Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts
Showing posts with label honesty. Show all posts

Friday, March 14, 2014

The Love that I saw...

The dreamscape was not over yet… Stories within stories were still unfolding, and I was there the protagonist savoring the near perfect life. There were friends, relationships, and the love existed in those relationships. Life was not a cramp to live with in a city of hustle. It was winter, the moon shining white, and the musk floated in the air of a small town called Brotherhood. A colony of people dwelt there who loved to grow affection for others. They cultivated love, they ate love, but they never sold them. They had stored so much of love in their hearts that their chests were bigger than the people on the other side, separated from dreamy episodes by a thin film. ‘Those who rupture the film don’t get roles in our episodes’, he had said. They must cross over it, without tearing apart their own existence as well as that of the film.
I am not the creator of dreamscape; I am the protagonist playing the role that I wanted. He always insisted me to quench my thirst with Love and gallop on the pavements without the fear of falling down and getting injured. He confirmed, as long as I am in Brotherhood and my wishes are sacred I won’t get injured, although he never guarantees anything for the world on the other side. Everyone calls him the Grandfather. Big chested people say that he is the creator of Brotherhood.


I had always thought of love. I imagined that one day I will be at par with them who were loved on this side, in the real world. I was in delusion in reality. I was deluded till the night when the grandfather explained me the truth. I don’t remember how it happened, but I recollect that he had crossed the film, stepped into the real world, and carried me away to Brotherhood. In that episode, I spent the whole night at Grandfather’s mansion where he lives alone. He is the one with the biggest chest in his town. There we had dinner together; we had roasted turkey, sausages, and warm milk for me while he had wine for himself. He kept smiling at me in between his sips of wine, and through pauses in his speech. He explained me how deluding the world on the other side is, and how deluding its inhabitants are.

‘Love is not just between a girl and a boy. Love is so sacred that it exists between every two entities and more. Love is between sand and stones. Love is between air and the mountains. Love is between birds and the sky. Love is between a mother and her kids. Love is between me and you. And don’t forget, that the love is between you and yourself.’

As the grandfather spoke, his eyes used to get closed and his right arm swung here and there in air.

‘But do you know what is necessary for the Love to be present? It’s the truth and the honesty. And I doubt they don’t exist anymore on the other side’, his head bowed down, his eyes were still closed.

Grandfather sipped some more, and then followed his words.

‘You might get yourself hurt my son. Expectations have been killing people from inside. I have lived my whole life there, and I know how many times I was killed.’

‘Will I get killed too grandfather?’, I asked hesitatingly.

‘I will not let you. And I have brought here to prevent you from any injury you might incur. Expectations, wishing for love staying on the other side, these are potentially dangerous’, replied he.

‘Come on, give me your hand and lets go for a night stroll. Let me show you how the Love feels like in its truest form. But I suggest you not to expect the same when you wake up in your world. In Brotherhood we cultivate love, we eat love, but we never sell them. You must know what the true love is and this will prevent you from falsehood and delusions…’

The night was beautiful. Trees were dressed with shimmering lights from fireflies. The twilight was mused in the music of violin coming from a distant hut. I saw the moon through the clouds that were not polluted. I could see people with varying sizes of chest. And I could easily deduce who were more loving. ‘Truth and Honesty’, I was engrossed within depths of my mind with these two words told by the grandfather to an extent that I watched every movement in that episode to confirm that indeed the truth and the honesty existed there which made the whole ambience so loving. The truth and the honesty, they existed in families, between friends, and strangers. I was the protagonist, but I was the stranger too. But the showering love never seemed to go lesser on me.

I would never free my hand from the grandfather’s. I wish if I could stay here forever… I wish if…
I was about to mutter some more to myself but the episode ended. The night full of love came to an end with the warm sun overhead and with the alarm clock proudly at its work.

It’s not summer here, but still the heat is killing. I don’t focus on weather reports. I have a different measurement scale like the one that the grandfather used in his life here. I want to learn some more from him. But not right now. I must hurry for the school. I will be the protagonist in the next episode of the dreamscape tonight.  



PS: Every night I get into dreams, and they are like episodes of a tele serial where the life is what I have always wanted. Dreamscape is a tele serial, and I am the protagonist, and I will continue to be in each of its upcoming episodes.

Tuesday, March 26, 2013

An Odd Invention



Like the way OS drives hardware,
My tender heart drives my actions.
My CPU seldom pauses its function,
Clutched in multiple processes
And deadly thread synchronization.
Endured against suffocation,
Withstanding brute deadlock condition;
I envy that giant-tiny mastermind,
Fabricated into a chip
Named after Intel’s perfection.

My limbs and glands,
Constitute my local connection.
Through narrow bandwidth in my nerves
Runs protocol for communication.
In meshes, in rings, in stars or on buses,
With niggling breaks and data congestion
My dreams sail in intense versions.
Full of exclamations and interjections,
My vision surpasses
Chris Nolan’s ‘Inception’.

Procuring the imagination
Of an unmatched conviction.
With new thoughts’ propulsion
At my solitary mansion,
I head towards tranquility
Drawing my steps towards the invention.
An invention that can help you find
Eternal love for your life 
Exempted of distrust and disgust.
Aided with honesty, and upheld warmly.

And that would be my ultimate innovation;
My blow of life,
Into lives of millions & millions.



Images Courtesy : Google Images Search

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Contemplation

I am not a professional writer, not even know how to arrange my words to make them meaningful, and attract the attention of my spectators I suppose. It is very much essential to make people take interest in you, in your point of view. Because if they are not occupied with your representation, they would consider your truth, even your soul feelings, farting and sick, and hence will go away leaving you behind, letting you go dumb, and speechless.
And me being an amateur at writing, it is very much difficult for me to make my friends understand what my silence stands for, although I seldom found people in my life that I dwelt since I was born and till now, for whom I shall entitle them with the tag of the major word “Friends”.
I believe in the fact that shining of eyes always doesn’t signify beauty inside them; it may also be so because of tears that are embedded in them. Not always the tears of joy.
Smile is the best jewel that human can wear to make themselves look lovely. But who cares about the person who suffers so much to get that jewel. And if some how he gets it, still convulses of anguish, in order to let it remain at its place, because it is very much difficult to hide that it is just an imitation.
I have gone tired of my feelings, my sensitiveness towards the actions that play around me, and I suppose that they are getting cancerous. I have gone tired of making out senses about what I did was right or not. It would seem philosophical and will not tally with the mindsets of friends of ours, at the current scenario, where everybody seems to be “overbusy”; although I am afraid if this very word exists or not, but I suppose my learned friends would have got the meaning of what I wished to say.

I never talk. Please mind this thing that I am not saying that I talk less. My “no talk” doesn’t implies that I show rudeness to people, or there is something called unfriendly nature in me. I am a worthy friend, honest, and very much social as well. My so called “No talk” policy is just to keep up myself with what people do, and not to let them know that I am unhappy with what they are doing, and me myself don’t want to hurt them by pointing out the loopholes in their intentions behind doing so. I know you will find this weird, but I can’t help it. The whole system nowadays has undergone such a change where each thing that people do, makes me raise questions with myself and makes my trust upon them go in grave danger.
I take responsibility to reach the Supremo to make my job done, I do all arrangements, I prepare myself in every aspect that seems within my capabilities. But I always fail to make myself prepared to tell lies, to be dishonest at some juncture where it becomes essential for my job to get done. And consequently my job fails. I come back empty handed. I can’t impress my people, because at current course of time, it is very much difficult to impress people by the help of honesty and truth. I have stopped my attempts of getting myself go crooked as I have realised that they can never be embossed in my soul, because it is preoccupied with my firm impression of truth.

Politeness and realisation of obedience by each other in every relationship is very much necessary. But I don’t find this now in this changed world. May be I am wrong because I had been using my heart to observe these things instead of my eyes, powered up by my specs. People do certain things to one another, by the name of prank they call so, declaring their rights to play them on their friends that more often lead to a hitting sensation in their friend’s heart. But none of them enrol themselves into a serious stroll due to such hip hop events. But I do mind such things.
Now I suppose that you would have agnised why I prefer my “No Talk” policy. I can’t change.
Am I wrong if I think this way? Why have my heart and soul teamed up against my brain? Brain is set for current challenges and latest upbringings, but my teamed up heart and soul sing another jargon. Aren’t our people wrong somewhere? And if they are wrong, how do I assume that so many people can be wrong at the same time. Why do people compromise for things that are not right, that are not healthy?
I want to talk. But don’t know how to make myself talk. If my words made some significant meaning to you, then please do give comments.

GOD SHALL BLESS US ALL
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ANSHUL GAUTAM