Giving Wings To Dreams

Authority doesn't mean barging into someone's personal workspace, Showing airs, carrying a stern face. Authority doesn't give liberty to anyone to be rude at daybreak, Forgetting all manners of wishing and greeting, Yet still expecting others to smile and bow before you. Don't deem it essential that everyone will obey the rule of harshness. Let others have their way. While you may be a believer and worshipper of strict ways, Others might know how to work in a friendly and sweet way— Especially while dealing with tender hearts who might at times go astray, And may have weird ways, They may also have adamant sways, But to someone, they are the most precious assets and jewels. Once in a while, a few flaws can be overlooked, Once in a while, a dish of guiding discourse for them without chilli can be cooked. Authority must have humility, Politeness and equality. If you are out to reform and reset, the focus shouldn't be a sole niche or a corner. Let your light spread far...

Someone had rightly said that life is a journey. Through different stages of life, one has to traverse—and mostly, it is a journey where one has to be all by himself or herself. Metaphorically correct. Now let's talk about it literally. Traveling, like most of us love, I also adore. During the 47 years of my life, I have traveled mostly from Haryana—the state known for the White Revolution—to Himachal, the state where Gods reside. It's not that I have commuted between these two states only. I am fortunate enough to have visited at least half of the states of our beautiful nation, India. But mostly, it was a journey by road. A couple of times, it was by train as well, but the number of train journeys that I have undertaken so far can easily be counted—around a dozen or so. And every time, there was a memorable experience. But today, it's not the journey by road or train that I intend to mention. It is the journey by air, which was once considered royal and very dignified....

Every beginning sees an end. Every day, year or season ends. Every meeting, session or festivity ends. Be it pain, misery or happiness that also ends. Childhood, youth or old age also meets its end. Life itself that once joyously blooms sadly at its appointed hour ends. End is for sure certain.  Still end is what scares, End is what is never welcomed. Beginnings are while cherished. End for some reasons is never glorified. Especially when end isn't all of a sudden. And, forces of nature have no hidden hand to play the button of end or decay. Rather end is more because of constant ignorance to the red flags. The red flags taken lightly, because of holding on too long on false vows and promises so tightly. When one fails to realize that one's voice has for others become a noise. When one's absence goes unheeded and presence becomes cumbersome.  When one no longer stands out of the crowd, But is treated just as an unnoticed part of that very crowd.  When the one's sweet wo...

A battered soul was entrapped in a huge hellish tower, Decades on decades were rushing by, tears would flow blinding its petrified eyes.  For far and miles there wasn't a single soul who could hear its pathetic cries. No bird of peace ever flew near that damned tower's skies. Darkness overpowered as impenetrable unvarying dark clouds surrounded above the devilish tower. No ray of optimism, could kill the unfathomable pessimistic murk, as in that empire of gloom, ray wielded no supreme power. Serpents of sorrows wriggled in and around. Wolves of fear and scorpions of insecurities frowned from every square. The ill-fated soul could barely move with heavy shackles tightly secured around its feet, With no anticipation of liberation all it wished was the ultimate salvation. There wasn't even a trace of a little bit hope, When out of nowhere the doomed soul chanced upon an unexpected miracle. One fine morning,an angel passed by that dark dismal den. Enroute to his heavenly abode,...

TRIBUTE TO FATHER IS AN EFFORT TO GIVE WORDS TO ONE OF MY COLLEAGUES IN DAV (ONCE MY HAPPY WORKPLACE), JASWINDER SIR'S FEELINGS WHO OF COURSE, ACKNOWLEDGES A MOTHER'S CONTRIBUTION BUT WISHED A FATHER MUST ALSO GET HIS DUE IN HIS CHILDREN'S UPBRINGING. I HOPE JUSTICE HAS BEEN DONE THROUGH  THIS SMALL EFFORT.  At times ,cold as ice yet comforting and balming, hard as coconut but sweetest at core that's a father's pretenceless heart, sturdy as a mountain an unshakeable support, rough and rugged as a road that for sure leads to  the beautiful resorts, Such is the beauty of a father's love. Love that makes no audible noise, That mostly abstains from public display of affection, But round the clock makes sure that the fire beneath the hearth of his home shouldn't ever extinguish, Works like  an ox, Doesn't mind what it takes blood, sweat or tears Every price for his little ones' smiles he is willing to pay.  Often misunderstood,  often underestimated,  oft...

Exhausted,  exasperated, trodden, burdened and beaten, Like the dumb driven cattle, Every living being is an isolated island. Fuming , fretting , fussing and fighting  Within and without for reasons unknown and forever impossible to be explored. Caught between the silky webs of right and wrong, moral and immoral,  the more one tries to escape these vicious webs, The more one gets entangled and trapped. Choices are infinite, options at times are countless. The whole world is as if ebbing around Good, better and the best, Fine, finner and the finest. Amid this never ceasing race Innocent hearts tend to lose all innocence,  When there seems no purpose and life makes no sense.  Pinnacle of pelf is when already scaled, loved ones are in every possible way for future secured and superbly cared, In the lap of luxury the little ones are cradled. Velvet road one has already traversed. Yet, something is amiss, When pomp and show of the world no more allures, Delicacies of...

Silence is golden, Silence is an indisputed lethal weapon,  when enemy is unknown.  Silence is unshakeable truce, when you want an unwanted altercation to cease.  The strongest prayer is silent. The sage reading of the human disposition is also silent. Silence for sure is end of violence. Alas! Though Silence is considered a precious asset  Yet  silence has another not so welcoming facade.  Face that is devoid of grace and  that has capacity to wipe out the goodness of the human race. Silence undoubtedly is synonym of end, End of the road that leads to good times ahead. While dialogue though heated is a thread  That clutches on flimsy hope . Hope that once negativity of battered hearts is flushed out. The radiant flowers of new and better days would be blossomed. Life is noise while death is quiet. Therefore,  before picking the silent ways, Let your soul one final time shriek or cry, Otherwise, you will have no choice left,  But to free...

The creator of the earth must Himself be amazed, When He would have painted this beautiful earth, And filled softer hues of multiple emotions in the human heart and brain. How proud He would have felt , on  weighing  His master stroke that was undoubtedly mother's selfless love. Love that needs no returns, Love that sees no reciprocal turns.  Mother's love of course is infinite and matchless, Like ray of light in the darkest night, And shade in the warmest day, Like shelter overhead in the heavy rain, And medicine for relieving excruciating pain. When the whole world unites to judge and criticize, If you even once stumble, fail or fall, Your Mother's love will be your strongest shield And would for sure ward off all evil eyes. Mother's love keeps her offspring round-the-clock warm and saves them from every harm. This love for her progeny won't for a moment cease, reduce or leave them uncovered even when the heart that's its constant spring stops to beat. When in...

A boatman trapped in the middle of a raging storm, looked pleadingly towards the persistently rising tides, vigilant to the fact, that from land he had drifted too far to expect assistance in any form. Waves after waves were touching the mammoth skies, As if making space to gulp and swallow the boat alongwith its boatman. Up there in the firmament gloomy clouds also appeared to be scheming that day, peering into every corner of the incensed ocean, to make sure to turn everything upside down,  to spare no pains in order to move heaven and earth, to extinguish the lamp of hope that would always stay lighted in the boatman's little heart. The lamp of light that had previously preached the poor boatman to spare no effort, to pull out all the stops and to be ready to move the mountains if need be, was as if eclipsed. Dense clouds were ready to burst on the frail watercraft, to dig the water grave of the God- fearing seafarer. The able-bodied seaman, beseechingly fixed his gaze towards t...