Snippets of the mind by Gagansvaid

Rashid follows an old man. From the old man's manners, Rashid picks up manners. The way he reacts, the old man; similarly this young boy reacts as closely as possible. Rashid doesn't critically follow him like a mirror image but draws in his mental picture, the appearance of the old man. The young boy talks to himself while walking the lane with little steps. He's getting noticed for following the man. This Rashid doesn't know. For, the boy is in the land of his makings. He murmurs, "How many decades, oh my God, how many uncountable years, he has walked these lanes...I come to this market rarely. My Baba is always seen here." Now, Rashid sits by near a kachori (Indian eatery) stall next to the lane where Abdul Baba goes through. Now, he sits alone other than the little crowd that's busy enjoying the kachori . He's alone, because his world was destined to Abdul Baba. Now, he was left to sit with his own self; unknown of other occurrences in th...

Magician's eyes, Colorful portrait, The manner she looks, dignified enough.  I lament naught, On losing her; I celebrate, for having known her. Magnetic, my patience; While attuned she was, To this holy spirit of love, I got to know, wasn't it for me, Still, I loved. Roads were blank, While I saw her appearing, Chirping in my silence, Her affectionate disposition towards me. I walkest alike, a caricature of love, That intensified it's holiness, whilst I thought of her. I sung songs, I heard them whistle, From long a distance, unto heart's intense being. A sole twinkle awakened in me, Lightening and dreams, That I witness today too, While I move, Ahead in the roads, Of smile and melancholy alike. Moving with dreams,  broken but aligned, With parallel bonds of hopes destined.

The best thing about life is that we know we are losing in one place. The funniest thing is that we still carry on doing that job. The only hope that pertains is, to get out of the loses. Hence forward a road towards victory. To comment on my city, is to comment on it's people, the linguistics, the aesthetics, the dreams of Delhi. Delhi being the capital of India, makes my comment on India as a whole. Not merely the Delhites- who live permanently here, but the Indians who reach Delhi to follow the race against time. The race to create an identity of oneself, to get what belongs to us. We get opportunities, but in metropolitan cities, such is Delhi. Income Tax Office(I.T.O), the office in general but known widely as a bridge followed by a road where it is located. The road that links East Delhi to the Central Delhi; is one of the busiest roads in Delhi. There's a bus stop where in every five minutes, develops a thunderous crowd. The D.T.C buses fill with passengers, few step...

Day-1 I walked and stood still, I was waiting for a bus to drive me back home. At an interval did I stop. I stood blank for a moment, as a pause to my walking. I glared with wide open eyes until I saw no bus in the vicinity of the passage that was visible. I carried forward with thoughts other than of bus, but the dreams. After reaching another bus stoppage, I found a bus criss-crossing me. I couldn't have asked for more. A blessing had been offered to me by the sun dazzling spirits that sensed to me, reached to me. I got into the bus and in the crowd of the bus seeking youth and old alike, I reached my home. In the meantime, I had dreamt with freshness, about almost everything that flew it's wings in my minds' personages while I walked past the bus stop's. Day-2 I stood like the other passengers who were my college friends. Well, many of them were familiar faces, whom I saw daily alongside me. The students who were waiting for their bus to drive through the bus s...

Love isn't about gifting precious diamonds. It's neither a flame for people to rest their lives upon. It's the essence of long dealt freedom. When the mind or heart isn't shy to express to the world it's very attraction. Whatever it feels, it easily expresses. Love the world and so does the world love you. The patches are green, the moisture in the air is softly drenching the cheeks of sweat. The walk maintains with the equilibrium in interest paving the traveler ahead. It's not that the road is very clear and smooth, it's about experimenting and the love of doing that. Blending the art craft to one's soul and transcending the beauty of nature into one's patient mind- transgresses the enormous textures to the real world from the artificial colours that occur. Such is the highness and glory of art. It emulsifies the artist with similar equations and enlightens every roadway and road past that we move and comrade with added notches of learning and pe...

An artistry imagery holds the guild to make perfection out of a raw thing. The unacceptable of the less done works, and over emphasis of one’s down pouring heart; gives to the world light to nurture and feel affection in and apart. Thine appearance of charm elongates, trustful incarnation of thy soul. The way you feel, you tend to show to the people around. For, they form the world out there and an audience to the artist’s craft. Songs of thine optimism and pessimism alike, make an innate picture of love and it’s dismissal. The space given to each thought carves out of you, an artist and such art adoring portrayal. Portrayal of life that is but there, the sun that glows and endears. The night that befalls and the trees respire the shades of silence and rescue. After, the attaining scorching heat that mumbles upon in deep frenzy and solitaire. Each emotion is equally felt and passed through one’s acceptance of life here and there. The opinion making is the one that is referred as when...

New tastes did occur, as the days moved closer, as one can say that the college days were coming to their closure or towards the destined treaty that exclaimed that one fine day the conclusion bells would ring. I had got a new taste for drinks like, drinking Gatorade, Fanta other than Pepsi. I had started liking the milk shakes; something I didn’t do long back. You can refer to the passing times as the real transformer. I have started gaining interests in varied activities. A man gets tastes as and when he lives through different emotions and times. Figuring the people, different mood or simply revisiting the settings of the progressing country. One moves around one’s country and nears about knowing the texture, the composition of what rings the hearts of people, the minds of people