Showing posts from November, 2014

Love, forever!

Heart breaks but to say,
That I had loved you,
All the way!

Not a thought,
had come to me,
that you would,
one day,
go away from me.

Times have passed by,
years have compassed;
yet, new people I met,
your face is still to me,
an auspicious beauty,
reflection of love for me.
A blessing that casts,
being sorry for those days.
Yet, we meet and we smile,
the past wasn't all that bad.

A journey again,
of friendship that is,
all the same.
She knows it,
how to live without him;
he knows, she waits,
but, he doesn't any longer,
go that very mile.

"They remain, where peace is,
to praise one's being,
and be glad of that person's,
heartily smile.

Their story was magic,
written with love,
on the sands of time.

As they say, sometimes,
being far is the only peace."
Gagandeep Singh Vaid


Many a times in my life, I wonder where lies my path; or for that matter how close or far my place is? Well, when these thoughts come to me, then I do not think regarding how much would I earn money or fame. It comes to me, asking me where that sweet place is, which I can call my own and which gives me an individuality. Saying this, I would also add that it comes with time. And I feel it coming to me, or occurring to me;  my sphere of peace, as walks by this time.

All I am to do is to let it come to me, and as it comes, I would nourish it as a stem growing towards the branch that would be my individuality or my sense of being. I long to see that day, and I know this journey that takes me towards my peace, is all that I would remember in my embers of thoughtfulness. Yeah as they say, "Challenges are which make life interesting, and overcoming them is what makes life fruitful." 

Looking forward towards my dream.

Gagandeep Singh Vai…

Could you answer me?

I wonder, as I feel that why are these people around me, of this much importance for me? I ask myself that will they, ever stand for me when I am there in the lowliest phase of my life? When I would be in my greatest of all falls, would these people stand by me or give me shelter?

I often ask myself, why do I even believe in them, for love and affection just why? Am I so much deprived of love myself that I have to seek their presence around me, to give me peace of mind and soul? Who am I, and what is my identity I wonder. Why am I running in this world, for whom am I running? Wait, am I running for those people for whom feelings are nothing, or for whom feelings change now and then, or for whom someone's inability to do a certain task makes that person a butt of jokes and mockery? Why do I even talk to these people, is it because in order to live in this world, I am to talk to them, singing the carols of togetherness. Singing that togetherness is the only harmony.

I get my answer…

Guest blog by Kasak.

About the writer!
The writer known by a pen name, Kasak is a fitness freak, who does modelling and in his words, he is someone who, "emphasises on all experiences in life". He likes to travel and it is music that keeps him motivated. 
Credits: The song in this story, 
"Chahaten Dhoka hain
Meri Hasraton Ke aage.." has been taken from the band, AAG.
Youtube link, for the song;

Nobody's worth living for.. (Part-1)

“Your performance starts in a minute! Are you ready?” The compere asks him in his usually tensed demeanor. He looks up. His eyes are red and dry. At the first glance you see him; it becomes obvious that he is an insomniac. The dark circles cover a huge portion of his chiseled face. He is almost expression less. He gulps his half of n…

On faces and disposition 3.) Instrumental awakening.

I was a kid then, that everyday I had to go to the market to buy either my favourite 5 star chocolate or mangobite toffee. Like any other day, I went to market that day too. As I entered the general store, I greeted an old man, who was also the owner of the shop. I picked up items I were to buy and I had to pay fifteen rupees which I calculated in my mind, so I gave him a twenty rupees note. In return he gave me a ten rupees note. For a moment, I thought, if he had given me a discount, for being his regular customer. So, I happily left his shop, on the thought of being a special customer to him. But, althroughout my walk back home, I kept on thinking as to why did I not ask the man, on why he was charging five rupees lesser from me.

After much a thought, and after coming halfway the distance away, I turned back to his shop. I greeted the old man once again, and this time I returned him the ten rupees note that he gave me. He asked, what I was up to, and I told him that he had by mist…

On faces and disposition. 2.)

Eyes of this little girl, who came to our house years back, when she came from her village, with her family. They were looking for work, whence they came. Few days later the mother worked as a maid in a household, whereas the father as a laborer, at the construction site. One day, her mother visited our place, and asked for work; this time, not for herself but for her little girl.

My mother was surprised to see this little girl, holding her mother's fingers; when her mother took her along to different houses in the locality, finding work for her daughter. My mother asked her to stay at our house, and found the gleaming eyes of the little girls' mother greet her yet again, in thanksgiving for my mother's agreement to employ her, and yes; that meant money at the end of every month to the lady, for her daughter's efforts. While, the girl went on to hide her face, moving behind her mother. She was scared, all I could see on her face and her disposition.

That was a day, I …

Few broken patches.

Note: Few things in life never seem sorted.  At times, life is so confusing.  Maybe, because we don't want to settle things, or to somewhere compromise.  So, we end up not only hurting ourselves, but also, hurting people attached with us. -------------------------------------------------------------
Few broken patches.
It was light, in that day;
When they talked, described their thoughts, to each other, their ways.
As years of trust, of belongingness had been, they knew, they were there- for each other, everyday.
Still, they fought that moment, as her husband’s style had been, that he was weak at heart, that he had been like that always. When, he would let others, do him bad, and still would let it. How could she let it be, when he hurt himself,  she was hurt too in degree.
Weak as he had been, he fought with her on no matter- she little deserved it,  and he went away. She felt too bad, but it was- what she always did. Whenever, he little understood- what her point was, what she had…

Forging territories!

Your friend, your dream,
Take care of them, and gleam.
Who comes next, won’t matter,
As much as the love,
of your friends already by your side.

For who comes to you today,
not to forget, those who were with you,
New men, people come to you,
you talk to them, you like them,
as they like you.

Just to say, forge new links,
but don’t forget your best link,
your territory, your past dreams,
your people.
For they will always be,
as special and important to you,
as you are to them.
Gagandeep Singh Vaid

On faces and disposition. 1.)

How many days have passed by, that I look at them. It's not about days now, but all over my life till today; I have found the men who guard this colony where I live, right there on time for their duty. It is night or it is day, they have worshipped their job, their work over everything else.

In the summer season, I find them sitting under the shade of the tree; and having an earthen-pot placed next to their seat, from where they can drink cold water, amidst the scorching blaze of the winds. In winters, I find them in sweaters and jackets, putting a muffler round their necks, and covering their heads; oh, how cold it gets to be. 
In the early morning at five, when I would go to the Gurudwara, they would be awake, opening the main gate for me, and with smiling faces give a lovely start to my day. In my return back home I would seldom share the Prasad with them, and it always felt so great, a feeling to be. I remember, whence in childhood; they would come to our home, to take a jug …

About a journey!

This point,
this very point.
He wakes up,
from the dream,
that had been-
upon him, enshrined!

It was not,
what he would,
call for himself,
a shade, to let-
his morals down!

Dampness was,
even a chance,
an opportunity now;
that it had come to him.
It seemed above all negativity,
For, it was auspicious.
In a way, it was-
a reflection of self;
that, the real world,
had met his-
fantasy sped gaze.
It was peace,
peace after long-
a time that had stretched.
Now, an awakening,
to him did prolong.

The skies were clear,
thoughts were confident,
his reality had been-
his answer to his questions.
Questions, that were-
asked, and asked in tones,
resplendent, and pure.
Only if those knew,
that, imagery and the real,
were different connotations.

When someone tried,
to explain it to him;
he used to be silent then,
but he knew, it would come,
what he was waiting for.
So, he followed his instincts,
to let the lessons come his way.

Lessons of life, no one could deny.

Many men came,
who passed his gaze…

Love is togetherness.

Summers, oh shine;
oh, beauty sublime.
Your nature, so special,
a place in heart dwelled.

The descriptions,
the essence of the breeze,
it all touches the intense,
of one's being.

Fruits, oh nature;
beautifully you dress,
love in every hue,
you bless forth to feel.

As you leave,
and the winters come.
Every breeze kisses,
as it flashes by the dreams,
of the earlier transitions,
when summers went,
leaving space for winters,
to dine. From t-shirts,
now to sweaters and coats,
oh born fire I see,
as the street I walk.

Mornings so compose,
grab me enough, that I feel-
my presence, my every footstep.
Chill attires its disposition-
so grave, that it brings smile,
as peace resides. In every walk,
a chat with self builds,
to acknowledge, the leaves,
the shelter of the trees,
as we walk the parks.

Every passer-by, is a friend-
this chilly season. For,
the seasons are same-
for everyone. Yet, a lesson-
for life is taught, that nature-
never differences with its love.
It's how we humans cr…

Where will you find her?

Heart is wishful, but to say,
she deserves respect,
don't add on to her dismay.

The day starts later for you,
It starts earlier for her;
She prepares the children,
for the school, whilst sun rises.
Not because its' her work,
but the reason is, she loves.
Loves her family, her children.

Do not fright her,
if you find something out of order.
Bring a smile to her face,
And your heart will also smile.
A day shall be as lively,
as a childhood dream once,
you had seen, oh 'twas fantasy,
but reality can be a gem too,
only if you wish it to be.

In your hands, is this today.
You make it adorned with goodness,
or you make it an evil essence,
it's in your hands, this today.

When he left her, alone..

Do, whatever you please the best,
but wait; you will realise it now or later,
that true happiness was to walk with her,
and not to leave her all alone,
when she was waiting for you..
to hold her hand, when she needed you.
She needed you, not because otherwise,
she couldn't have wal…

towards glee.

Seldom, the eyes water.
To read my poems,
I remember every situation,
Every time that I wrote,
Every time that I prayed.

A lot was there in my heart,
I had wishes to say it all,
Yet, music had its own blend,
It's own tone, that went up,
that went down, as emotions.
Sometimes, all glitter 'twas,
Sometimes, array of dismay.
What was mine, what was not,
was just an illusionary substance;
In me, my heart; a million dreams,
a lot to express, a lot to feel.
Yet alone, everyone had-
their own a journey, it was how-
life came, and I accepted it.

To stand at the shore,
to witness the sea waves prolong.
Whether love was like that,
that it came, and didn't return,
from where it came- like the waves;
it would be such a beautiful dream.
Well, in life; we never know,
what tomorrow has in store.
Only what we know is that-
there is love in every walk,
that we pass or our life takes along.

In this limited time, we are here,
let's not be forgotten in our grief,
but transcend all the har…

a chat with my love....

murmurs of my dreams,
do enchant within- and outward of my presence.
i am not a distant bird- to fly in an unknown territory. i am yet a man in love, and i know, it’s not meant- for only this day, but forever. i know, this love is as lively- as the essence of the fresh breeze.
for, whenever my love, be ever pondered about; it would be as priceless, as a divine state of mind. when, a lot to dream of, a lot to be proud of-  strikes the mind.

those days, had their own- such orient and smile. that a lot many murmurs, combine even today, when their bells ring, and  the lyres of love rhyme. the first face is of those days, where enough images stand, to greet me, as i cherish them.
a mile to walk, or a mile to run, it is the pleasant feeling that tones, to bring my faith in goodness, ever beautiful and gleaming back. oh, maybe i had lost it, but it is, still there in me; and i am glad, that my innocence still remains in me.
gagandeep singh vaid

a mark of respect

someone's love,
someone's eyes; someone's toil, someone's sacrifice.
love is behind the every act,  every slice of life. how you wonder, for what is honesty- and, what stands in malign.
every man's heart, has a dream that bears, little wishes that sprout, wishes that appear; to reach for the skies, life's magical inward portrayal.
a salute casts, respect endears. well, this life is won, as every endeavour steers.         -------------------------------
gagandeep singh vaid

yesterday, today and tomorrow..

hurts, oh hurts,
every broken dream.
surfs and sights,
life's every bend,
be it a cheer or,
a mark of grief.
what is ever hidden?
for reality of life blooms,
with the truth.

when a drop,
when a wink;
doesn't but erase,
the grief of the past,
for times lived once,
forever do last,
be it for the future date to reflect,
or in the present,
a blink of yesterday does surpass.

few call it experience,
others call it one's perspective,
of the world.

gagandeep singh vaid

care by mother earth.

no words are known,
when love is but born.
in the impressions,
and the essence;
of the world so blessed.

cats and dogs play on the ground,
they play as children in glory,
expressing their love and longing,
to converse with their mother earth.

on the ground you see,
flowers bloom with the seeds.
the leaves, the branches,
and the trees, when life enables
with consistency.

dearest self!

a longing to meet thee,
oh, my artistic soul;
a move to contemplate the remaining's,
of the love within my heart.
for, it is my basis of life,
that i don't want to part.

wish me, my dearest beauty,
your being is as amiable,
as to a man, his dream is;
in the similar lines, your presence,
means to me glitter and warmth.

oh dearest heart, walk with me,
along my passage,
my journey that awaits me.

gagandeep singh vaid

a dream of love

his eyes,
his son's dreams.
how he wishes,
for his child to be good in health.

how this man works,
even harder, to earn his bread.
how this man listens,
to whatever the world asks him.

there is a heart, that hurts;
there is a dream that fades,
with this world, a lot is lost.
someone's smile, whereas,
someone's peace is stolen.

it is all related,
it is starting and ending;
with people only,
at either sides;
a game is played,
this instrument called life.

someone is as rich,
someone is poor..
someone in terms of money,
someone in terms of values.

it is, all life is like,
in this way of the world.
that we all are learners,
as we all are in this journey.
we seldom hurt people,
and get hurt likewise.

sometimes, we make a sacrifice,
whereas sometimes we sit on others' toil.
all we need to do is to give it a thought,
to give a chance to every other being.

well, to go without touching a soul,
with love and affection is to be,
a spirit unknown of its presence,
and its spellbound…

His eyes, loyal..

His eyes loyal, His wishes little, His dreams not many, Two times meals- that is all.
He works for hours, Under a man- for a man; who takes away the profit, makes him do all work. Yet, he abuses him to go, to leave, when almost- all work is but done.
It hurts as much to see, what he goes through; but doesn’t want to show, for his life, and its reality, bites him every moment- still, he has a hope. A hope to find work, the next day. His work, isn’t appreciated, although- people ask for his work, the most,
with hours of labour, hours of midnight oils he burns- Yet, the mischief done is put, unto him by his master, who is good enough in power, unlike him.
It would be about another day, a newer conflict with life; when a new employer, would do him the same; to his already torn off heart- more bullets would be shot at- because that is the way of the world, the society in general.
What to say, what not to say, Heart to self does whisper. Why were you born here, when no one is yours ever? P…

The last sail~

Loneliness, Isn’t a bad idea. Loneliness, Is a virtue.
Life is as easy, being yourself- when you live, for yourself- and your dreams.
Many, a people- won’t agree to this. But, the way you’re, isn’t always meant- to be, of a loser. That, you win- with giving up at times. When, it’s not meant for you, It is alright to let it go.
It hurts, but for a little time, for much time, it gives- enough peace and relief. Relief, over the fact who you’re, when being yourself is greatest.
No one, to long for- No one, to ask for- but to live your life, in your very way.
At the end, to heart- the mind says, that- yes, it’s not easy, but it is for the good.
So, let it breeze into- your soul that looks at you, with open eyes, and the- oceanic dreams deep within. Whatever life lived was, a holy past.  Now what to appear, is a life full of stars- stars that shine, that twinkle- and celebrate one’s love; the love with self and dreams, that is left in our walk to be.
Gagandeep Singh Vaid

A dream, A flair.

Her kiss was as loyal, as her heart was for him. When her eyes said it all, as he heard her, in her saying.
Few truths of life- few dreams could only, but meet- where no one else, had a say- or had known what to say.
There was silence, the peace they shared; when the world around them, was as fierce, and harming, they were along, there; sitting and enchanting, for bliss to fall and lighten, every day with love, and glory. They had long dreams, until, it was the parting, of their seamless love story. The times, had passed by, The distance had been long- still that touch, the vibes- steered with the days,  in memories, in far sight- of the dreams so loyal. When life was a gift, a magical portrayal,  to be. 
Dreams were dreams, that no one could but erase.

being who she is. ;)

a person as beautiful-
a person as happy- being who she is.
happy in her ways, to live life-
the way she imagines goodness,
to be in this world. when no harm, 
can strike off her faith, in love and harmony,
but every day with as much warmth, she wishes,
the morning with as much flair, and compose-
that the winds rub her eyes, and greet her, likewise,
with the freshness and vibrancy, of a morning so lively. 
she's a lover of beauty and humanity.


Dreams, the magical instruments. Your sight, is your understanding, of this world.
Now how can, someone take away- all of your dreams, all your sight of this world from you?
You know, what happens? Umm.. you quite well know that. When your heart breaks, It is all about that.
To lose,  a fantasy is one thing. To lose, yourself, your dream; is the greatest thing.
That moment, when you see yourself, as a loser. Loser, you; for being who you are.
Many-many a times, For the good you had- and the bad your good was made to be.
When you deserved it, the least; when you deserved, the best, but you don’t get even, near to what you deserve. Rather, it is the opposite, that you get, in that time.
Does it really mean, that you are a loser? Does it really mean, the world is better, than you?
Even if it is better, does it matter to you?
If it does, then why?  Who are they? Do they define, some level; that all of us, have to reach? Who are they?
For that matter, whoever they are? The people who mock…

True love!

Every moment,  they had a thought.  Every moment, I thought why, they thought so much?
They talked this, they talked that. Unhappy still, Wealthy brats. Whisky, oh wine, oh dance, oh parties; oh victory, oh money;
where is the peace, the day sunny?
Definition of victory, lies in your path- to make more name, to enjoy the fame; but where is peace, I look for that.
A child lives truly, nothing is there that makes one tensed. She can sense beauty, in the raindrops that  touch her eyes, her face. When colours of flowers festoon enough love, in her heart, she’s a child, the happiest being there.
Amongst the many, many men and women; who dream of success, while forgetting the power, of silence and one’s peace. This girl doesn’t belong, to them, their company. For, she’s innocent,  innocent as a flower,  pleasant as the garden breeze. To her, her silence, and her peace are foremost, the joys- in her toys, in her fairy dreams, in her magical sight of the world, that never in reality is. She’s …