Unknown Source

I do not know who has written this poem. Unfortunately its not me. Its a sad and lonely yet a beautiful and heartfelt poem.
Here goes :

It's gone
What's gone? My mind?
Soul? No, I'm fine
Not really
Deep inside, something is missing
The love and tender kissing
She walked out herself
Now all I do is talk to myself
in the mirror, with my reflection
My heart is dead
Soon it will make a resurrection
Once the wounds heal
And I'm loved for real
A type of love I can feel
But nobody loves me
Nobody cares
Nobody loves me
That nobody is me
I can't love myself because no one does
I'm all alone and no longer what I once was
But the only thing that keeps me alive
Is knowing that the next day, it might all change
For the best
And that "nobody" becomes somebody

Everyday Angels

Do you believe in the existence of ghosts? Caught your attention, didn't I? The subject of spirits and ghosts tends to do that. It brings out excitement and gives one goose bumps. People sit around and rack their brains for the scariest ghost stories they have experienced, heard or read.

But surprisingly, no one asks each other if they believe in angels. Maybe because we encounter angels almost everyday. Only it is not an extra ordinary situation. Angels come in the form of any of us. Any other normal person can actually be your angel. Do you remember when was the last time you were really thankful because a complete stranger or even an acquiantance for that matter helped you, when you thought you were deep in trouble?

I remember one such incident in my life. This was back in 2006-07 when I was in college. I had gone to the old part of my city very unimaginatively called "Old Bhopal" or more unimaginatively called "City". Although the reasons that took me there now completely elude my memory, but I do remember that I was standing at one of the busiest road of Bhopal -- Bharat Talkies. I was supposed to catch a mini bus to go back home and unfortunately I was standing at the opposite side of the road. A bus came in and I signaled it to stop. Always desperate for more passengers than it can handle, the bus stopped.

"J K Road??" I shouted from the other end of the road.

JK Road!! JK Road!! Said the conductor, moving his hand fast asking me to come quickly since it is obviously difficult to stand in such a heavily moving traffic.

People who know me well might have guessed what happens next. I am terrified of crossing roads. However I tried, I just could not muster the courage to cross that terrible road. I would take one step ahead and two steps back.

"jaldi chalo , Jaldi" I heard a voice. I never saw his face. From the back, he looked like those 19-20 year old tapori boys who do nothing but smoke at the corner of a road and stare at girls. He signaled me from behind to follow him. Relieved, I did. He maneuvered his way through the traffic, showed his hand for one or two vehicles to pause for a moment and led me to my bus.

"So, big deal!" you think. He would have to cross the road himself. Right? I thought the same thing and selfishly enough, did not thank him. But when I still looked back, he was walking back to the other end of the road with same expert gestures.

I should have thanked him.

But unless of course , you have not had your hand squeezed blue by me while crossing a road, you will not understand why the faceless stranger's favor seemed such an important gesture to me.

I have heard many such stories from people around me. One friend told me how he was an angel to some one else and gave some of his petrol to a guy who was dragging his scooter on the road.

Rahul (the husband of course) took a couple to the hospital who met with an accident in front of us. (Already driving in a speed of above 80 kmph, this couple went flying past us when they hit a speed breaker they obviously didn't slow down at) He stayed with them for a very long time till at least the guy was back in his senses and was awake enough to take care of his girl and it was late in the night. (I am such a proud wife!!) They sent him a heartfelt thank you message the next day.

I remember another friend telling me how a cab driver helped her to reach from Gurgaon to Noida and did not take a penny in return! He must be God re incarnated because you don't find such people in Delhi. Talking of Delhi, I overheard the following dialogue taking place behind me in IBM's Okhla office over the phone. For heads up, one of the girls had left her phone in the bus.

"Yes, she is my friend! Yes!Its her phone." I heard another girl say with a slight rise in her volume out of excitement. She handed her phone to girl A.

"Yes, that's my phone! I am in Okhla. Are you coming here? Thank you so much sir!!"

Not only did that person return the phone, he personally came to give it back. A perfect example of angels around us.

Goodness has not completely abandoned milky way as yet. Hopefully, it will never.

Now I slightly change my question and ask you, "Do you believe in angels?"

May there be lots of love in this world!

Farewell!!

Good Byes -- They give you a pain
right in your heart
Holding on to the memories
While reality falls apart

Hold the tears back,
not just yet
Today you smile and laugh
talk about stories when you first met

One more moves ahead in life
You stop and think
its not the same still
it all changes in a blink

five and six and now five again
Story of the Army, of Us
But an Empty desk still sits there
without the noise and all the fuss

Now that its tommorow
I let myself cry
Although its not yet over
Its still a goodbye!!

Love is not life!!

I read Jiah Khan's suicide note today, not able to decide whether or not all of it was true. She spoke about how much she loved someone and how the someone decided to look the other way. She just wanted to be loved. She wanted a future wih a man, which she was denied. So she opted for an option where she would not have to face him , or anyone , ever again. Reading it made me think, is it really worth it? The answer was an obvious no. No! No one is worth going to the length of giving it all up.

Think about it step by step and logically. You meet a person. You start liking him. He also shows interest in you. First you meet in a group, then slowly you start meeting up without friends. You enjoy his company, his jokes so much so that you prefer to ignore many of his displeasing facets. He is a flirt! That is ok you say. He spends a lot of money! Who does not? You say again. He does not talk to me as much as I want him to . He is probably the silent brooding type. You probably smile to yourself thinking you have met someone like Mr.Darcy! Wake up girls! Mr. Darcy does not exist and your life is not a Jane Austen novel. We are talking about people we foolishly fall in love with. Ignore every shortcoming they have and accept them with all out hearts. Because if not this then what is love? Accepting a person the way he is ... right? Wrong!! Completely wrong!

Because we do not realise that in the process of accepting him unaltered we change ourselves completely! Our day starts and ends with his thoughts. The first thing we do is check our phone for a sweet good night message. We find none. We call them up only to hear their sweet voice and instead get to hear just the shrill ring from the other side. Life takes a backseat! Why didnt he call me? Is he mad at me? Did I do something? Say something wrong? Will he like this dress ? I think I should get him a t shirt or maybe that lame ass game CD or that costly fossil watch! We submit ourselves and then even when we get to see the real faces of our "beloved", we can do nothing but cry. Have you ever wondered why you cannot have male friends but on the other hand you would not even know how many female friends your guy would have? All you can do is speculate. "Must be just a friend!" "I am acting too possesive. Should give him some space" All you, my dear friend, would do is swallow up that doubt with a big pinch of salt. But he would choose to act possesive or not at his own will. I can go on and on about such "boyfriends" here. As of now, I have not even started to scratch the surface. But I stop. Because I have more important things to tell you.

I sometimes want to get hold of such girls and shake them till they come to their senses. What do you see in such a guy? I want to ask them. Good looks? Are they not temporary? Is it not the the heart that matters at the end? Why do you want to go through the suffering? What do you exactly enjoy in the tears, the curling up and crying all night? Why cant you not think of times when you had not met him and were happier than ever? Why cant you pick up your life again? What could be so wrong? He is just another guy not giving you enough attention! Why does he still have to be in your thoughts? He at the end of the day was just a human being and not even a good one at that! Allow yourself to hatred girls! Allow yourself to go on and show them that you have a life much better than theirs. Stop feeling like "suffering in silence damsels in distress" and saying "I am incapable of hating him." Instead go out with your head and middle finger held high and show off your abuse word bank to the fuck head!

Do yourself and your family a favor girls. Enjoy some more. Even if firstly you don't feel like it. It is any day better than sitting at home all alone and either googling about sleeping pills or strength testing your dupattats and fans. Nobody and I say this with all my Oprah Winfrey heart (because right now I am feeling like her!) nobody is worth your tears.Nobody is worth obsessively thinking about 24X7! Nobody is even worth a frown on that pretty forehead. You HAVE a life lady and please don't forget that. Live it and love it. Someday , you will look back and laugh at your Devdasini phase. Just don't give up hope until then.

May there be lots of love in this world.

Never fall in love with a poet...

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

---A Thomas Hawkins

Where would you rather be?

Would you be at home, cuddled with your Mom
fighting over a remote with your Father
throwing a pillow at your sister and laughing about it?
Or would you rather be sitting alone?

Where would you rather be?
on a lonely bench in between a green park?
or a beach with nothing but calming waves and cool air
Would you rather be running around
Living life on the edge?
not knowing what is to happen the next moment?

Or would you seek assurance in familiarity?
the same blanket of relief, the sanctury of home?
would you not rather be with friends, laughing, joking
remember old days?

I? I would love to be where the heart is
where passion follows and love leaps
where smiles are easy and hugs are free
I would love to be where ever you are with me.