November 12, 2009
November 11, 2009
Sardar ka dil kyon toda ?
It seems as if yesterday when I lived that phase of my childhood days. While I was in primary school, I had a group of friends. One of them was Sardar. We used to call him by the same name. The two reasons being that he was first of all a Sikh, and second that whenever he used to get fussy about our pranks about Sardars, we used to call him the Sardar (leader) of our group.
We ,in the group shared many tastes in common, out of which I wish to recount one in this blog. The roll no. of Sardar was just after that of the most beautiful girl of the class. And since we were made to sit roll no. wise, he used to sit with her every day. This was a source of big fun for us. We used to play all games with Sardar, pretending as if she liked him. But there was not even a single moment when we made that girl realize that we were making fun of the stuff. Sardar used to take our pranks as they came and never took them seriously at all. We used to consider her the queen of our group, because Sardar was our king.
One ominous morning, everything shattered. Just after we finished with one class , the girl stood up and insulted Sardar at the pitch of her voice while the entire class was listening. Sardar listened everything patiently and kept mum. Later , after dismissal, we came to know that he did’nt do anything that deserved such a treatment.
It was a matter of great disgrace for our group. An urgent meeting was called in the evening. It was our own favourite place where we used sit under a tree and drink fuity as if we were drinking wine. Although its impossible for me to recollect the exact conversation but I’ll still pen down the direct speech.
Everyone was sitting silently with Sardar more grave than ever and looking downwards.
“So who next ??” asked member1.
Sardar is quiet.
“Roll no. 32 also likes Sardar but she is a bit taller..” member2.
Sardar drinks the entire fruity in frustration and takes one more ..
“Anyone taller than our Sardar will be beheaded !!” shouts member3 interrupting.
Sardar looks up to see no one is laughing..rest assured ,looks down again.
“Roll no. 42 was a good choice but she was also giggling at that time.” Member 1
Sardar finishes the second drink and takes the third. Still dejected.
“So we are left with two options : Roll no.6 and 48.They are equally deserve being our queen. Did anyone noticed their reactions today ?” I asked
Everyone was quiet. No one noticed them. I feared that we would not be able to placate Sardar in this meeting. But to my utter surprise, Sardar looked up with his twinkling eyes and said : ” Roll no. 6 did not laugh “,threw his fruity away in style and blushed.
I stood up. “Gentlemen ,I believe we have come to a serious conclusion. Lets take our pledge “ Everyone stood up and joined hands. ”We hereby solemly pledge that”..” we take Roll No. 6 as the queen of our group”..”and shall abide by the rule that we shall not marry until Sardar wins the queen or a thousand years “..”whichever is last.”
By now ,Sardar was grinning and finally said ”The meeting is adjourned.” before we took our bicycles and left.
But I still remember the innocent face of Sardar when he was being scorned upon by that girl and ask God: ”Sardar ka dil kyo toda ?”
We ,in the group shared many tastes in common, out of which I wish to recount one in this blog. The roll no. of Sardar was just after that of the most beautiful girl of the class. And since we were made to sit roll no. wise, he used to sit with her every day. This was a source of big fun for us. We used to play all games with Sardar, pretending as if she liked him. But there was not even a single moment when we made that girl realize that we were making fun of the stuff. Sardar used to take our pranks as they came and never took them seriously at all. We used to consider her the queen of our group, because Sardar was our king.
One ominous morning, everything shattered. Just after we finished with one class , the girl stood up and insulted Sardar at the pitch of her voice while the entire class was listening. Sardar listened everything patiently and kept mum. Later , after dismissal, we came to know that he did’nt do anything that deserved such a treatment.
It was a matter of great disgrace for our group. An urgent meeting was called in the evening. It was our own favourite place where we used sit under a tree and drink fuity as if we were drinking wine. Although its impossible for me to recollect the exact conversation but I’ll still pen down the direct speech.
Everyone was sitting silently with Sardar more grave than ever and looking downwards.
“So who next ??” asked member1.
Sardar is quiet.
“Roll no. 32 also likes Sardar but she is a bit taller..” member2.
Sardar drinks the entire fruity in frustration and takes one more ..
“Anyone taller than our Sardar will be beheaded !!” shouts member3 interrupting.
Sardar looks up to see no one is laughing..rest assured ,looks down again.
“Roll no. 42 was a good choice but she was also giggling at that time.” Member 1
Sardar finishes the second drink and takes the third. Still dejected.
“So we are left with two options : Roll no.6 and 48.They are equally deserve being our queen. Did anyone noticed their reactions today ?” I asked
Everyone was quiet. No one noticed them. I feared that we would not be able to placate Sardar in this meeting. But to my utter surprise, Sardar looked up with his twinkling eyes and said : ” Roll no. 6 did not laugh “,threw his fruity away in style and blushed.
I stood up. “Gentlemen ,I believe we have come to a serious conclusion. Lets take our pledge “ Everyone stood up and joined hands. ”We hereby solemly pledge that”..” we take Roll No. 6 as the queen of our group”..”and shall abide by the rule that we shall not marry until Sardar wins the queen or a thousand years “..”whichever is last.”
By now ,Sardar was grinning and finally said ”The meeting is adjourned.” before we took our bicycles and left.
But I still remember the innocent face of Sardar when he was being scorned upon by that girl and ask God: ”Sardar ka dil kyo toda ?”
September 29, 2009
Happy Dussehra ,1998
Meerut , 1998 :
It was a beautiful crimson sky on the eve of the auspicious festival Dusshehra. However this was not of much importance for me for I was despratly waiting for my father to come back from office. I had already checked thrice since afternoon that the paper-Ravan made by me and my younger brother was still intact. It was 5:30 in the evening and my bro was still in his nap (that explians the intactness of the effigy actually). The moment I heard the company siren ring, I knew that we would soon be leaving with papa to see the Ravan burning to ashes in the Ramlila ground. My 6 year old bro woke up by the siren and joined me in my eager wait for daddy to return.
Soon we both were marching proudly with daddy in between and his favourite younger son clinging to him every now and then. Dressed in the newest of clothes we both were brimming with jubiliant thoughts. Soon we reached the ground and as every year, I was bought a bow-arrow and my bro a "gadda". He used to be happy with this but not by the mocks I used to pass at him at this amusing interest of his. After viewing Ravan exploding with crackers we used to come back home with daddy before dusk.
And now the actual dussehra used to begin. The paper made Ravan was assembled from pieces to make a self supporting structure and it was kept on one side of the varandah.Then we sprinkled some petrol on it. I asked my bro to sit beside the effigy with a mathstick and a match box. I myself stood on one side and considered myself Lord Ram with the plastic bow and arrow in my hand. I shouted " ready bhai ??" Bhai blinked "Yes". I closed my eyes to take a solemn oath before aiming at Ravan. Then aimed and shot the arrow. But to my utter dismay , Bhai dint struck the match stick and was still trying...i screamed "Machis to jala gadhe k bache (without thinking of the meaning of the slang)" .
We started all over again. I closed my eyes patiently. But this time I heard the match stick struck before i could aim and shoot. The effigy was blazzing with fire. Entire plan was spoiled. And my bhai (as every year) grinned at me and said "Bhaiya khatam kar diya Ravan ko :)". I had no option but to helplessly aim at the burning effigy , shoot at it, find that the arrow actually hitting the tub and finally shout "Happy Dussehra".
It was a beautiful crimson sky on the eve of the auspicious festival Dusshehra. However this was not of much importance for me for I was despratly waiting for my father to come back from office. I had already checked thrice since afternoon that the paper-Ravan made by me and my younger brother was still intact. It was 5:30 in the evening and my bro was still in his nap (that explians the intactness of the effigy actually). The moment I heard the company siren ring, I knew that we would soon be leaving with papa to see the Ravan burning to ashes in the Ramlila ground. My 6 year old bro woke up by the siren and joined me in my eager wait for daddy to return.
Soon we both were marching proudly with daddy in between and his favourite younger son clinging to him every now and then. Dressed in the newest of clothes we both were brimming with jubiliant thoughts. Soon we reached the ground and as every year, I was bought a bow-arrow and my bro a "gadda". He used to be happy with this but not by the mocks I used to pass at him at this amusing interest of his. After viewing Ravan exploding with crackers we used to come back home with daddy before dusk.
And now the actual dussehra used to begin. The paper made Ravan was assembled from pieces to make a self supporting structure and it was kept on one side of the varandah.Then we sprinkled some petrol on it. I asked my bro to sit beside the effigy with a mathstick and a match box. I myself stood on one side and considered myself Lord Ram with the plastic bow and arrow in my hand. I shouted " ready bhai ??" Bhai blinked "Yes". I closed my eyes to take a solemn oath before aiming at Ravan. Then aimed and shot the arrow. But to my utter dismay , Bhai dint struck the match stick and was still trying...i screamed "Machis to jala gadhe k bache (without thinking of the meaning of the slang)" .
We started all over again. I closed my eyes patiently. But this time I heard the match stick struck before i could aim and shoot. The effigy was blazzing with fire. Entire plan was spoiled. And my bhai (as every year) grinned at me and said "Bhaiya khatam kar diya Ravan ko :)". I had no option but to helplessly aim at the burning effigy , shoot at it, find that the arrow actually hitting the tub and finally shout "Happy Dussehra".
September 12, 2009
A unique road chosen by you
There is a unique road that every person choses to take by his own will. This beautiful road leads to the destination of completeness : a unique feeling longed to be cherished by every soul.
When a person puts his first step on this road, he finds himself in a heavenly world. He finds himself blessed by Almighty. The road seems to him an endless journey he never wishes to complete. A new thrust enfills his sublimed desires and he walks on. He finds beautiful orchards and daisy flowers, primroses and flying larks..all welcoming him in his path. He finds himself alone cherishing all these pleasures (inspite of the fact that many others are also walking by him). He is the happiest person on Earth, if not in the Universe.
God forbid, but if he stumbles in the middle and chooses to turn back....here is where all laws of science fail to hold. The same road becomes a drench of swamp. The same ecstatic world becomes a Hell on Earth. The same blessing becomes a curse. The thrust becomes a sore. Orchards become dense marshes, Daisy's turn into Thorny bushes, primroses shed their petals and larks become mere caracases. It is this time that he starts seeing people passing by him and traeding the same beautifull road, which was once his own. When he finally comes back to the starting point of that same road, he never forgets to turn back and smile.
When a person puts his first step on this road, he finds himself in a heavenly world. He finds himself blessed by Almighty. The road seems to him an endless journey he never wishes to complete. A new thrust enfills his sublimed desires and he walks on. He finds beautiful orchards and daisy flowers, primroses and flying larks..all welcoming him in his path. He finds himself alone cherishing all these pleasures (inspite of the fact that many others are also walking by him). He is the happiest person on Earth, if not in the Universe.
God forbid, but if he stumbles in the middle and chooses to turn back....here is where all laws of science fail to hold. The same road becomes a drench of swamp. The same ecstatic world becomes a Hell on Earth. The same blessing becomes a curse. The thrust becomes a sore. Orchards become dense marshes, Daisy's turn into Thorny bushes, primroses shed their petals and larks become mere caracases. It is this time that he starts seeing people passing by him and traeding the same beautifull road, which was once his own. When he finally comes back to the starting point of that same road, he never forgets to turn back and smile.
For all those ... !!
For all those who dream with open eyes and open mouths, for all those who tend to take things a bit more sentimentally, for all those who come out of a chat thinking "Is she not more than a friend??", for all those about to hear a "I always considered you a good friend" , for all those who tend to touch the finish lines before starting the race and for all those who stumble in the eandevour,, their well-wisher has a message to convey...
I believe in a theory which goes as follows:
I can divide the entire realm of your dream-world into two groups of people. Group A and B.
Group A consists of people exactly like you, sitting infront of the screen with dreamy eyes and may be ,thinking good of someone else. People of this group are very innocent in their thoughts and actions (no matter how much experienced they pretend). They mostly dont apply brains in cases involving involvement !!( I hope you get me ). They consider LOVE as the greatest blessing of God and take it as sacredly as it really is. They are ready by heart to cross all
boundaries for the sake of this cardinal blessing of God. The only organ left working with them is their own innocent heart which pumps more of love than blood. And as it does, they consider themselves the masters of the Human race. :)
But but but...Group B is different genre. It consists of people who ,( you would not believe ) are walking one step ahead of Group A. They symbolise ambition. They hardly connect any involvement with their heart ,instead take pride in using their brains in such cases. They very well know the characteristics of Group A and pretend to be one belonging to their Group. But they actually know what's actually happening. They play a real game by the name of Love. They find partners , not soulmates. Trap someone in the name of love who actually deserved a better them. I would not typify, but many of the "appear to be inncoent" girls tend to belong to this group. The only organ working with them is thier profit-seeking brain which ofcourse is the master of all organs and ultimatly wins the game.
I know you must be yawning by now thinking what this idiot is to do with theories like this, as if you could utilise this time in some more daydreaming. Is'nt it ??
My objective is one : I want to keep A segregated from B, i want to keep A informed that B exists in their realm, i want to let A choose just A and i want B to ultimatly become A, so that my own theory is contradicted that only A exists. I'll prey to God for such a time to come....meanwhile you can choose your A's from your sweet world and continue dreaming.
Hey ,wish you good luck !!
Yours forever,
A
I believe in a theory which goes as follows:
I can divide the entire realm of your dream-world into two groups of people. Group A and B.
Group A consists of people exactly like you, sitting infront of the screen with dreamy eyes and may be ,thinking good of someone else. People of this group are very innocent in their thoughts and actions (no matter how much experienced they pretend). They mostly dont apply brains in cases involving involvement !!( I hope you get me ). They consider LOVE as the greatest blessing of God and take it as sacredly as it really is. They are ready by heart to cross all
boundaries for the sake of this cardinal blessing of God. The only organ left working with them is their own innocent heart which pumps more of love than blood. And as it does, they consider themselves the masters of the Human race. :)
But but but...Group B is different genre. It consists of people who ,( you would not believe ) are walking one step ahead of Group A. They symbolise ambition. They hardly connect any involvement with their heart ,instead take pride in using their brains in such cases. They very well know the characteristics of Group A and pretend to be one belonging to their Group. But they actually know what's actually happening. They play a real game by the name of Love. They find partners , not soulmates. Trap someone in the name of love who actually deserved a better them. I would not typify, but many of the "appear to be inncoent" girls tend to belong to this group. The only organ working with them is thier profit-seeking brain which ofcourse is the master of all organs and ultimatly wins the game.
I know you must be yawning by now thinking what this idiot is to do with theories like this, as if you could utilise this time in some more daydreaming. Is'nt it ??
My objective is one : I want to keep A segregated from B, i want to keep A informed that B exists in their realm, i want to let A choose just A and i want B to ultimatly become A, so that my own theory is contradicted that only A exists. I'll prey to God for such a time to come....meanwhile you can choose your A's from your sweet world and continue dreaming.
Hey ,wish you good luck !!
Yours forever,
A
Rajarshi - The Origin
Rajarshi Vishvamitra was a king in ancient India. He was a valiant warrior and the great-grandson of a great king named Kusha. Vishvamitra ruled the earth, and this great-resplendent king ruled the kingdom for many thousands of years. The Puranas mention that only 24 Rishis since antiquity have understood the whole meaning of, and thus wielded the whole power of, the Gayatri Mantra. Sage Vishvamitra is supposed to be the first.
In one of the incidents in his life, he was left humiliated by a great saint Vasishta. He realized that the power obtained by penances was far greater than mere physical might. He renounced his kingdom and began his quest to become a greater rishi than Vasishta. He undertakes a fierce penance for one thousand years, after which Brahma names him a Rajarshi, or royal sage.
At this point, Indra, the king of Swarga attempts to break his tapasya by sending Menaka, the most beautiful apsara of his kingdom. After many years of self-control, Rajarshi awakes out of his reverie, and falls in love with her. He was completely kept in trust by Menaka before she finally tells him the truth of the plot and leaves back to Swarga. Rajarshi was deeply hurt by this incident of his life. His love and dedication is still considered as an epitome of intense and passionate feelings beyond estimation ; and beyond all boundaries of time......
In one of the incidents in his life, he was left humiliated by a great saint Vasishta. He realized that the power obtained by penances was far greater than mere physical might. He renounced his kingdom and began his quest to become a greater rishi than Vasishta. He undertakes a fierce penance for one thousand years, after which Brahma names him a Rajarshi, or royal sage.
At this point, Indra, the king of Swarga attempts to break his tapasya by sending Menaka, the most beautiful apsara of his kingdom. After many years of self-control, Rajarshi awakes out of his reverie, and falls in love with her. He was completely kept in trust by Menaka before she finally tells him the truth of the plot and leaves back to Swarga. Rajarshi was deeply hurt by this incident of his life. His love and dedication is still considered as an epitome of intense and passionate feelings beyond estimation ; and beyond all boundaries of time......
February 26, 2009
Even they breathe like you !!
It was dusk time. Resting on the lawn of my campus, i got a rare chance to secretly cherish the conversation of two love mates......
y : "you remember what day is it tomorrow ??"
x : "i do remember dear...we met first time on this day!!"
y : "and what are you going to do for me on this special day ?"
x : "hey anything for you dearest.. do u expect something from me tomorrow."
y : "i fear it won't be possible for you !!"
x : "oh definitly i'll try my best..say it please."
y : "i wish you come all the way to meet me. I fear it wont be possible for you..."
x : "i know it would be very tough for me to come close to you ..... ( a long pause ).. but i'll try to make it to my best"
y : "(anxious) But hh how on earth can you do this ? Its so impossible for you to ....."
x : "i'll definitly come to meet you dear.i'll start moving early morning.i'll follow the Sun and try my best. don't worry..have faith in our love."
y : "before we close our eyes to sleep, give me a word that u'll meet me tomorrow."
x : "yes we'll do. But for that word , do remember one thing forever dear-EVEN IF WE ARE UNABLE TO MEET THE NEXT DAY, EVEN IF I TRY HARD AND ULTIMATELY BRAEK MIDWAY..U WILL BE AS CHEARFULL AS EVER AND KEEP SPREADING THE MESSAGE OF LOVE."
y : "i'll always remember dear. i will wait for you eagerly."
I was anxious to see what happens next morning. I got up before dawn and waited at that same place to see what happens..to ultimatly see an enthrilled boy, hopping and jumping on the steps of his own music. I could guess his spirits of joy and determination. In his own fantasy,he jumped and leaned towards me,,thrashed his arm in the bush and plucked a flower and passed by.
A drop trickled from my eyes to see "y" in his hand... and "x" still blooming in the lawn.
y : "you remember what day is it tomorrow ??"
x : "i do remember dear...we met first time on this day!!"
y : "and what are you going to do for me on this special day ?"
x : "hey anything for you dearest.. do u expect something from me tomorrow."
y : "i fear it won't be possible for you !!"
x : "oh definitly i'll try my best..say it please."
y : "i wish you come all the way to meet me. I fear it wont be possible for you..."
x : "i know it would be very tough for me to come close to you ..... ( a long pause ).. but i'll try to make it to my best"
y : "(anxious) But hh how on earth can you do this ? Its so impossible for you to ....."
x : "i'll definitly come to meet you dear.i'll start moving early morning.i'll follow the Sun and try my best. don't worry..have faith in our love."
y : "before we close our eyes to sleep, give me a word that u'll meet me tomorrow."
x : "yes we'll do. But for that word , do remember one thing forever dear-EVEN IF WE ARE UNABLE TO MEET THE NEXT DAY, EVEN IF I TRY HARD AND ULTIMATELY BRAEK MIDWAY..U WILL BE AS CHEARFULL AS EVER AND KEEP SPREADING THE MESSAGE OF LOVE."
y : "i'll always remember dear. i will wait for you eagerly."
I was anxious to see what happens next morning. I got up before dawn and waited at that same place to see what happens..to ultimatly see an enthrilled boy, hopping and jumping on the steps of his own music. I could guess his spirits of joy and determination. In his own fantasy,he jumped and leaned towards me,,thrashed his arm in the bush and plucked a flower and passed by.
A drop trickled from my eyes to see "y" in his hand... and "x" still blooming in the lawn.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.jpg)
