Saturday, December 19, 2009


I love to fly kites...Kites are one of the few things that depict life so aptly...In a blank space, a vulnerable piece of paper is high as it starts looking like a star dwelling in the light of sun...There are so many kites flying ...people have got the threads that are controlling them...making them to go more upwards...As they draw the string; it swings up-ward and then like a unwilling child, it starts coming into its own position...But wind starts caressing it like a mother and pushes it to go upwards...And suddenly it starts lifting..But the man is not satisfied by the current height of its ‘kites’...he draws the thread again and again until it starts flying at the highest position...And see, how serious kite looks at the highest position...It is ups and downs...But has it not lost its charm ???

Thursday, December 17, 2009


My whole day is so busy now a day that I hardly find any time to open my Lap-top. Life seems like set of repetitive incidents disciplined by certain constraints. Formal wear + tie, black shoes, daily savings, fixed timings of lunch, break-fast and dinner; this is what I am doing and trying best to adapt myself in this changed environment... You wish it for or not...but here the atmosphere is such as you are forced to follow the quote “Early to sleep and early to rise”. One thing I would accept that my life seems more systematic and predetermined but it also feels as mechanical.  Well, I am a trainee who is learning OLQs (officer like qualities) who would be an Officer after 20 weeks.  However Creative works are catalyzed in a free environment where your instincts and impulses could flow in an entropic way...But whatever it is is all our choices that we make in our life... Life is a bounded and vaguely partitioned periphery where we need to have discrete steps with compromised attitude. 

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Religion; My Thoughts

It might appear you as a blasphemous post...So please read it at your own risk...It is just my (Agnostic)opinion at this moment which might be changed over the time...

Bertrand Russell says that By self interest Man has become gregarious, but in instinct he has remained to a great extent solitary...these two contradictory characteristics are optimized and glued by the religion...To an extent religion unites in a group...An intelligent technique to face the uncertainty and unpredictability of life...

Recently I was reading the novel “Lajja” by Taslima Nasrinn...A question suddenly came into my mind...Has not religion divided, brought carnage and disaster than united us? For centuries we have been fighting over religion...Some on the name of protecting their religion; some on the name of expanding their religion...
If everything in your life is certain, there would be no need of “God”. But probability of events and incidents has led us to think about some supernatural and mysterious existence (And I don’t say it does not exist; It might exist) and I think that geographical differences and communicational isolation would have brought different names and expressions which we now know as different religions...

Faith and belief give a stand to us. A position, from where we derive courage, motivation and inspiration to move forward; to accept the challenges and to face the disasters. It is imperative to notice how things like river, mountain, wind, sun, moon and stars were considered divine or God but today in the light of knowledge our thoughts have been modified...So It proves to an extent that religion is our necessity, a man-made intelligent technique to unite people in a happy and peaceful ambiance; to answer the mysterious, unknown and unexplainable facts...And as world would change...our perception and interpretations about religion would also change. Fundamentally religion reflects that along with known and unknown there are things that are never-known.

For me, religion is more like a way of life...Hindu religion is a way of life...Islam is another way of life...there are so many different ways. Is it not possible for someone to be more suited for Christianity, even he get birth in Hindu Family and vice-versa? Birth should not define our religion...And if it is... It doesn’t fulfil the significance of religion. If you have right to choose your career, your soul-mate why not religion... Preservation of religion itself invokes the concept of expansion...What is need of preservation? Are people not free to choose what is good for them? The more you can do is to give him knowledge of religion and then let him free to choose his religion (his way of life)...

To establish a society is a difficult task as every person is not as intellectual as he can understand the main essence of religion. So it would have become a necessity to identify what is good and what is bad and then our intelligent forefathers would have given a religious covering with the threats of god so that people could be restricted to destabilize society... it has constrained people to do things which can destabilize the society, however the gap between perfection and heuristic solution has increased as time passed...

But life is not as simple as our forefathers had thought. Human has been always a competitive-ambitious-curious being...Even Religion has united some people but has created a wider gap between two communities who often fight over the superiority and divinity of their religion...People don’t follow Buddha; people follow Buddhism... people don’t follow Mohammad...people follow Islam...People don’t follow shankarcharya; people follow Hinduism ... And there is great difference between following a person and community...Because to follow Buddha, you need to know about his teachings...but following Buddhism you just have to take birth in Buddhist family...People don’t see the moon but only the finger that points the moon....

The word “Religion” has lost his authenticity in midst to blind and prejudiced thoughts. And now when being religious is pronounced as being extremism, this 'word' must be identified its true definition by all and sundry as it would provide a wider tolerance towards which would in turn create happy and peaceful ambiance.

Personally I am not religious, not religious as it sounds to majority of people...But I am spiritual, intuitive and believe in the laws of existence (which I have experienced)...And Might be my faith and belief wouldn’t be as strong as a man who follows ritual, does fast and worships god in Idol form...However, I feel it would be better with no-faith(faith in yourself only) than a blind-faith...Because I feel if your eyes are open, sooner or later you would get the vantage-point which would be proved to be a source of immense faith and courage... 

Saturday, November 7, 2009

If I Were A Baby Again

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 4; the fourth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.
“If I were baby again”, I can’t say whether I would be happier or not...But I know one thing that I would not be as happy as I conceive about it today. Somehow I feel retrospection makes things brighter and colourful. And might be my imagination due to retrospection would just virtually increase the intensity of happiness...

The word “baby” stands for two meanings to me...
First...One who is innocent; new to the world; without any judgement of right or wrong; unbiased; spontaneous; original; jovial; playful; unknown to trickeries of the world...
Second...  One who needs help; who is dependent; who needs care; who is incapable to do many things he wishes; one who is not fit to survive in this practical world...
Amazingly, in the journey of life, for being independent; for being fit to survive one has to lose one’s innocence and has to learn trickeries of world...
I feel when you are new to the world...when you have so many things to explore...when you see the things without any prejudices...You start seeing things beautiful...that exactly happens to a baby...For him everything is new. The leaf of trees, the round marbles and the greenery of grass appear so tempting and enchanting to him...He even doesn’t know how the society has prioritized and valued the things, for him everything holds equal value, either it is diamond or a small marble...
Whenever we see a baby, it reminds us our lost innocence, freshness and newness...the love and care of our parents and siblings; the new zest and excitement of life; uncrushed curiosity...and this remembrance makes the baby more loving and beautiful...For me, seeing a baby and playing with him is more enjoying than being a baby...  
I think that a baby also feel helplessness when he saw his elder brother cycling, playing games which he cannot; doing things he is incapable for...And in this way might be he can feel a tinge of slavery due to his current situation and starts dreaming to be young soon....
Can we not develop same innocence, same curiosity; same newness, same playfulness, same freshness, more precisely a baby like nature? I feel we can...There are so many new things; unexplored things; beautiful things;...and if we start learning new things; start searching unexplored things; start feeling the beauty in integrity, in wholeness ...We can taste the same freshness, same breeziness and same innocence, we used to feel when we were a baby...
So for me it is hard to choose if I am given a choice between being a baby again and remain in the same age...And if anyhow God makes me baby again, I would try to preserve the innocence, the spontaneity, the freshness and the curiosity which I today feel, has been dried out to get the things which are thought to be fit for survival in this practical world....

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Friday, November 6, 2009

Helpless Smile: 55-Fiction#5

A beautiful-sunny morning
Children were running, playing and enjoying
in the cool-breezy-aromatic air
Her soft-tempting eyes were moving...
Suddenly an elderly voice sprouted into air
Come on, Girl! Run and play with these children
She looked behind the bench and with
a helpless-feeble smile, lifted up her crutches...

Polio free India-Let’s deliver!
Hit hard, make dream a reality! 

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Recession: 55 fiction#4


Doctor: Don’t worry. This recession has brought several other people like you into depression...Have you not read the book “Be happy”? Read and take my prescribed medicines...You would get better soon...

Patient: I don’t think this book would help me...

Doctor: why?

Patient: Because I am the author of this book...

Sunday, November 1, 2009

Those Three Words

I had never imagined even in my wildest dream that one day our two years old-matured-committed relationship would get an end. And it was not a terrible dream. It was a dreadful reality. We had fought many times over trivial issues...and fight was not new...but our break-up was shockingly new. In a moment the castle of love, built in two years was collapsed down and was washed out by the tears of our eyes...
This was no way less than a nuclear explosion. My soul was being constantly stressed out of the body. A fire in the whole body was igniting which was reflecting by my faded-desiccated-wrenched face...
My friend suggested me to have a tour as it would make me feel better. So finally, I decided to go Goa, where I first met her. Might be I could end her memories from where it started. So I took the flight to Goa and next day I was at the calangut beach. It was first time I was alone physically but I knew how hard it was to be alone mentally...Mentally, I was still cursing my fate to fall in love with her...If memories of past could be wiped out...I surely would have done...
I was walking along the beach. The wave, going up and down, on the beach somewhere reflecting our  relationship...Happy moments and then unhappy moments...but every-time this was giving a new strength to our relationship...But this emotional exodus had drowned everything; our faith, our trust, our love...
I was watching every imprint; my feet were stamping on the brownish-wet sand. But there was something absent today...I felt my imprint incomplete, ugly, dreadful and feeble...A symmetry was missing and perhaps I felt absence of her feet which were first time imprinted into my heart at the same beach two years ago...
I felt miserable. As miserable as I have never felt before in my entire life...I got shivered with an unknown and alien sensation...And like a Hindi movie...I felt the need of something that could at least make me to forget all this...
I moved to wine shop...I had never had wine before...So I was nervous what would happen...However, the pain I was tolerating was many times bigger than my nervousness...I said the waiter to make a pack...He asked, “Which one, Sir”
For a moment he was puzzled to hear my answer...But soon he said, “Fenny, it would be better for you, sir”
Perhaps he had known that It was my debuted drink...
I drank one pack after mixing it to Limca...I felt weightlessness but still I was conscious...
Again I was at the beach...
I murmured as I was reading a poem,” See the waves near the beach, so amazingly inviting to go and take a jump in the enthralling beauty of existence and satiate the ignited fire in the mixture of the divinity of sun-light and playful bluish water.”
My words were so feeble against the strong yet soothing winds that only I could hear what I said... It was my senses that were being translated into words...abstract for others...but complete for me...
My mind was tempting so vigorously that I could not wait to put my clothes off. I ran against the wind; kissing the wind; embracing and feeling the sweetness and in few moments I was in the sea, caressing gently the water; trying to mingle myself completely; yes, a drop in the ocean...
It was my best bath I have ever had...It did not only clean my body; my whole conscience was feeling fresh and rejuvenated.
I moved towards my hotel...I saw couple walking on the wet sand grabbing each other’s hand, it reminded me the day  when I proposed her and promised her to be with her in every circumstances...I felt a guilt...A guilt that a fresh and rejuvenated soul could not bear...I did not know who was right and who was wrong...I felt a sudden urge to talk her...But I did not know she would talk me or not...I knew I had broken my promise and I needed to apology...I dialled her number on my mobile...Mobile rang and with each ring my heart was pounding like ebb and tide...And suddenly she picked up the phone...My heart was stopped...I could not speak for a moment... But I had to...With a whispering sound I said, “I am Sorry.” And these three words were many times difficult to speak than those three words I had spoken two years ago on the same beach...But the feeling after this was same...A heavy weight of guilt on my heart was thrown out... As I disconnected my phone, I saw an unchecked message saying “I am Sorry” that had been sent 15 minutes before I called her...

Doctor says that when a broken hand gets more strength...And fortunately our momentary break-up and make-up made our bond stronger; more resistant...
And one day when I told her about this story...She giggled, “Had you really drunk wine? I cannot believe...looks so bollywoodish...doesn’t it?”
“Yes! I had...but please don’t remind me...I am feeling embarrassed... “
“Really, so do you need another pack?” with saying this...she burst into laughter...
I pretended to have a cold gesture but inside I knew that I was wishing to hear her laughter forever....

Love stories have not always tragic ends...they have happy endings too... :)

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Uniqueness And Illness

There is one more month after which I am going to enter in professional world. I don’t know how it would be but some of my friends who have joined their respective companies are saying only one thing that “the best days (College days) are over”. Well, it is little bit scary for me when I imagine a routine life, going to office at 8:00 a.m. and returning at 6:00 p.m. without any bunk. And certainly these days would never match with wonderful experiences of college days. The good thing in professional word is salary, a feeling of economical independency...But well, it also somehow comes into a form of responsibility and accountability. My friends say that in college days they have time but short of money and now they have money but short of time. And for all things which we say in general joy, pleasure and happiness... one needs time and money in definite proportions. Along with money and time, one of the most things we require is congenial friends. Without them, our joy and happiness would have no soul...And somehow I feel that is the one thing we could find in our college very easily... However in professional world, friends who match with your taste are more likely to be got in a job which genuinely interests us. And I feel to get such things it is better to put money at stake... The person who is able to derive joy in his professional work is the man of utmost bliss... There are two things he is getting there...First, he is doing an interesting work and second, he is amongst the people who match his taste... 

In India, what I feel, we are not blessed to make our own choices. Most of us are told by the society and it decides our profession and in turn, our future. The choice of profession is prioritized by the salary we would get in that profession. A child doesn’t know what a professor is; what a scientist does; what a manager needs. So only thing which standardizes or ranks is the “money”, we would get in that profession...So a general choice becomes our choice...But in reality, everyone has different interest. Interests cannot be generalized. And hence, when we enter into a world, we feel boredom and dissatisfaction in our job... Blessed are those who find a way to express their interest in form of hobbies which act like elixir for their wrenched soul... 

In most cases, “Different” is termed as “Insanity”. If anyone is different, the contemporary people would feel him either a lunatic or dumb. Even his family, his parents would constantly try to shape him according to commonness of society...Now two things can happen...If the person continued his work, neglecting the public opinion, eventually he would become a “Licensed lunatic” (from a lunatic). In the 2nd case, he would become a timid person that would be reflected from his introverted and ill-humoured nature. It’s not new...It has been continuing for centuries...I think you can figure out why “Galileo” and “Kepler”  were called the most dangerous people... The words ‘different’ and ‘common’ are also relative words. One who is different in one sect might be common for other sect. In reality, differences mirror people to see what they lack; what they have not, they get afraid of...So they try to omit it, if they can’t, eventually satisfy themselves by making it a synonym of insanity...

I feel whatever profession we would get; how much power we would be bestowed upon; how much money we would have...if we have not found where our interest lies...if we have not found congenial friends...At the final reckoning, we would realize that we have only passed, not enjoyed your life...But going for our interest is not easy job in current scenario..We would have to endure the humiliation of being called “insane”, “non-pragmatic” and "looser". One needs courage...but unfortunately most of us could not... For some people, facing society is more traumatic than facing death...We distort our natural shape according to public opinion... There is only one cure of all this...People need to increase the toleration ability towards public opinion...and when there would be sufficient number of people who accept differences as uniqueness, not as illness, then I feel there would be revolutionary change in the outlook of society...


Friday, October 23, 2009

A Story of An Old Man

No one knew from where he came and how he was surviving. His big-whitish beard, scattered hair, worn out clothes and his erratic behaviour soon confirmed that he was mentally ill. Outside of colony, people often saw him brushing the ground with the small and thin twig of same tree which had become his permanent shelter. He had an old bag too. No one ever had an idea what was inside it. Someone had given him a bottle and aluminium Tiffin that he put just in front of him and frequently the red monkeys and dogs robbed his food, leaving him hungry and thirsty. Often he talks to himself and it went for longer...Sometimes it turned into cry and sometimes he laughed vehemently. It was hard to predict to see his face what he was going to do...was he about to laugh or about to cry? People passed all day. He never looked at them nor did the people look at him. In the night, the women, who were happy for some personal reason or who wanted to show her sympathetic behaviour to her neighbour or who just inspired by watching “Sanskar Channel” gave him food and water... Since colony was big and most of women were competitively religious...he rarely slept hungry...

It was a very hot day...In the scorching heat, under the tree he was laying as he was counting the number of leaves on the tree. He was not talking as he used to do often. In between the spaces of leaves, rays of sun were appearing like a spear, ready to penetrate the body coming in its way. Insensitive to everything, he, like a dried log, was gazing upwards as he was a broken branch of tree.
It was two in the afternoon. With a dried reed...he was writing something...People were passing but as usual they were ignoring him. But it was something different today...His hands were moving fast as he had to answer the final question of his life in a very short time. His body was trembling like a just switched off generator. Even in the noise of surroundings...the sound of his breathing, rustling so heavily could be heard... But people were busy and women were in their A.C. Rooms...watching their favourite T.V.Channel...
Now it was five in the evening. Children were playing Cricket. Ravi hit the ball towards the tree. Rishu went ahead to catch the ball. He saw the old man...laying like a lifeless body; grabbing a thin twig with his half closed palms. As he moved forward...He saw something carved on the ground...he tried to read it...

He pronounced wwaatteerrr. As soon as the meaning of word overrode the sound, he ran towards his home, puzzling his friends who were waiting for the ball to start the game. He went, took a bottle from his a second he reached the old man...He tried to shake his body...His body gave a little response...His drowsy eyes opened a bit...His dried lips curved a bit...The boy opened the bottle and poured some droplets of water to his parched and desiccated lips but it did not went inside...It just floated outside. Meanwhile all children rounded him...flabbergasted to see something that they were unknown till now...the TRUTH of life...the END of life...
Soon people gathered around him. It was first time when in his dead body, people noticed that once he was alive...
A dried branch fell on the ground...replacing another one... Only difference was that former would soon be taken...perhaps children would use it to make their new cricket bat...

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

A Miracle; A Short Story

Some distant sounds; blurring images; fishy smell; sultry and humid air, this was all she could feel. She didn’t know where she was and why she was. After a dizzying and aching period she could feel the touch of water which was irritating to the core, her body looking like a log, put into salty water for a long-time layering against sands and cobblestones.
“Are you Ok... How are you feeling?  “, In between she heard an organic male voice that was so soothing but full of apprehension...she turned her eyes, sensing the direction of sound....
Her eyes remained opened for a moment. He was handsome, must be of her age or might be 2 years younger or older...she felt she had died and he was an angel, going to welcome in heaven...”Oh! Great...Heaven do exist”, she murmured.
“Who are you?” she saw concern and anger on his face as he asked...she realized that she was not in heaven...she was here...alive; fully functioning; could hear; could smell; could see. She looked around. She saw herself on the shore of a river in a desolate and deserted place. As she was becoming conscious, as she was realizing what wrong had happened with her. And suddenly, pulling his hand away from her, she cried hysterically in anger and desperation.
Why did you do that? You don’t know what have you done?”
I have saved your life!
“Saved my life, you have ruined my death.”
Death! Are you going to commit suicide?
No, I was going to get permanent cure of my disease.
What disease...Are you suffering? “
Yes! I am suffering...And death is its only cure...You know, you ruined everything.”
Don’t puzzle me...Tell me.
Am I puzzling you? You have made my life a puzzle.”
She was realizing she was becoming too harsh on him. She felt humiliation in his eyes.
Ok! Sorry I am being harsh on you.” She cried as she was going to weep.
“Yes! I was going to do suicide. But you know, why? ...Because he dumped me; left me. He had been with me for 2 years and I never thought how filthy he could be...I left my family; my parents; my brother for only being with him and he... was being lovey-dovey with another girl and when I asked...he had a simple answer...we are over!. How simply he answered.” She cried and cried.
“Are you not feeling weird what I am doing here, in this abandoned land?”
Sometimes questions have answers too. She was flabbergasted.
He continued, “When you see someone dying, you realize what it means to be alive and that is what I have learned from your life when you were dying. We cannot choose our life and so we have no right to choose our death.”
He sat down beside her. “Don’t worry...God does not want to make us die...that’s why we met.”
She felt tenderness and affection in his words.
 “Your life is not so cheap that you would lose for any uncouth and dishonest one.” Do you not believe in miracles? You should do. Life is a miracle and when someone snatches one’s life from the abode of death is another miracle. And this is a miracle for both of us. “
He touched her cold hand, she felt the warmth, and it was the warmth of life. When souls meet, eyes begin to speak. A mystical force pulled them close. He wiped away her tears. They embraced, but it was not physical. It was merger of two souls who had found the meaning of life and were dancing to get the rhythm of each other in the music of existence.

IndiBlogger of the Month
P.S. Dear Friends! My blog has been nominated for Indiblogger of the Month in the category of Original Poetry.To Vote click here . You can vote 5 bloggers. I would be grateful if I would be one person to whom you vote...Thanks a lot to Bharathi for reminding me for my nomination..

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Stirring Of Soul

Even Gold becomes pure when it is fired and hammered. Our apocryphal stories are woven with the concept of “Manthan”. It is to be understood as they are indicative of a greater truth that one has to endure pain and suffering to realize his true and pure nature. There is “Manthan” in real life too. And that is “Stirring of Soul”, an emotional churning. It reveals the truth that was hidden in the darkness of ignorance and provides the strength that you would have never felt. “Stirring of soul” defines and decides yours mettle.
In our life time, almost everyone has to go through pain and sufferings(I am talking particularly emotional one) . Some of them can not able to cope with it and despite facing they bend themselves on their knees, hiding their faces with their palms. And some accept it, face it without calculating if they would defeat or would be defeated. In a long run, former types prove to be so vulnerable that a slight storm of distress destroys their whole being. And later types are shaped and enforced by such strength that even a tornado of disaster couldn’t tremble their being.
According to Darwin, Struggle of life generates changes in the species so that they could survive. This change is so effective and impacting that steers the changes in Generation through Genetic modification. In life, in which we often witness emotional conflicts and struggle for survival...we have a plenty opportunities to develop the strength of resistance. Just we need to face it. Accept it and we would get the changes to endure any further sufferings.
Personally, I have also passed through “Stirring of Soul” in the 22 years of my life. Though they were endurable however I feel when I retrospect that it was the turning point of my life that made me to reach where I am standing. Just I was reading Autobiography of Mahatma Gandhi...It was amazing to find how little weakness and disabilities shaped him to be “Mahatma” from a mediocre school boy. A man, who could not speak a written letter in public, led the greatest historical revolution of world. Gandhi Ji is not only one...the great philosopher, the great musician and the great scientist all prove how important “stirring of soul” is.
Every gloomy situation in life has a bright side too. We need to find it... like in the book “Alchemist”...We need to receive the signal that existence sends...I feel these pain and suffering are the signal and if they are received aptly and perfectly in complete awareness...It would lead us for greater good...
Life is not a utopia nor can everyone be detached. And so we are destined to endure pain and sufferings. When Buddha says “World is full of miseries. And desire is its reason.” It is true; but can we ever become without desires? I think Most of us cannot be. I feel Tolstoy quote more rational when he says “Pure and complete sorrow is as impossible as pure and complete joy.” So Miseries are bound to happen and only way to save from these miseries is to accept sufferings with open arms so that it can lead you to resistivity otherwise distortions are another possibility.

Well, I don’t know to what extent I am correct however even a faith or thought that these sufferings would make me more resistive and perfect, provides me a courage to endure suffering with patience. And for an agnostic like me this "faith" is congruent to the “God” of theist.

Regarding Post I would say... it is just my mood, not an intellectual expression. 

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Begging Future

Scientists believe that after a certain period especially childhood, our mind does not develop; it just gathers knowledge, makes it experiences and learns new things. Freud, the father of psychology claims that till that age, the way our mind gets shaped; it lasts for our whole life and defines our behaviour and character. So, the important point which I want to draw is that childhood is the most crucial period which decides and defines our future.
To grow a child, is an art, the most beautiful living art of existence. But unfortunately, everyone doesn’t want to reveal his art as they have never felt the joy of this art Or maybe they would have work more prior to this. So their creation is not perfect. A child needs care, love, humbleness, spontaneity; which most of people would be mistaken by fulfilment of economic needs. Well, a good school can substitute the role of parents to an extent but not completely.
In case of India where good schools and perfect parents are a distant fantasy for most of people, it is imperative to find a way to save them from their earlier exploitation and traumatic sufferings. It is not only sexual exploitation that is needed to be considered; there are many other types like emotional and physical exploitation that is needed to be prevented for a better future of our society and in turn, our country. I earnestly feel whenever one sees a child with begging bowl in his/her hand; their parents are guilty and should be punished. A child should not be by-product of one’s lustful passion but it should be only when one feels that one is capable of taking such responsibility. If stealing and robbery are termed as crime why parents would not be convicted if they are not capable to fulfil their duty towards their children? 
Every time I pass through a temple, I see beggars, begging outside the temple. I really never figure out if we should give them some money or not as our small contribution can light up a smile on their face. And what could be greater than to make someone smile? However I feel if we start giving money to all of them it would not be far away when whole India would be outside the temples. I don’t know Begging is criminalized act or not but feel it should be as it flows generation by generation. Their children are forced to beg and get habituated (addicted). Government should take responsibility to find out the beggars, who are genuinely unable to cope with its domestic needs. It must be figured out and capable one should be discouraged to beg. 
One of the best ways to take part in growth of country is helping the children. Helping children is strengthening the base of country that would make India to sustain further developments. There are so many ways to help them. One could choose the way according to one’s convenience. But there is no substitute of helping others at individual level as it is direct and quick. At every place, we can find the children who need help and taking responsibility of one could change their future. Your little help could have such major impact on one’s life is itself so satisfying and creative. It is like a seed we plant in soil and when it grows bigger, we feel a spiritual connectivity to its grandeur and beauty.
I would not say that your help should be religious as it said that you should help feeling that you are so blessed to get such opportunity. We can derive practical happiness by helping children. It’s Ok even it would give you pleasure by satisfying your Ego. Let it derive pleasure in this way...Eventually we need to find a way to help them. Prize, awards and appreciation might be a practical way to make practical people to help children.
I feel, by little awareness, one can feel how creative and satisfying this work could be. I read this quote “when life's problems seem overwhelming, it helps to look around and see what other people are coping with. You may consider yourself far more blessed than you imagined”. Every time you would look the child you would realize how fortunate you are. It would remind you to feel the gratefulness towards life. Might be, in this way you would forget little things which were making you upset. In this work, I feel that Government is not as effective as an individual can be. So, every citizen of India who feels he/she is capable can contribute to revolutionize India’s future. 

I wrote this poem while I was in 2nd year of my college...Hope! you would like it....

Have you ever seen the crying eyes
A speechless mouth of moaning size
A body hided by torn cloths
And legs that tremble to advance
Her watery eyes are searching someone
Her mute prayer is trying to awake everyone
Her thin hands are not able to lift the bowl
which she holds and trying it not to fall
Her eyes are moving more than her legs
Her heart speaks more than her mouth when she begs
She does not know why and how she is here
Why she is crying, while others cheer
We are moving, ignoring that she laments
At every temple, every corner, at every moment

Regarding post, I have to say..In truth, we talk to ourselves but sometimes we talk loud enough that others may hear us.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

My 100th Post

                And Finally I have made a century. This is my 100th post.Thanks a ton to all my fellow bloggers for their kind support and overwhelming encouragement. 


I don’t know, why?
I don’t know, how?
But I feel life as a wheel
Moving round and round
Science is in search
To find its "moment of Inertia"
Philosophy is in the investigation
To know the cause of its rotation
We inherit attributes, qualities
They are the lubricants
That make our life so smooth, so efficient
Somehow I feel,
Love is the centripetal force,
That makes you to be on the wheel.
Gratitude is mass
Desire is radius
Speed, you need to find
To be stable on the wheel
So my friend! Tight your belts
To find your unique position
On your unique ever-moving wheel

*If life is a wheel, then Love is the centripetal force that makes you to be on the wheel.

Thanks a lot to Rachana for giving this wonderful title to my poem. :)