Love.Live.Life

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.