Oh Love! You are mine

I wish the sky to show me the Sun today; the sunshine of the first day of February that should have warmth of yours, and the clumsiness that your open hairs had on me. I wish if it could cover my face again. The flowers have already bloomed. I wish them to hold their fragrance good till you hold my hands again. My hands are empty though, but I know you would be holding them wherever you are now. I am waiting for the butterfly you always send, to let me know that you have put your face on my heart again. You had filled the colors daintily on the piece of paper with your lipstick stains in pink; and the nightingale had parceled it to me last year. I am waiting for if she is going to come to me again. I am waiting for if she is going to address me your message –‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

Though you chose to move away, I know it was not by your choice. You said you needed to go, but you had waited for me, I know. I was looking for you too, but couldn’t utter a word about you. The song we composed together stays revived, and it says that you are still here, in my heart where you always hived. This February, I play the tune again that you taught me on my guitar; and it’s my birthday too honey, and I am going to sing Happy Birthday to me myself, because you moved away so far.

How should I blame the fortunes, its him that made us meet; and if we couldn’t stay longer then I must not curse him for this bad treat. I know you would be unhappy too, because you had promised to live with me until I don’t leave. February is just a month, you made its relevance for me indeed. And at this note, I read your note that has your lipstick stains on it and it says ‘Oh Love! You are mine’.

When I walk around in spring, I remember to keep my hold on flowers soft. Tickling my fingers on the rosy petals reminds me of your fingers on mine, and my thumb caressing them slowly. I can’t hurt your hands with my grip hard, and so I touch the flowers soft. Though birds often do the chirruping that may resemble your scolds for me, but I miss the movement of your lips that I used to watch while you kept scolding me.
The tree with our names on it stands intact with his mates even today, but I sit under its shadows alone now. I touch our names engraved on it, and I recall how a girl proposed a boy- ‘Oh Love! You are mine; forever would you be my Valentine?’

[For We Have a Story]

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My Folded Tongue

Talking with people in general, and speaking in front of group of people, how do you take these two different things? Pardon me if I quoted the same thing and called them to be different. But I consider them to be two separate areas that have significance in each case to be different from the other. We basically do the talking with people to let them know what we want them to know, things we would like to share, a typical discussion we would like to hold. Keeping everything inside our heart is not an easy task and so most of us need to speak with someone. Now where does this speaking in front of people stands for? I suppose speaking in front of people is a more official template, where measurements of your flow of words have serious importance, and you need to clarify yourselves and things you are discussing about. It is a more responsible way to express the matters. People may cross question you and you will need to clarify them over and over again. Now when you meet your dear ones what do you do? Do you speak out as if you are in front of people or is it the normal talking that you do?

I had always thought I am in a habit where I talk less. Recently I have realized that whenever I started the talks, I kept switching in between the shoes of the talking, and of the speaking. Why does this happen that even in friendly talks, we need to clarify ourselves, we need to give a proof of holding the way we talked. I looked into it, gargled the jug full of thoughts and contemplated few coins that didn't shine. I concluded that though I tend to speak less, but I slip into the boat that sails me off, and I keep throwing the words with every push on my oars. There should be a proper proportion of what you need to speak and what you actually speak. We must not let ourselves flow by the stream of emotions. If your boat slips off the coast into the sea then you need to step into the water to bring it back on the sands. It need not be mentioned how worse it can be if someone speaks unprecedentedly. You can’t do more good to him by discussing more than what he expects you to do. Being diplomatic is the best option left with us to continue being on the safe side and to prevent hearts to disassemble. This is the professional way of dressing ourselves. And I am trying to suit myself the best way in my professional field. This is just an experimental proposition by me, your views may vary. I have guilt if I hurt someone with my over explanatory talks without any need at all. 

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Did You Know?

The more I know, 
The less it seems what I know.
And when I have known 
All what I wanted to know, 
I see there is lot more to know 
That I never thought I would ever know.


But I know, 
I cant stop; I have to let you know
Lots of things you never cared to know. 
Few things I missed  too I know, 
Where you are weak you too even know. 
And new things that you know, 
You should share to make us know, 
If we missed them but didn't know. 


Feel my words to know, 
how urgently we need  this to know. 
This is about the Knowledge my friends;
The more you know, 
The less it seems what you know.

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My College Life - Phase 1

10^th of August 2010, the day was. We had our orientation ceremony at college’s auditorium. From the next day our classes were to begin. I was late by two days. I couldn’t attend the orientation day neither could I attend the first class of my first semester. I came to know about that orientation ceremony when my mates narrated me later. Few called it boring, like every auditorium function that I am seeing since then, but few called that very much fascinating it was. I can understand; college organizes a function and that also to welcome the first years, so they are most likely going to like it, not because it is good at entertaining them or pertaining to their academics but because of the zeal and energy first year has. I couldn’t be there to watch so I shall not comment much on it. 'BCET' printed on a pen we got, and a letter from our director. The letter had a context in which he told us not to be oversensitive. It did contain few things more, but this very one I can’t forget anyhow, at least after seeing whatever I have seen till now in college.

That was not the first time when I was to live away from home. I was in Bansal Classes, Kota, for one year. Preparations and attention towards my goal couldn’t lead me to glory. I dreamt of ‘Kharagpur’ and fell in ‘Durgapur’ at last. I was very shy to accept that I was there in Kota when people in college asked me where I did the preparation. Not shy but very much shameful I used to feel talking about it. Now I have learnt to accept my defeat.  And I don’t hesitate telling them. It is not that now I have turned shameless. It is so because I have learnt to accept the truth.

There was one thing that worried me the most. I had never shared my room with anybody. I am doing that very well now. But then things were different; I was different. I was not sure of how I would be adjusting with someone I didn’t know, with someone whose nature I was not sure of what kind it was. I met him in the evening, his name is Sheikh Nehar, and he is still my roommate. He is a decent guy. I never had anything to complain about him the entire first year. There are several memorable moments that we have seen together, and we are still seeing.:)
After I settled my bags and baggage in my wardrobe, I went for a shower. The journey of 1147 miles was very much tiring and I was almost sapped out. I thought of having a shower. I can’t figure out what actually was over me then. I entered the bathroom and I cried. I cried loud in shower but not loud enough to get heard outside. I was missing my mom, my dad. I was thinking where I had reached. It was not worth for what I did. There were so many things for which I found myself culprit. Water splashes mingled with my tears and tried to lessen its presence, and then entered a silent part of me into me, that did the secret discussions whenever I was lonely. That silent part is still within me...

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The Butterfly

On an ivory shade with some brown threaded marks; masked is my body meek and weak, popped out into two bright wing arcs.

And on my wings azure, lie mustered shapes and some tiny little dots; some lucid little hills and some round yellowish sprouts.

I never knew how I looked and what amativeness I had, until you came into my life with my image in your blue eyes clad.

I surmise my colors are no more blazoned; I haven’t seen myself since you had left, my charm left too with my mirror embossed on your eyes pinioned.

Now in the silence of my solitariness few chirruping I hear; what do they say, I can’t make out its meaning neither you can hear it clear.

On dry tongue of mine your sweetness is still alive; a flavor not to forget from our nibbling kisses; the scent of your embrace around my life.

How we lived together is a distant memory dainty; my hold on you and yours on mine; exchange of our gestures in doziness of wine.

Nowhere to live I have now but in memories of you, and in all those moments where we were together-a colored me & a colored you.

Lie they say that the most beautiful I am, nature’s worthy gift & spring’s charm I am; Truth I say that without you a dead musk I am, a bleached spot with no shine I am.

And before I die, a glimpse of yours I need; my last breath shall be the aroma of my love, of my lovely butterfly.

(©) ANSHUL GAUTAM'S

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Shubho Sankranti

“Oh! Crayons work it seems, green white yellow and red; swaying, flying and quarrelling on the blue bed...Kites they are; happiness bizarre….”

Few days back, while strolling on the terrace I watched closely our neighbor kids playing around with their kites. With colorful designs, imprints new and their long jazzy tail, and tied with sharp manja everybody was keen towards the sky. Watching their colorful fight up above in the sky, I wrote a few lines and updated on Facebook; a part of which I mentioned above in quotes. I wish if I could also fly kites. I never learned how to, excuses for it are lame and I won’t mention them here. But by just watching them I feel it must be enjoyable to hold yourself a little high, and control your grooves with competent skills you apply.

Makar Sankranti is near. Not near, it is just here in fact. On 14th of January, we will be celebrating this festival. Another important festival of India, another credit worthy that makes India a colorful country. Color signifies variations of shades, a visual attribute of things from the light they emit. :) And this holds so true for India.
Makar Sankranti is celebrated for various reasons, in innumerable ways depending upon the location, cultural background and climatic conditions within India. It is observed as a harvest festival. Offerings and prayers to the Lord for the better harvest of crops is observed. Apart from this, Makar Sankranti also stands for movement of the Sun from Tropic of Capricorn to Tropic Cancer. In fact the term Sankranti stands for this very transmigration of the Sun. According to the Hindu mythology, period after mid-December is said to be inauspicious. No sacred rituals or holy practices are recommended during this period. Makar Sankranti brings end to this inauspicious phase and fetches good fortunes. :)
Happiness to have entered into the auspicious season calls for celebration. And to celebrate, the way shall be yours, this is what I recommend. :D However the customary forms of celebration include flying kites, preparation of sweets and several dishes. Sweets made from ‘Til’ and jaggery are known for this festival. And do you know the importance of Til? January is too cold and eating Til will keep you warm. :) 

We have given various names to Makar Sankranti, Lohri, Maghi, Bihu, Pongal. Though each part of India has a different name for it, a different taste to add, a different cultural background at play, but you know the fervor of felicity and happiness is everywhere sound and profound. And happiness gets more with sharing. And I share with you here. Happy Makar Sankranti to all of you. :)

Our family has something more to celebrate. Tomorrow, that is on 13th of January it’s my Papa’s birthday. So there is an added bonus for us. And while I was typing this I was wondering what shall I be gifting my papa on his birthday? It is very much difficult to decide. I don’t earn. And to buy him something from the money that’s his, I am doing no good. :(
Lots of love, and to be a good son is what I can afford with the best right now. 
I wish if a better term I could use for the word gift, if something special I could add to this;
That better I want to buy, wrapped with smiles hundred, a bundle to unpack the bliss. :) 

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My Weblog Splendor

I don’t remember when I worked last like the way I have been doing since yesterday. Fingers have seized to themselves and are not listening to what my brain is telling. And my wrist has turned even worse. The prevalent bondage it laid on the mouse is showing its effects now. And the eyes; are they still eyes? I suspect. But I am seeing, my suspicion subsides. But it has gone swollen. Sleep I need.

Actually the New Year resolution that I had recently signed gestured me to bring changes wherever there is stand-still. Most of them I have already worked upon. My blog design was what I had missed. Its design, the widgets it contained; all were the same since I formed my blog. And it is getting more than seven months of my blog’s birth. :D

“I shall change it, the design…mmmmhhhh….Everything”, I committed the crime to myself.

Changing the basic template for your blog is very easy. It won’t give you the pain that I faced. Actually the pains start stagnating once you choose to look for the “best” available “free custom“ template.  I went through hundreds of free templates; found them no good at all.

“Yes! This is the one”…I stopped somewhere. But when I loaded the template what I got was terribly bad. Though the CSS layouts were intact but I didn’t like the way my blog looked overall. I decided to change the basic codes of the templates. Thanks to my best friend, Mr. Google. He was always with me supporting me with cheats and tweaks that most of the time failed to impress me.

Yesterday it ended without any progress. If you call ‘a mess up’ a progress then yes, I had it a lot yesterday.  Few more tweaks, some more tries finally yielded something significant. I redesigned everything; from Photoshopic designing of header/logo to breaking the outer and inner wrapper of the main page; played around with Jquery and JavaScript. It now feels good that it is over finally.

There is still lot to say, but I bind up here. If you will be visiting my blog now, you will notice the changes yourself. Though it pained a lot, but yes it was enjoyable. I learned many things. Things that are part of my subject, but I was missing them. There is still lot more to learn; lot more to earn.

Pains do gains…..I agree. Do you?

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Tale of a Puerpera...

I was then inside you

You lived sad, your eyes dew.

I was to be the victim; I was a girl child

Going to be a dead bush, with Axe’s contrive

You wanted me to live; you dodged the killers

Today I am breathing; I am standing alive.

I lived in your arms always

But you had nowhere to live

I was smiling in your warmth always

But you were cold inside your deep

You were astir always

And me sound asleep.

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