The Window

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A window is not just a window for the admission of air and light, it has functions beyond that. If you observe closely, it seems like a fissure to a potpourri of myriad stories to expose. With that hot mug of cappuccino, you need to tune in for stories, the ones which appear as commonplace and nugatory at times, yet these flimsy stories become special and fill us with gratitude, when we realize how these show the ropes for a better acceptance of life. Sometimes when we are irked.

There are moments when we are so caught up in our own lives that we hardly seem to know our neighbourhood. Indeed we all are trading with severe tribulations and are gravely affected with the reign of all-pervading satiety and tedium, and it is within those moments of distress that in the loneliness of our room, we fortuitously unlock the window, hoping to get some fresh air. In an attempt to alleviate the troubled brain, we get lucky as it serves just a little more than that.

A little boy playing with his mother while the mother running after the toddler like her world revolves around him and the moment she gets the hold of him, she unfolds an ethereal smile. Wow! isn’t the gesture extremely gorgeous?

And then there is another story when the little kid has evolved into a quick-tempered teenager. He, who once found peace in his mother’s arms, now finds happiness and excitement in the outside world, a world which is unruly and cruel. Just at that moment you feel like telling him to not get carried away and be too conclusive with the false image of the world. Somehow, you are able to see yourself in the haughty teenager and it’s almost like revisiting yourself down the memory lane.

Before you get time to ponder upon how time flies and toddlers grow up into arguing teenagers, you find yourself witnessing another story where a man in his forties is struggling with the loneliness which has become his constant companion after having lost his mother. The creaking sound of the rusted doors is the only sound in his house, the broken window panes seem to be shattered already without a wind stroke and the cracked walls define the untold tale of his dis-favored life. He has peacefully embraced life as it is.

Finally after absorbing the gist of these trivial tales, you settle down your puzzled mind by deliberating a good deal over the thoughts which were obstructing your train of ideas and optimistic views. Unknowingly, you compare your situation with theirs and get an answer for what was troubling you. In the end, you may not be able to get all the answers, but certainly it made you know that this too shall pass.

Always remember most things will be okay eventually, but not everything will be. Sometimes we need to let go. Acceptance is a small, quiet room.

Ethereal

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When the shimmering beams of sunlight,

Traces its way down,

To the vicinity of their world,

Lightens up her face with the morning beauty,

She curls up in his arms,

To hide an unexpected disturbance.

 

To her wonder,

He holds her in a curious warm embrace,

Like a kid,

Holding on his favourite toy,

As if to allow no one,

To take her away even in those unconscious moments.

 

Giving away her chastity,

She hasn’t lost but gained a world she had never dreamed before.

A world where,

He stays, she lives.

A place where,

He says, she materializes.

A room where,

He orders, she pursues.

A time when,

He departs, she cries.

An abode where,

He loves, she worships.

 

The moment when she gazed at herself in the mirror,

She discovers how his touch has glistened every bit of her.

How his care has adorned her existence,

How his ethereal love has enamoured her disposition.

At this juncture,

She cannot help but smile,

And thank the lord,

To embed a gem forever in her life.

 

Last Night

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Last night was entirely sleepless,
A sleep deprived body,
Seeking shelter in changing sides.
Clothes of last night smell shame and regret.
Felt hard to breathe,
In hope to find tranquility,
Tired and uninspired,
Initiated a discourse with past.

Past said mockingly,
“You chose to walk away”.
Present said miserably,
‘Don’t dwell on what went wrong”.

A voice I heard,
Let me breathe a little more,
Let me quench my arid heart,
Oh night..
Wipe away these faint scars,
Let me sleep once and forever.

It is indeed a dark night,
Having lost all the flavours of life,
Emptiness is tearing apart,
Every inch of this existence.

A life full of regrets,
Is already empty.
A body without life,
Is already fire.
A soul without peace,
Is already departed.
A heart so numb,
Is already dead.

Gifts of Life

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Start your day,
With a beautiful way.
Poking the worries,
Which beside you lay.

Trespassing your life,
Enough of strife,
Caused you anxiety,
Now live with some pride.

Music is here,
To inspire and exonerate.
Friendship is here,
Feel retired and orate.

Happiness from every direction is calling,
Travel the world for futile meaning,
Live your moments,
Without looking for apparent feelings.

Destiny has played its role,
To calm and console.
Pick up the beads,
Let’s go on a stroll.

*Dedicated to my Mentor ¬†ūüėČ

 

Desert Coursers

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Adventure trips give people a chance to shun the barrenness of a busy life. After all life is all about collecting moments and not things. A lifestyle full of schedules and mundane tasks tends to deviate from the path of happiness and mental clarity. We are accumulating stress in all areas of our life, robbing us of pleasure and adversely reducing both or personal and professional effectiveness. It’s for this reason that Stephen Covey has dedicated his ‘Seven Habits of Effective People’ to self renewal through recreation and relaxation.¬†Goofing around every now and then or chilling out in the lap of nature become inevitable as we believe that the human spirit needs places where Nature has not been rearranged by the hands of man.

Being an educator, I’d like to call it one of those few advantages of my profession that I get such getaways or opportunities where we can spend some days in the wilderness and learn more from nature.

My recent visit to a very small town, Zainabad, Gujarat gave me a couple of good memories to remember and cherish forever. Zainabad is situated in Gujarat and is primarily a tourist destination. Mainly nature lovers and tourists of the world visit this place for it excellent scenic landscape. It was a very unique stay made all the more special by the presence of helpful volunteers and knowledgeable guides who organized the camp.

There are a bunch of traditionally built, eco-friendly cottages, locally called Koobas. Each of them have a small front porch where one can sit on a swing and take in the wonderful surroundings. Inside are traditional Khatiyas with super-comfortable bedding and quilts. These khatiyas don’t look it but are extremely comfortable.

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These cottages are fantastic for a true taste of rural life lost in the mist of dust and a continuous stench of mud. The stay includes all meals, which are prepared fresh on-site and served in a beautiful open-air setting.

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Desert Coursers is the premier establishment for birding, culture and experiencing the Little Rann of Kutch. A geographically unique landform, the Asiatic wild ass roams free here.The Little Rann also abounds in birdlife and is a popular breeding area for Flamingoes.

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Just around 50 km from Zainabad is a place called Modhera which is famous for it’s unique cultural heritage, The Sun Temple. This temple has resemblance with the Konark and Khajuraho temples in architectural style. Built in 1026-27 by King Bhimdev, it was partially damaged when Mahmud of Ghazni raided it. The Sanctum Sanctorum, was designed such, that the rays of the rising and setting sun on the day of equinox, fell on the bejewelled statue.

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The experience has been truly a fantastic one for me as it gave me a break from my routine mundane tasks and charged me up for my upcoming endeavors. Be it a ride on the safaris or just a stroll around the cottages, it’s great to relax and rejuvenate yourself by reconnecting with Nature. I believe it is indeed a different experience for all those people who generally search relaxation¬†in malls and movie halls.

The simple yet difficult lifestyle of the tribal and villagers touched my heart endlessly. It felt like a complete blend of struggle and satisfaction. I feel once in a while it is important for all of us to log off from our daily routines and go camping.

 

Soulmates…

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Love, Gratitude, Respect,

Might be mere beautiful words,

For you or people in this world.

As per me, these become my conduct

For thee, who is an honoured soul.

 

They say true love is the one,

Which is lost.

As per me, losing you is also love,

For I lose myself in you everyday.

Neither hurricanes can move,

Nor cyclones can wash,

Neither earthquakes can demolish,

Nor thunderstorms can broom,

What I bear inside me,

Is an ocean of sentiments,

For my honoured soul.

 

I may write verses in your praise,

But words can’t really do¬†the justice,

To a heart which is so pure,

To a soul who is so virtuous.

 

My playfulness often seeks shelter in your arms,

My heart drops its worries in thy thoughts.

Since years I have been waiting,

To mislay my soul in yours,

Whom I call an honoured soul.

 

 

 

My Mirror

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Your heart is a mirror,

Where I discover a reflection of my soul.Like a vagabond in a chimerical world,

I was fond of daydreams.

You turned those loony dreams,
To a direction where,
Those dreams became ideas.
Yes, darling you are the mirror who informed me,
‘Let your words be few, And exposures many.
When you close your eyes,
I feel my soul is sealed,
When you look away,
My actuality is squandered,
Your dismay,
Taints my reality and causes,
Disunion of the reflection.

Unsaid…

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Walking in the streets
I feel should I retreat..
The steps once taken dauntlessly,
Now feels burdened to move further.

Melancholy, Agony and Dejection
Are companions for the path to go on.
The woe is not them,
But the loneliness that follows back,
Brings back the memories turned to dust.

They say it true
Between what is said and not meant,
And what is meant and not said,
Most of love is lost.

Part of grief is
The loss of certainty
That things will be as they have been.

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I’m part of a rat race.

And I refuse to believe that

I’m what I am.

I  realize this may sound different, but

“Being different isn’t a bad thing”

Is an illusion, and

“Running will make me happy”

So in thirty years, I will teach my children

Their growth is not the only idea.

My children will know that

My aims are straight because

                 Running

       Is more valuable than

            Being the best.

           I believe

         Once upon a time.

        Schools were great.

But this will not be true in my era.

This is a profit bound society,

         Experts tell me

Thirty years from now, I will be on the verge of drowning,

I do not acknowledge that,

I will be responsible for my own condition.

In the upcoming time,

Running for profit will be the motive.

No longer can anybody say that,

My contenders and I care about teaching values.

It will be apparent that,

The upcoming generation is self interested and greedy.

It is erroneous to count on that

              There is Hope.

All of this will come true unless we reverse it

Note: Inspired from Jonathan Reed’s ‘The Lost Generation”

To Mother

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Dear mother,

Have never got a chance to see you, but this one is for you.

 

 

For the months,

You tended me inside you,

Safe, unhurt and sheltered,

For the times,

I unknowingly hit your womb,

I bow in front of you to hoist a burden like me.

 

 

There is a bond between a daughter and a mother,

Which for my life, I could not bring together.

Mother, till now I have never thought of you.

It’s the first time ever,

I’m truly craving for you to be here,

To hold my hand, to kiss my forehead, to wipe my tears,

Just like they do for all others.

 

So many things, Mom, I miss,

Your gentle hug and the tender kiss.

I can only imagine,

It must be an absolute bliss.

 

Wish you a Happy Mother’s Day