Showing posts with label people. Show all posts
Showing posts with label people. Show all posts

Saturday, December 30, 2017

His life as a Shadow

His life as a shadow… The part of his life which wandered to find its existence in light. Each day, with the Sun in the sky, he was there, with its intensity dependent on the gleaming source of light. He crossed by every road, and people kept the distance, afraid of their sacred quintessence to get polluted. The shadow knew the only sacred quintessence that ever existed in this world was Love. The love in people’s heart would never intersect the path that shadow followed. The shadow would contemplate, over-think, and when he could no longer conclude a definite reason, he would get drowned in glasses of darkness.

He felt safer there, in those glasses of darkness, as darkness numbed his feelings and prevented him to seek Love. Love is a thirst for him, to be loved, to be embraced in warmth of arms, to be felt over the hearty bosom. But who could have explained him, that shadows can never be embraced, they can never be hugged… While the cat’s crossing the road before sanity of love in people’s heart is blamed a bad omen, the shadow’s urge to be loved was treated as a disease, that potentially had the efficacy to disturb the balance of love in the world.

The shadow had a theory, that this world is fixated on one of the pan of a universal balance, on the other pan sits love. This universal balance is under control of the almighty, and love is a blessing that the almighty has gifted people with. Love in each of the people’s heart accumulated together, in form of a big ball, sits on the other pan of the universal balance and maintains the scale to neutral position. If ever someone shared their love with the shadow, the scale of this balance will fluctuate, and the pan where this world sits will be endangered. People don’t wish that to happen, and want to keep their home safe.

The shadow questioned himself, if sharing love with him endangered the world’s existence on the balance, then why not grow more love, the extra part, and make that for the parched shadow. He couldn’t find the answer, and he soaked himself in the glass of darkness to relax, to numb his senses and feelings.
The shadow feels himself complete in the darkness, healed, and relaxed. Though still thirsty, but he feasts on the never ending darkness, instead of Love that he longs for. The light discriminates him, for the odd that he has within. This is the story of his life as a 'Shadow'.


(Image Courtesy : Google Images Search)

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

Search for the life

As the train takes me through the darkness
My eyes search for the light,
To find in the thickets
If somewhere the life survives.
Rattling of wheels on tracks,
Keeps me mused and awake
Against the envelope of sleep
Embraced over the stretches of darkness.
Blindfolded on my open eyes
My ears make me see now;
Bridges, tunnels, plains…
All I hear, and in my mind I see.
But where is the life?
That, I can’t see.
I search for the light
To find in the thickets
If somewhere the life survives.
In sky is embellished,
Stars and the pearly moon.
And the rest is swallowed
In the endless depths of darkness
Through which I am moving
And in them my eyes keep looking
For if I can find light.
Who knows…
Somewhere out there the life still survives.




Image Courtesy: Google Images Search

Friday, January 3, 2014

Into the city that never sleeps

Mumbai and its people, their lives advance in chaos. Where is peace? Broad roads that never get vacuous, present a lively example of Marathon for life. The rich and the poor meet at road signals, and their meet lasts till the time the red is not green. Be it chawls, or the multistorey apartments, or be it Mumbai’s sea beaches, everywhere people are present in abundance, occupied by aims and goals of their own lives. The most intriguing thing about its people is the will to work harder. They focus on their goals and keep chasing them, and the rest they never care for. Emotions are present in them too, but the spirit to move on in life is instilled at the roots and that overpowers the pains. 

The archaic fervor mixed in the modern Indian life style at Mumbai, is a must to experience. In my three days tour of Mumbai, I experienced a portion of it. Presenting few of my amateur photographed shots at Mumbai. 

Monday, October 14, 2013

Puja in Phailin

Durga Puja Patna


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.

Friday, October 11, 2013

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?

Saturday, August 10, 2013

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?

Sunday, July 28, 2013

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

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

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


Thursday, February 7, 2013

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"