'The Power of a Common Man'

I saw ‘Nayak’ in the reel life in year 2001. I had never thought the reel life would transform into reality, and
the whole nation will witness one day a ‘Nayak’ in the real life. Yes! And that day came when Arvind Kejriwal took oath as the Chief Minister of Delhi on 28th of this month.

It takes 'intention' to be present, and not the experience, says Kejriwal to lead the nation towards upliftment from clutches of corruption and moral degradation. I completely agree with what he says, with whatever clauses he has quoted to be inculcated into our constitution. Towards politics, the interest of mine would get inclined so drastically, I never thought of it. But that came into as I saw him taking oath to get sworn as the 7th Chief Minister of Delhi. And it’s not just for me but I suppose a major portion of India’s youth is getting drawn towards AAP (Aam Aadmi Party). It was not a surprise for me when I read of Remo Fernandes joining AAP. This is just the beginning, and I believe soon many will be coming to the front. We are mistaken if we believe that joining a political party means we are going to contest elections. It’s just like becoming a member of an organization and working for it at the back end, clarifies Remo.

The early life and political career of Arvind Kejriwal is very interesting. At each instant and at every walk of his life I sense the ‘intention’ to work something better, to curb down the corruption into ashes.
And now that he has got the platform and sufficient power to ‘change the prevailing’, expectations are huge.

Day before yesterday, I came across this photo.
And only one thing comes to my mind, ‘Never underestimate the power of a common man’.

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The Prerequisite that helps to Succeed...

How much importance we give towards education of children. What do we aim for by educating them precisely? Do we intend to make them increase the number of degrees of various qualifications? I believe we expect them to come up with sound knowledge, but not just that rather we expect them to develop themselves into a civilized and a well behaved ‘human’. Children are made to target towards the wishes bricked together by their parents, and seldom left to make the choice of their own. But at the grass root level if we examine, we will realize that indeed we wish to produce a well behaved person in future.

Sadly, somewhere we are lacking. We are lacking to produce youngsters with proper mannerism and quality to behave decently in front of other people. When talked about mannerism, I bifurcate moral values and professional behavioral attitude as co-related but separate entities. A child inculcated with sound moral values need not always possess sound professional attributes in his behavior. And the same goes the other way round too. But neither of these two entities is being imbedded into youngsters. This setback is coming at the front in form of poor placement records in colleges, and this scenario prevails more dominantly in C-grade private colleges of India.

After such students pass out from college, frankly with such a void attitude they own no future at all. Companies who hire people look for well-groomed personality and rich mannerism in talks first, knowledge comes second. And if they fail to meet the first requirement, who cares to let them have their technical knowledge tested. The matter is of prime concern today, and this not just covers the problem arena of engineering colleges, rather it stresses the need to own well behavioral attitude in general as a prerequisite before venturing for any kind of job. You can yourself see how we are inclined towards those companies who offer better customer relations. How good the service is being provided that comes second. At the first place we realize how the behavioral outlooks are towards us. From your favorite local restaurant to deciding the best consultancy service for your business, it all starts with sound conduct in talks.

Today to grow with India, the prerequisites need to be inculcated and furnished with shine at the earliest. The early the youngsters realize this, the better it will be.

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Beauty n Sophistication

In the belittled

Swollen bunch of color,

Grooves lie many

With pungent straying odor.

In one, I lie,

Lies my world

That small you will say,

In the bigger of yours

Do happy you stay?

At peace is life here
Free from sickness' grey,

Expectations we don't keep

And work for the fragrance spray.

Devoid of emotions is inside,

But pain inlays.

Me too, a creation of God...

You call it a beauty

Or a sophistication you say.

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That day after everyday

Ideally, violence should be the very last resort for anything. And thats what Anurag Kashyap sir showed in his 22 minutes short movie 'That Day After Everyday'.
Our country, the land of commotions, reasons to which have various domains ranging from political corruption to domestic disgrace, from individual's moral spoliation to lack of futuristic visions.
In this scenario the status of women in our society is a setback to each one of us. Molestation and eve teasing is like everyday's bread, so common that not a single day passes without witnessing such illicit acts.

Anurag Kashyap sir, a renowned name in Good Film making, has come up with a striking story which will pull down into a pool of shame those chauvinists who bear no respect for women.




Why am I blogging about this movie? I would say its my support for Anurag Kashyap and his work in this movie, and also to raise my voice against morally deprived men in the society.

Here I share the official link of this movie uploaded on YouTube, under the banner of LargeShortFilms, which holds fame for making quality short films.

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The 3rd Blogoversary

It was around this time, three years back; I was in first year then. It started with enthusiasm to have my own space online, which would somewhat look closer to a website. I remember I made a website for my school when I was in class Xth as a part of my school project. Having got appreciation from my computer teacher, gradually I gained interest in web development, and always wanted to have a website for myself. What exactly my website would be all about, what contents it would have I never thought of. ‘Blogs’, I came to know of when Mr. Amitabh Bachchan started to reach people through his blog. Blogs are the medium to express yourself and connect with people. Blogs serve as an online journal, linking to other sites and news stories.

My poetic verses and story making in messages/SMS for fun and scraps on Orkut started making their space at my newly made blog at Wordpress. But me being an enthusiast for web development, and a student of computer science, I was not satisfied to work within restrictions imposed by Wordpress at that time. Wordpress has turned a bit flexible now but then it not even allowed use of iframes and external scripts. 
I came to know of an online tool which could transfer a Wordpress blog to Blogger, keeping posts and comments all intact. And that marked the start of my exposure to web development and web designing.

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Jelly (:Happy:) Beans

Android, the most popular platform used in mobile phones, its users across the globe is increasing each day. Android is open source, and provides with maximum flexibility to its users who can tune their phones the way they want. That’s an old story now when we were limited with the options and features that the phone came packaged with. Now in era of smart phones powered with various versions of Android, mobile users have options to select what they want for themselves and can update them through the course of time. Stay updated with new features, new technology and new innovations through applications which are available in gigantic number at Google’s Play Store. Now when we mentioned of Google’s Play Store, we can’t just overlook the advantage that Android has given to application developers. To get noticed, and start earning easily, the optimistic way has been shown by Play Store which is the repository for Android Applications where mobile users can download applications of their choice. Application Developers can submit their developed applications to Play Store for other users to download. Play Store houses both premium as well as free applications.

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Puja in Phailin

Vijaya Dashmi, the symbol of victory of good over evil, has gone off the hood of festivity, and it seems the zeal has weakened among the wide span of people. Nine days of festive mood took the turn otherwise and led the grudge sprawl across the eastern India in form of cyclone Phailin. Other than the major devastation which the devil with more than 200kmph speed caused in Andhra Pradesh and Odisha, now decreased at the speed of 45-50 kmph is moving across Bihar and affecting the region with heavy rainfall. The end to these nine days of celebrations, bestowed with offerings in form of vrat and worship, will result into a dull day full of hopelessness in a closed room was never expected by me.

It has been more than 35 hours, proper supply of electricity has not been restored in Patna. Last night we compromised with no electricity and scarce supply of water left in our tanks. Today too, with two hours of electricity only, the compromise continued. I have made a notion, which at this situation seems so apt. ‘The Good has certainly stopped winning over the Bad.’ :D Unburnt residuals of giant Ravana at Gandhi Maidan today in this weather, might infer the same. :P

5 years back, those days when I was still in school, the zeal for Puja used to be different. The height of festivity was not only high for me, but I could sense that among the masses on the road too very easily. Time has changed now, interests have been manipulated. I roamed half of the Patna on Maha-Ashtami, but couldn't find the essence that still lingers at the back of my mind. Where has the honesty crept in? Why do the rituals at the front appear superficial on the thick coat of disguise?

In the state/nation where the status of women is jeopardized, I am confused why so much of pom-pom for Durga Puja? On Navmi ( the ninth day of Durga Puja), the devotee invites Kunwari Kanya (maiden) to feed them as a ritual which completes the nine days of worship. Whats the need for such a falsification outside, when no respect and dignity stays inside. Be it a regular day, or within the crowd of Durga Puja on the road, eve-teasing and illicit comments are very much common. The intentions in the eyes and glances itself tell the whole story. I pick up my previous notion and refine it a bit. ‘The Good is not left to the extent that it can win over the extolling Bad’.

Electricity is yet to come. It’s raining hard outside. The laptop power I saved is almost over now.  
I pray everyone stays safe, and for them who suffered the blows of Phailin in Andhra and Odisha may get rehabilitated soon. I pray the mother to bestow kindness, and help us stay honest to ourselves.

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Sacred Touch

Bliss is in your touch,

The feat to heal.

Antiquated is the bond of ours,

In your every touch I feel.

Your pokes… Your pulls…

Your caresses of love

Your every touch I know.

But when I face you

Crimson and blushed I go

Naiveness I show.

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Dream-Catchers

Dreams are moving pictures developed in our subconscious, and triggered to display before us, irrespective of our state which could be asleep, or awoken. Is it necessary to go asleep before you can visualize the longing of yours? Those subdued desires clenched under strands of incompetence, helplessness? From the pool of wants, even though fraction volume of it gets fulfilled somehow, but that doesn’t helps to lessen the occupancy of the mysterious container…

I narrow my vision, and broaden it at places, and conclude collectively, however big or small dreams be, we run after it physically or mentally. It accounts for the efforts that are laid, and its efficiency, which ultimately makes you the achiever or let you stay a dreamer in turmoils. At this juncture I wonder, what about those dreams, that can turn into reality with efforts of letting no stones unturned, but it gets targeted by some who bear an objective to demolish the success that might result of those efforts. I dream, they dream too. Is it the clash of dreams? Or is it the clash of wants? Is there a midway between Dreams and Wants which separate them as the two different entities?

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S.H.O.R.T.S | Anurag Kashyap's Revolution

Anurag Kashyap came forward with another out of the box concept, and left his audience pondering with messages conveyed in five short movies. ‘SHORTS’, under the co-production of AKFPL, is the collection of 5 short movies by 5 different directors. This was for the first time that such a concept was presented on silver screens. Each short movie has the cinematography so brilliant that the perception of audience will get enthralled. 

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Brain-sick's Diary >> Positivism

Life has been a chaotic drama lately, with numerous self-realizations and self-discoveries. I have turned more rigid and endured against harshness. Yes! The heat was rising drastically and it burnt me like hell, but I need to stand in the kitchen. As Harry S Truman said, ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen’. Escaping is never a solution, it takes courage to face it and make your way through it.

I have started to read a lot. Earlier, I used to hang around with friends or used to tread down alone on the roads of Durgapur, composing short stories and poetry. But now, I read a lot in my room, and this has been the time when most of the self-realizations and self-discoveries have started to come up. How much goodness does the reading habit brings for you, I got to learn. I read two books by Dale Carnegie within past two weeks; ‘How to speak Effectively’ and ‘How to stop worrying and start living’, while ‘How to win friends and people’ I am still reading. It has helped me a lot to improve myself in terms of perceptions that I used to have earlier about ‘friends’, ‘people in general’ and ‘relationships’ that human kind has to offer to you. Most of the problems in our lives are not the serious ones, as Carnegie said, ‘We suffer only from minute problems the most, and tend to overlook the bigger part of our happy life’. Why should we go on spoiling the only life we got because of few tiny pinching agents that life brought in for you?

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Brain-sick's Diary >> Inhuman

Against the one I love the most, even to hear a small word of offence fills me with anger that I can’t subdue. The wrath of my placid soul fights against spoilt demeanor against the one whom I home inside me. How can I not? The tiny and weak strands of friendship, which I stood holding calling them to be considerate and fortunate for me, were mere delusion. I never thought they would pain me like the unhealed wound getting unstitched. From the day, till the evening, the obstinacy of my heart to never forgive them is getting more pronounced. It seems even if I pour myself into the glass of momentary alcoholic relief, my soul won’t settle down at peace.

The society seems to be on the consistent downfall in terms of humanism. Ranging from ways to communicate with colleagues to ways of being presentable in front of others, every trait of human in the socialized scale has been suffering setbacks in quality. How come has this degradation brought into existence? The slightest wisdom that bifurcates the ways to protest or to present disagreement and to abusively criticize someone has gone in vain. It seems they don’t understand what they are doing, is it disagreeing or is it abusing?

I had been clubbed with these thoughts all hours today. And I can’t let the one living inside me break down in tears. Because if it does, that would come as a calamity to me. I am that protective shield whose significance lies till the life it protects is jovially alive. And if it’s not, then for what shall I live for?

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Enigmatic

I twitch the bliss of the virtue

I cramp it hard with pain,

Like a curse you can’t undo.

I learn the bad, I overlook the good

With invincible force of the knight,

I run across the sprawls of the falsehood.

I only hurled Satan’s spell on people

I never uttered a single word to soothe

I am the murderer of Love in hearts,

Accountable for downswing of their mood.

In my kingdom of Darkness

I deepen the reach of the poisonous pool

In which humanity ceases to exist,

And banquets on honesty’s fuel.

Pool’s depth gains with every evil I commit

With every incantation I submit.

Like I am the Czar of affright,

I swim in its every inch

With all my might.

I don’t bear any physical existence,

I am just a fiend of dominance

Inside the hollows of a man…



Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Brain-sick's Diary >> In my year fourth…

Few hours from now, and our entire vacant hostel will get swigged in shouts and murmurs. People will be back. In this one month of training period, which constitutes an integral part of curriculum of WBUT for our seventh semester, I was in heavens sky. I love silence, and there it was in abundance here at our hostel. For no one was here at hostel, I had tight sleeps through nights. I read some of the best short stories by Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore. His short stories steered my thoughts on the road that I never cared for before. And in the folds of silence at the grounds, I had enormous space to let my thoughts plunder every corner of my imaginative world. Sitting by the window, and letting juices in my brain convulse to build a different world, were frequent each day. I even witnessed love, the one in its purest form. The feeling that I used to admire once, I could only wish for, now I had it experienced. That feeling is of ‘being loved’. To love someone is not something which brows up my attention, but its ‘being loved’ truly is what that hooks me. God! Bless me…

I am in my fourth year of B-Tech course. One year from now, and I will be a pass-out. Time flies; who knows this better than them who studied in engineering colleges. I recall that existence of energy in me and that zeal when I was in first year. I had several friend circles, lots of well-wishers (at least I supposed them to be) and dreams to accomplish. Everything has changed now. Or I should say they have got refined. With the changing and moving time, life adds various filters through which you sieve out many people. I was no exception.

Challenges on my way, and few trusted supports I have. I wish to keep up with the expectations that my family has from me. But I don’t know really what I would be writing here one year later from now.

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Rain/Rein of Corruption...

When did it start, how did it start?… It must have been initially a sole betrayal against morals of an individual. Gradually over the tides of time the spoilt soul would have propagated and infected other saint blood with its fangs. And the consequence is the deadly disease that we have carried over to this century, to our generations, and it’s certain to get carried over to the upcoming offsprings too. What disease is this? Corruption!

This disease, incurable in terms of any revolution that failed on its objectives, seems to have jabbed down its teeth into every organization working at present. This organization not just lies in the realms of society working under private or government ownership, but I am also talking of the organization that one manages within oneself. To me, a person is also an organization which works under the principles and as per the objectives laid down by him. The mode of leadership against oneself is however self-controlled, guided by the juices flowing in one’s head. We, the tiny organization carrying within ourselves, form the grass root level of any big enterprise. When the foundation is corrupt, how cannot the entire enterprise?

Each day starts with betrayal, with a sense of deceit somewhere. Look at yourself, look around you, are you able to segregate completely from the web of corruption? Corruption is like a big tanker installed at the city top, filled up to the brim by us with acid of mild nature but of consistency to decay us slowly. I am afraid, but it rains over the entire city 24x7, all 365 days.

Take a little time out of your schedule, and think of the journey you made so far… How much do you calculate your contribution in the tanker full corruption to be? We can comment, satire and abuse the politicians, but they are used to it. There is no good in doing that. Human cells get mutated easily, and so have politician's, and hence they never feel the guilt and shame. Instead, we should try to mend the loopholes in organizations within ourselves. This is the only option to work upon, and that can fetch substantial results.

Why is the life of human so greedy? Does human race need to start learning from other animal races all over again?


Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Chronicles of a Mermaid

Down the waves of Mediterranean

From the blissful eden land underneath

Went forth a mermaid

Above the trauma of the surface.

Taking hold of my hand

Salvaging me from the swirl of ogre

She led my mislaid consciousness 

Into her arms of trustiness.

In the blushed state borne in my smile

I prompted a question

Are you the one, the princess Silken?

In the strobe of divine light she egressed

She carried me somewhere

Out of blindness I wasn’t aware.

Who is she?

Is she the one my voyage was meant for?
...

My lips folded, and eyes partially lit

Tried to whoop the acquaintance 

My senses recollected bit by bit

But not before she stooped

And caressed her nose with mine.

The heiress of those sweetest smiles,

Yes! The lonely fairy she was;

The Princess of the sea!

The sea which inhabits all variants of life

So does she patronize my life sedately.
...

In thorns of seclusion, in deprivation from love,

My heart promised me of your existence

I never paused for a moment 

Being affected in perils of aloofness.

I have sailed through the Pacific

The bedlam of dilapidated emotions

Just to meet you; to be with you hereafter…

Sealed in her kiss

She blew life into me, heal to my injuries

And the storm calmed into bliss.

Entwined in embrace of love

Together we departed for the Promised Land.


Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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bon voyage

How clearly the emotions we remember, of those frightened steps that were hesitant to move ahead. That was the day when few timid hearts obliged with immense aspirations consoled themselves, and accepted what they ultimately arrived at. That was the first day when we entered our engineering college…

(click to enlarge)

I am in final year of my B-tech now. And for me, there has been a series of learning and experiences outside my textbooks. I know this would be true for my immediate seniors too. They ended their terms in our college after their completion of final semester, and have left us alone. I had been attached emotionally with some, and tied friendliness with many.  The most crucial thing I am going to miss now is I won’t be hanging around them explaining peculiar thoughts and curiosities that pet in my mind. Few things no one understands, and I never explain them to everyone. I will miss them who truly understood what I used to explain. :D

Whatever be your college's status, whatever curse you prize your college with, at the end you are going to miss it. I have seen them… not just through the moistness that prevailed in their eyes but through the unexplainable silence rooted somewhere deep inside. Emotions pouring through eyes are not as powerful as the silence is, and that too creased in a smile. Unexplainable situations, I know I would have to witness myself too. The one which is a year far, I know that will get closer in blink of an eye. At the end, we people turn out to be so dependent on the ambiance that prevail consistently in our hostel. When back to home, we tend to stick to the same routine, we tend to find the same people. Who is going to bang on to our doors shouting aloud names connecting them with girls in the nearest girl’s hostel, who will be there to quarrel for a puff of cigarette? Friendship is the last string that keeps you attached in your memories despite of truck load conspiracies you got to confront in your four years.

I won’t point out names of my seniors specifically because almost everyone had been very special to me in one way or the other. I got to learn something from them which awakened me from sort of darkness in different realms. Now me being in the final year, I take the responsibility to support and elate my juniors. I have plans for this year. I hope I will be able to execute them efficiently. And for my seniors, I wish them good luck for their lives ahead. And as Robert Frost had said, ‘In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on’; so lets move on, and pledge to work even harder in our future and march ourselves towards excellence.

Please do stay in touch!

ANSHUL GAUTAM

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A Kid Has Died...

Love is a feeling which can make you do things beyond your imagination. Even if you are creeping into disguise, you won’t notice it clearly before your eyes, as they lie veiled beneath LOVE.
While some take love seriously, others treat it like a game where they should try their hands too. This post is an imagination by me about one such kid, who faced mishap from his mate.

In a cottage at my nearest 

A wicked spell has outraged

Gulped into the darkness of underworld

Infancy of a kid has got caged.

As came the demonic blow of Satan,

The angelic cosmos; tranquil & serene,

In a wink of eyes they all have faded.

Fantastical characters locked inside dolls

Are lying crushed; dead in terrain of remorse.

Anthology of knitted stories held on the shelf

Has fallen off the walls of hope

Cascade of pages have come out

Sucked into the whirlpool of hatred.

Clinking of bells have stopped

Brewing is stillness

A frightening awe has evolved.

Out of scare frozen in my spines

I hurried to shut close my window

But before, a tattered note came flying inside

Inscribed in red: 'my love'
I recognized the kid’s handwriting.

With a jolt of dread, senses riposted

I woke up with pounding heart affrighted.

A nightmare?

Pearls of perspiration rolled off my lobes

Hue and cry prevailed in air

I heard through the window,

'A kid has died'.

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Brain-sick's Diary #4 >> Unusualness

Something unusual has happened. Something that is pulling me into despair. Something which is clenching me in the fist of depression; a depression of a kind whose origin lies veiled. Only my senses are reactive towards the rhetoric discussions I have been raising inside me. Perceptions I envisage is pulling me apart with a force that can uproot a living strong tree, that can bring to the grounds tombs of giant mega structures, that can explode away a town with nuke energy.  I don’t know the specific reason. I just witness the unusualness.

Interests are getting suppressed. Things that used to be my passion (which they still are, but have gone under hibernation) are also getting dim in my arena. I go through early pages of my life, and I feel surprised on the changes I underwent. In the isolation, in the separate space where I have dragged myself into, I keep juggling thoughts and beliefs that have burst out from nowhere. Why does this happen? No clues.

Facebook? Twitter? G+? I have quit almost all of them. I used to be one of the most active person on social media websites. Though I never run out of plots for short stories and poetry, but increased intimacy with the unusualness has slackened the will to perform, to write them on my blog. Why am I writing all this crap right now? I am only scribbling my heart on pages of my open diary just to bookmark this day, and when I will look back again in distant future, I will try to feel the worst unusualness that I have experienced. Why does this happen? No clues.

Friendship which is considered to be the most sacred relationship (I haven’t seen, I read in books) never crosses my way. It might be that I am very stiff at my attitude and consequently this relationship never intersected into my way. I have always tried to mix with people, tried to get to know them, tried to weave strands of solidarity with the people whom I connected with. But I have failed each time. Love? Does it exist? I have only seen unusualness.

This unusualness is intensifying with each passing day.  If I could ever get to reach its origin, I will surely bring myself out of this labyrinth, killing the evil spree to death. 

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Confessing Secrets

I have been admin of several literary Facebook pages which deal with art and presentation of artistic talents. Fortunately, I happened to be one of the co-admin of a confession page on Facebook lately. I am amazed to see the rising popularity of that confession page which is subduing the popularity of any other page on Facebook. The confession page I am currently seeing, where I was asked by one of my senior to manage as the admin, is currently getting approximately twenty confessions each day. I am surprised to see the number of likes which has crossed the mark of 800 today, and this figure was achieved within a span of two weeks since the page was formed. This is a reason for enviousness as I am also looking after my own Facebook fan page which has hardly got 520 likes and that too in this period of two years. Moreover pages like BCET Bloggers and Facebook page of our college’s Tech-cum-Cultural fest, which is being managed by me again, has hardly turned out to be this popular. Reasons?

It is the desperation of being pulled together and expressing what they never dared to say to the opposite genders. I won’t get biased on any side, I am just presenting my sole reactions on seeing the database of confessions we are receiving. And I can see, that we are getting equally sincere confessions from the both sides. At this juncture, I wonder, why are people so tempting towards spilling out their hearts about their love concerns? If they wanna spill their heart out then isn’t there anything else that they would like to share and contemplate about?

I get to learn something from this. If you want to get popular on social media then you would have to project your actions and plan your way out through advertisements in such a way that it relates with the 'attracting phenomena' of opposite sexes. And certainly yes, to a very large extent this is correct. You can see how almost every advertisements on television are now being presented and screen played. They resemble your love life somewhere or the world of your love-fantasy or may be about the broken love life of yours. These three things I should say are working as the three chief dots which draw the big popularity triangle.

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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

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Enviousness

I envy him…

The stealer who sneaked into my vase,

Furtively he lavished my flowers with glam.

With strokes of his magic wand;

Vanished my flowers; their essence scrammed.

I still care and preserve,

The leftover aroma in the emptiness.

I envy him…

As he turned into a giant black cloud,

Hovered above; embraced my love in the night sky.

A tear rolled down, and mingled with stillness in lake.

And soon it rained; emerged an urge to crush my ache.

But I stood low, dormant and lifeless.

I wait for the sky to get clear.

I envy him…

The musketeer who plundered into my home.

He took away all that was mine,

Sweetness on her lips, and her dimpled face in shine.

I wish his musket to kill me,

As her memories couldn’t help me die.

Image Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's - ViBGYOR

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Moonlight

Reddishness in the sky fades,

As the stillness in darkness ascends.

In the slight azure above horizon,

Birds return their homes together,

Flapping up and down their wings in twilight.

The calm and composure in the faint light,

Oozing out from clouds in flow,

Bathes the silent world with affection.

Its moon-face, a token of love for many

And a sign to embark into actions for werewolves.

For me, the face of moon reflects my heart.

I can touch my heart in reflection at lake.

A timid hush, as a comfort and healing

From the day’s tiredness is the moonlight for me.

Photograph Courtesy : Anshul Gautam's ViBGYOR

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The Open Window...

(Click on Image to Enlarge)

On closing my eyes, I fill thick brooded meshes in my lungs with air… I hold it for a while, pushing it a little further, until I can hold it no more. Freshness sprouting outside my open window descends deep down into me… Perhaps, its spring; I can see through the open window, trees ladened with new leaves and buds; birds chirruping, squeaking around in happy-playful mood. Jolly squirrel nests on the tree too, jumping from branch to branch. Sometime they stop by at the open window, staring at my partially lit face.

Can I be ever free? I have been captive under chains of my psychotic mind. Along every perspectived dimension in my mind, there jolts clumsy curiosity; the curiosity to arrive at a clue to freedom, a way to cut bars in the open window, to dissolve the tiny autumn within me and dilute it into the sprawling spring outside.

Tools made out of elemental love, I have used enough. Adamant chains tied around my torso don’t listen to them. In the environs of spooky silent nights, my imaginary friend visits me. He preaches to carve my tools out from hatred, assuring the success on blood soiled chains. Morally fed soul of mine ravages at this juncture; it still trusts in love, although yet to recover from past injuries bought in the love’s conspiracy.

The sunlight is warm, grazing over green trees outside the open window. At a certain time of the day, the Sun bathes my dark pestered room, throwing a shine of hope on my face. It’s the time when my friend in my shadow visits me. He shares his thoughts with me, conjuring me about life; What is life?

As the Sun rises up in the sky, friend in my shadow recedes, and he is away when its all dark again. He left me a note yesterday… When the Sun was bathing me in a spotlight of hope today at its time, I read the note:

“Life is beautiful outside your open window. Free yourself from the chains that never physically existed. Free yourself from the captivity laid by chains of your diverse mind. I am waiting, outside your open window….                                                  -Anshul"

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Brain-sick's Diary #3 >> Cold Emotions

I am swimming in a pool of thoughts. In a silent room, doors closed, panes in windows shut, and lights from my laptop screen is the only source; unveiling a part of my face, more of my hands on the keyboard. With denial of connection somehow with brains, here is something my heart wants to spill out. Its my birthday today. And I am wondering, why did the God select me for my mom. Could this not have happened that some other baby was lucky enough to get into my mom’s womb? Why it was me?
There are questions that are unanswerable. Then I wonder why do such questions have to exist, when answers to them are never found. My mind throttles deep down into such thoughts, mesmerizing me with unanswerable questions.
On my headphone, its Coldplay playing… 'Fix you'.

‘When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse…

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?’

How true this song is. I cant explain the sufferings, affection that got killed, in course of events that I faced and left them behind on my timeline. But somewhere, I lie struck in reverse. Is the past so dear that we tend to overlook the pleasant and optimistic present? The formidable past, that’s what heart believes, keeps poking from under the veil of sewn stitches. 

It has been quite a span, and I haven’t come up here with a post that’s significant. It was this song by Coldplay, that pushed my fingers onto the keyboard, and pinned down emotions of abstract blend on my blog.

I have been busy with my work, my college, my tries at photography and in mesh of complex thoughts. But I expect to come back here with colors in poetry… 

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The Journey...

Its album ‘Passions’ by Ghazal Maestro, Late Shree Jagjit Singh, playing on my computer while I am typing this. And the lyrics is conforming with emotions once I had. It was my first semester break, and I was going back home, in Gujarat. I had tried to cage my emotions within sheets of my notebook, somewhere which remains in its hideous isolation now.Then, I was different, from what I am now. At least I had tears, and I could spill them when I needed. Now even after million tries, I don’t get any. I wish, if I could feel light, bursting out from the complex lockage in my brains.

I was travelling alone, and I talked with myself all through the journey. And the reciprocation of turbulence of thoughts was imprisoned within certain pages. I stopped by at those pages today, while I was tearing them off before putting them on fire. And the pages read :

I sit still, and scenes through my window ‘pass’ by. 

Like projection of memories on walls, 

Glimpses of my existence in them pass by.

The distant horizon moves with me, like the ultimate goal in my life. 

Hills and its ranges, terrain rough and sprawling solitude pass by.

I watch as a viewer, terrains where I had been. 

Scraped pieces of my loneliness, my jobless thoughts in them pass by.

Rivulets in their topsy-turvy curves, 

Meeting and dividing; behold my soul. 

Kinships I had and pain of their losses pass by.

Away from solitude, my eyes snap at commotion,

As the city in energy passes by.

Of all few causes that put us down,

Million reasons to rise and smile pass by.

The obstinacy to laugh, promises to shine pass by.

The shine is in our goal, and the journey is our road to shine.

I still still, and scenes through my window pass by.

I close my eyes slowly,

Dazzles of glistens, sparks of enticement,

Fervor in my goals ‘waltz’ by.

Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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New Leaflets

Innocence in stipules,

The novelty in its shade

Pigmented in green

Lustrous in rays from Sun,

Waves in the air

Flimsy and translucent leaflets.

Born from the old stem

Brown and rigid,

Textured with experiences

It gained in a long time.

Leaflets breeze joy,

Pacify the previous pain

Sprinkling the newness in air

Freshening the surrounding

With ambiance of liveliness,

Like notes from sitar

Played in an early morning,

Solacing our mind

Healing the anguish

Descending into our ruptured soul.

Who cares, who plucked the leaf

Who pinned the giant in pain,

New leaflets must come

And breathe in life again.

The nature and its laws

Leaflets acquaint well.

Life has to move on,

With the newness, each new day

And prosper towards future

Till the pigment stays green.

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