Love.Live.Life

Blue at the top and the green around the bottom, meet together at the end of the long naked road. Unknown of the distance and unaware of the destination. The fields teased us for such a wideness could be found in the city. The roads were hard to be figured out. Every face was a stranger and use of intelligence could lead into a danger. The wheel which whirls on the static track has rolled to the north but never to the other end of the country. The bottom of the country has always had a part in my heart. From the eyes snatching nature, to the beauty in the people. And an urge of travel which made us crawl where the heart says.   Somewhere deep inside being in our country, we felt lost. But then we found it all to be scripted, what made us confused and scratch our head was the text and the language the people spoke encrypted.  Unplanned not trip but a journey from the heart of one state to another. The situation which we targeted to was the place known by a moun...

Resides in the arms of culture, with religion making it colourful on every edge of the fence. The many places you go, the many faces you see, with innocence in welcome, variety conceals with the difficulty in the language. Even being a rainbow of culture, religion and languages every place feels like home. Where, sports and games are not few persons investment or interest, rather whole nation involves along with the God.  Standing tall, stretched long for justice, to clean the impurity of truthiness, we stand reputed. Somewhere below those belts, under those tables, we fall corrupted.  Feminism was never a point to discuss since our God taught us what a female resist within her. The Sad part is where she is called Laxmi, on another hand she is a piece of flesh for some He's, who sometimes kill them nameless or somewhere their name is hidden under the melted wax. Despite being all happening within, how far we may fall divided when necessary we also are united....

Even when the sense and the maturity did not peak from the soil, the feeling is at the stature for the one whom we call a friend. Stepping out from that bondage of religion, its humanity which brings everyone together.  Friendship is a thread, in a flow, it does break sometimes from between. The knot which is been tied to join it again is not an obstacle in a relationship, rather it is been tied to make that relationship stronger than the previous one so that it does not break again. These are our electives and we stay as we want with them. Without any examination, where humour collides and the laugh can't hide and we find that the one is always on our side. They never met to the condition of mother and father hardly knew them.  Some remain stable all through the life and some were new to our hive, what changed was that corn to gold with ascending age. Today when we meet the old ones we realise our lifestyle.  Every point of our life we meet some one. The ...

Race, which was crawled yet no end met.  What happened was fun for that one. The day arrived, disguised in beauty with shy,  the presence which happened to be small in quiet.  Alone within those walls, opening the windows of silence and shy,  the door of words was shut tight.  The day, initial was look and the night, everything it took. The sun was brighter than before so the moon was lighter, therefore.  When the sun sleeps and the moon was about to rise  there was a surprise, the presence of feel was magically derived. Scribbling happened soon with the colour of love in the place of a letter for a moon. The words were more in those books, yet happy with looks,  the praise to the fortune which way it took. The melted days showed me the mirror, what I do for others came to me similar,  those scribbled when red the feel in those words was to heart, familiar.  The miscommunication created a distanc...

It's been late, but anyways its better to be late than never. Sweaty palms, the water beads appear on the forehead. Draught in the thoughts, the words disappeared even after scribbling down on the paper, while writing for HIM. No, it is not a fear or might be a bit of it dissolved in the essence of HIS love, hidden. Which is never seen in HIS words and never felt with that expressions. Secretive with HIS thoughts, so we have to be cautious every time with HIM. HIS role fluctuates with the situations. There is always HER  love essence all around, which is natural and HE even being doing many things or everything never seen appreciated.  HE is harsh with words, loud with action but still a silent person. HIS work is like that silent worker who keeps on working and working never been noticed. Engrossed with HIS own activity pressure and workload. Surrounded even with all this HE never let us know a single hint that what's going on within HIM. Like a silent student who eve...

First shower, when the drops embracing the gravity, dropped flat dissolving with the soil. The soil changes its shade with the frequency of the drops. The air which was dusty wind till now converts into aroma, fragrance, which I wish I could store in empty jars, the fragrance which being mild have the power to kill many perfumes. Empty streets with parked vehicles, with those dripping trees, every drop shines in it trueness in those street lights. The season wearing different clothes. The mercury shrinks, as the count of showers increase, the layers of coolness is added. The shades of sky get heavier, with that greenery taking uproot even in unwanted places, unexpectedly. There are many memories with this seasonal change with a sense and remembrance of smell. Every old thing is been evaporated with burning summer and there is a new view all around.  I never liked crawling the path to school (nor to college) but the reason which made me walk were those new things, which I ...

The wheels whirl from that six-way lane to hairpin turn. The realisation was when we rose against the gravity, for those curve on single track. The Mercury was dropped hidden below in minus. Soon, we could see the earth below us, was partially covered by the white sheet. We were the inhabitants of where the land of liquid meets those cloud when looked ahead out of the reach of eyes. For us, the frozen drops that came down to us were something like magic. From top to bottom, from left to right everything was covered with white, some dusty white. Those cautious step placed one at a time. For days the vision was blurred, the defect was not in eyes, but it was in the surrounding which had the effect of snow. Within that fog, there was something hidden which revealed with the exit, that, the sun do know this place and not only that wild breeze but the gentle air did come with the fragrance- fragrance of natural beauty.  Those impression many still left alone unknown ...

Even before the brightest sphere in the universe rise, she stood before him wise. Without any gadget, habitual to her subconscious. Slow with her crawls, she completes the chores, without our knowledge all day long. She never got a leave never did she asked one. Neither on those second or fourth nor at the ends of weeks, none on those with those bank holidays. Never even when she broke, healthy.  She had a magic, power which is concealed deep within the word 'MAA'. The only name, which came out with fear, with a concern, first of all, the only name in every hunt. She survived hard for us and has been derived out of those gods and goddess, clone to us. Simpler with looks, but intelligent beyond those tonnes of books. Still innocent for that technicality. Despite modern remedies, she still has those 'nuskhe' for initial and to surprise they though work.  She, the most easier to convince, the one who hide our mischiefs. The one who can divide, among several a...

#Simply Gifted (Memories) #Boxes The far the eye catches the view of sky,  Welded to roads with no joint. Silent path with soundless footsteps. The five of us, fingers of the same hand, Working on a task. Everyone else around us were engrossed in their dream with all their concentration.  Hidden from the anger of sun in clam and serene night. This night departed forever, Then lost in the stack of memories. The shortest night with dreams floats in open eyes. Few in their fantasies, unaware of our ludic world. Dreams of never ending the night, with friendship lasting with each one's last breath.  Our work was within four walls but when we stepped out with an empty mind on empty streets jewelled with streetlights.  It was a game with two phases and a door in between.

The sky was clear, the moon was shy, looking at the track which was paved with the glittering ride. The distance the eyes rolled where those tail light teasing us, for making us running late of time. Our destination was all through the office way, and working was out for that day.  Calculating the matrix of those boxes and bottles with some scrambled eggs waiting for the one with a broken leg, outside the Concentrix. The time when the reality said good night, left was the only place for the dreamers some with the close and some with open sight. We had a wide open sky for the roof, the birds have chosen their path, the stars have chosen their sky, time was for us to pick our clouds. There were many to accompany us with wheels, but they were not with us.  The roads and those paths were alone but unlike morning they were not lazy. Street light, some wrecked some blind decorated that lonely midnight streets, roads and highway beautifully bright. The confusion was ...

Five years of darkness, of that terrible, horrified, inhuman actions. The brains which were conquered by lust, captured with those human demonic thoughts. The night on Sixteenth of December. When the whole country was busy thinking, dreaming, discussing the new year ave. There was an angel, forlorn, with her sense, her motions, fighting for her breath. Unfortunately, unexpected, her breath her flesh evaporated in the smoke with those flames.  Even the devil spirit might get fright by what happened on that night. Even thinking about it create a draught in my mind. The incident happened in the capital of our country, out of the cops voluntary.  Among that huge crowd, I was also the one in the locality with the locals, who crawled the distance with that burning thread and melting wax dripping on the figures. Unaware, so unintelligent and without a single ray of knowledge of what it was? For whom it was? It took time for the right thing to happen, but so late. It's be...

A walk on the lazy road. What showed the path was the dumbed stood wrecked street-light. Scenes, emotions and feeling were scattered finding their way in different directions few meters before the temple.  The initial warm wash was bit surprising, the naked legs in that freezing temperature on chilled marble reminded the true spirituality, that feel was of few steps,  after that, it was a senseless walk.  The image after few crawls didn't fade from mind and the glitter from eyes. Although it was not the natural beauty but the human constructed beauty for spiritual desire. The temple was close, yet at the distance to cover. It stood, strict and hard in between on that waving liquid, it taught me of standing calm and hard on those unstable days.  Staring the most beautiful lights of my life, the night when the moon for his presence with clouds had a fight. The purest form of gold, best then ornamented, which made the stars and moon shy. The path w...

The wheels remembered the path, the taste, the aroma and people around there, were acquainted. The taste in those pots remained same but with a lemon twist. The serving and the members had a slight change than the initial. The count increased for squeezing those sliced lemons but no salt on the nose this time. The tracks which played in the atmosphere added a different texture to the shade of our thoughts, it was not a party, not a celebration, but a get together of our souls, of a relationship, a friendship with those one-time sips. Those whom we missed the previous time, this time they added a flavour, in those pipes and on those empty glasses. It was beyond everything, and without these fellows, it was hard to ever get such thing. We repeated the location, the road because in the previous frame everyone did not fit. The initial was good but the repetition was the best, it's not the last or the least. We will crawl on that path with those loaded seats since we are the b...

They hit, hit it hard, the piece fell down from up, from the sides. I thought they broke it and yes they did. It was out of my understanding not out of my vision I could see every piece accepting the gravity and the light particles embracing the air. They splashed the wet, heavy, hard on the walls up and on the side again. I still can't understand, but I thought. They applied something on the old colour and removed the old shade when the wet was dried they rubbed it. I still can't understand it, until, they applied the new, different texture and then I understood it, related it, related to life, to learning to forget old and accept new. It was similar to the mind, for those wrecked, dull, unwanted thoughts. The regrets the mistakes are the only memories which we have, it's good to have them but not to shed, just to learn. Your life will change by the context of your life and not by the content of your life. You can change your context, by the rub, harsh, hard t...

Racing the rotation of wheels. Making it early, to be safe from the rays of that raised temperature, a thick hide from the sun. Yet, we were running late. Hunger striking hard in the middle of the way, where the maximum distance was yet to be measured.  The far the eyes went was the sky welded without any joint with water.  The blue hue of the sky reflected sharp on the water. But the shade was darker when we got in. Shoes stuffed tight but were placed right. Naked feet making the impression by disturbing the sand.  The initial of letting the feet taste water was changed with a spark. The sand looked prettier when it was beneath the feet but not when you were beneath it, with your clothes. Even not when it becomes hard to dust it out from the skin and dripping clothes. The dive, the fight with those waves revealed strong. The buds, cells were flavoured salty. The impression of the feet was blown away as that of many others. The unintelligent...

Strong views, out of the box to be understood, his brain run faster than his beats. Heavy hands, skillfully making the art lighter, flashing thoughts making creativity brighter. A posture of bulk yet to be converted to a hulk. A stone in the water which looks wet only from the outside but many times drops pierce him within. A true louts-eater. Doing the same thing won't change anything but doing it in a different way sometimes might change your world.  Same place, with same bees buzzing around yet it changed something within me.   The drop of water in his eyes had a feel for us, they were no crocodile tears but the devil's shed. Then I realised, that you should shed some tear and see how many hands come to wipe them. I never believed in the first impression is the last impression because a person can't play all his card at once. Life is a game which human play according to a situation. An array which we have formed a year ago, begin scattered with an unaware s...

Squeezed lemon with some salt on the nose and on upper lips completing the final round. Carefully separating the snake fights posture pipes and to make others believe that your mind is still in your control. A smile shines out through that smokey glass, laughter becomes a part to be shared and not enjoyed alone. Fights for songs to be played, which are recent on our mind. With each other, we are, the one which we have never been but always wanted to be. Without whom I try to live unknown to everyone even knowing, although we are all different like the weathers but we are only complete with each other.   Life is what I hunt for every time, the only fear I have is of existing and surviving, but I want to live  Whether a person goes to a temple or to a bar all he does is to find a larger slice of life.  My thoughts may be wrong, seems to be harsh but they are true. A day before the word unsuccessful pointed sharply in my eyes, it was what I deserved....

Different shades, difficult to understand,  some pretty, some dark, some light,  but they never fade.  Life is white with simplicity and black with pain sorrow  for those who have their brain's narrow. It's harder but life is beyond monochrome,  with full of colour to different mood who have their mind's broader. Not for just this day rather but for a whole. The feel for colours reflects on that face with that smile.  The roar a pleasure the colour is just an excuse,  it is the touch of our loved ones and they make this day use. The significance sings high victory on that lie. The flames make the wishes fly and  the smoke makes them reach the sky. Believe is what have kept it alive. For some, it is beyond those colour a story of pride, a day so thin but those memories stay wide  till colours escape the skin May this day shower the colour all your life  Wish you all a Happy Holi...

Every morning, sometimes dawn begin by HER wake up call, disturbing sleep, dreams but that voice, never hurt those eardrums. Realise , that not just our day but the life which we pretend to be ours is a gift of HER to us. Smiling at us in our cry even her pain of the most special day. First person to feed when we are unaware of the relativities of life, through that cord. First who showed the right way to care even with the wrong one, love with a passion to even those haters, love even on the other side of the break, the dare to share everything equally among everyone, the one who shed pain of our through HER eyes. As we come up the HER is added with ‘s’, we had many of them with variety in relations. Each relation was important and taught us something beyond what we learned through flipping those pages. The scream on every single cut-hit, scare or hurt was of  SHE  never of HE. We always complained that we never understood HER but it is things, situations, talks...

Whenever I hear your name's bellow, it washes me out with a blow, my heart race hard, by just your one glance with a mere dance, My every breath is only for you. The regret of not being with you, but glee of reflection in you. Could something be so fine than a Love of mine? Love of mine is as unique as you are to me, it cannot be described and could never be understood. Can’t find out how it happened? A strong bond, but a weak at the same time, on another side, do not know what is it? what should it be called? Others call it LOVE, I do not have any synonyms for it because I do not think it’s love, it is more than anything and beyond everything. I know you cannot understand it, you cannot realise it. I don’t want you to accept it but just keep it, in your stack. You might come across many like me, they even might love you more than me,  but they cannot love you like me. You will understand once it is in your mind’s...

Some never understood, some never got, some never thought of it. Some always shared it, some never cared it. Some died for it, some killed. Some trusted wholeheartedly, some never believed it. It got a fame but never a reputed name. Even being so infamous everyone wants to be famous with it.  It is love. Love an essential way of living a life, not a part of a life but the way of living. Which unknowingly plays an important role in one’s life. The love when we want it, while having it and after losing it. It's more than what we see, think and experience, sometimes more than what we feel, divine to have, proud to say in a pleasure way.   Love groom's one, it creates a person better from good. The realisation for some and responsibility of one. Love couldn't be same for everyone. Some feel it absently in the presence of one. Some feel it in those looks, smile and from that hidden stare. Some feel it in those silly talks which means a lot. Some for those lon...

India shares its border with seven nations, of which one I stepped. The walk was a kilometre, on the straight, stretched, Grand Trunk Road. The rows divided us by gender, with a formal security check. The deeper I walked on that road the more secure it felt by looking at those super steel iron mans cast all around.  The surrounding changed the mood and the taste. Few meters away was the end point of my country but decades ago something initiated there. There were the people sitting on the other side of the gate with a different identity, different colour of religion on their flag.  What surprised me is the consistency of love, passion and energy for past fifty-nine years on every evening. They never took that level down there energy is the audience which has still kept the ceremony alive.  It was strange but true, that for the first time I wished I was of the opposite sex, so even I would have run hard holding the tricolour and danced gracefully on those n...

A city of memories, histories (some created and some yet to be). Pure as name ‘Amritsar’. Legends were born unknown and are immortals in the stack. History recalls their sacrifices. The fields stretched beyond the vision, a beautiful texture from green to blue to many in the atmosphere. A picture perfect collage city. People attire in helpful,  the personality that inspires and energise, the turban reminds of those forwarded jokes.   A queue of destination to be visited among which was ‘the bagh’. We rode a short distance in a running disco with those typical Punjabi songs, which couldn't be understood then and can’t be stopped sharing now. But the dance and songs were not the attention seeker for the outsiders rather the painting on the bus. We switched from modern to vintage wheels even in that developing surrounding. The wheels turned to a short walk on the street stretched till the temple but our halt was  ‘the bagh’. Until now it was ‘we’ but as I came nea...

We don't select our family but there are some stupids whom we select and even there are selectively available to like-minded. A group can be captured in a single snap of eye. Regardless of how different we are programmed but we are compiled together. We share a bond, not just one-to-one but one-to-all. We are making the bond stronger with the events which we celebrate among ourselves. Thoughts are minor in front of those unexpected and surprising actions when it happens around us. Magical unbiased relation. A day of candles on the cake which little reached our stomach and rest was for the face. Gratulation, preparation from past couple of days. The celebration was sweet and simple like every one of us. The drive from college to the ‘cake-cutting-spot', from the taste of the cake till the paste on the face. Yet we were absent with many things but the importance was the presence of everyone which completed everything.

A journey with known yet unaware destinations. A house which kept on running with some different halts all through the way. Traveller few are known some unknown. No no, not strangers yet unknown, not mine but yet to be known. Love, hate, tease-mate, some care and everything to be share, aware yet unaware. Things are unusual, words are unsaid, feeling unexpressed and the movements of dare. We had a way with different destinations on various days. With some fun and bore, some fights and few nights of the snore, with all this we all came close, more. Talks were sharper than those, hairpin turn road. Surprise experiences wild adventure. Boozing darks with hanging over days. The entry in that showering snow exit with those ‘will-be-remembered’ footsteps.The dance revealed, concealed signature step of everyone. Don't know what to call? How to express? Everything was new for us in those, decade old road, path & places. Before this journey majority of us lived in ob...