scheduled for 6.30pm and we had the whole day to do whatever we felt like. Moreover, we had the bike till evening too so we could explore more places nearby. We enjoyed eating street food for breakfast before leaving for Dal Lake, which was 4 kilometers above mcleodgunj. The army cantonment and the challenging steep roads were fun to explore. Dal Lake was just another tourist spot, nothing special. We stayed there for a while playing the stone throwing game, eventually getting bored and coming back downhill. The fun about riding downhill was that you didn’t need to run the engine of the motorcycle, gravity did its job all you needed to do was balance the vehicle. This was a good economical option too as it helped us save fuel. The entire afternoon was spent riding through lush green caves, feeling the light mountain drizzle on the face, exploring nature and not to forget taking some really good pictures. From towns like Kangra (which happened to have a well made airport runway) to Gaggal and exploring various temples and monasteries, we did it all. Which somehow made me wonder that going to Dalhousie wouldn’t have been a good idea at all, as there were so many places lying unexplored in the region itself. We rode till we drained our fuel completely where in a traffic cop, who had stopped us earlier in the day to give us a challan receipt, came to our rescue by giving us some spare fuel and an awesome conversation about development projects in Dharamshala.
The trip had come to an end and I was taking so many wonderful memories back to Delhi. As I sat in the bus and closed my eyes, it all came back to me. The unexpected change in trip destinations, the restaurants having free Wi-Fi, the visit to the Dalai Lama temple, The rave, The verbal brawl with Raj (who was now snoring loudly!), The challenging bike rides and the girl with beautiful blue eyes who had somehow managed to keep my heart with herself. This was one trip I would definitely miss!

28th July, 2014
I checked the time, 5.45am! We had got down near Jahangir Puri metro station, as the bus sped its way to ISBT Kashmiri Gate. Raj’s house was a five minute walk from the metro station so I bid goodbye to him as left with his bag-pack. I waited for the metro station to open. A large crowd gathered around the station gate. The city was waking up to a busy Monday morning. It was time to get back into action!
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-- Ka-Sak


About the writer!
The writer known by a pen name, 'Ka-Sak' is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasizes on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated. 
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This is for the first time, a write-up by a guest. It was chosen appropriate for this blog, because of its 'straight from heart' content. www.gagansvaid.blogspot.in , appreciates such meaningful, life enriching write-up.