Giving Wings To Dreams

Alas!  We have witnessed  the extinction of one more guiding light ,  Alas!  We have witnessed  spine of one more  home being broken, Alas !  We have witnessed roof of one more family being blown up with the departure of a parent. Deluge of uncontrollable tears, helpless sighs and at times violent shrieks and at another moment hushed up cries have reached far and wide. Known or strangers, Friends or neighbors, Distant ones or kith and kin, Have been wrapped up under the covering of extreme sadness, Some have fresh and some have faint memories of the  dismal day of their own dear parent's departure. While others have phobia , a constant fear of silently trodding death towards their threshold. At such weak moments all logic flickers, All sermons fail to provide the much needed solace. "May the departed soul rest in peace", is a message that is received by the bereaved family. But only the Almighty knows that no words have the prowess to console the ...

Sitting in my room, Squatting on my bed , Digesting the fact that solitude if limitless is not less than venom, Staleness of the world was all around. Is there anywhere where true solace could be found? My thoughts were raging and roaring , The words of pessimism were shrouding the words of optimism , The words of optimism were as if hiding under the sad quilt of stillness. Loftiness of the vocabulary of thoughts pushed me out of the queer madness. The world of words was loud, Defining and redefining itself. I pondered how many words are piled on the humanity's shelf. Words are multifarious, Each and every word is a dexterous player With a specific effect, purpose and an exquisite role to play. Words can be cruel, words can also be kind. Words can be bitter, words can also be sweet. Words can be derogatory, words can also be motivating. Words can be killing , words can also be soothing and healing. Words can be devastating , words can also be creative. Words can be fatal, words can...

A slim sweet elf-like newly-wed Capable of stealing the show wherever She would go was in for her first marital blow. "My pretty doll, time to step down from your flimsy cathedra," her husband grinned. Pretty brow was raised and twisted in a pretty way. Her world was giddy for a couple of minutes When she heard the discourse that flew from her handsome husband's mouth. Up she jumped from her cosy couch. She was shaken to her core When she heard her mom-in-law's assigned first chore for her. A ration list she was supposed to compose. Now what to do and how to make the ration list ? Many times, back at her paternal home she had been a witness to her mother's precise jotting down of the list, How foolish she had been in never giving thought to what was included in the contents. Some how in her confident spree She began to pen down the so called list of ration to be. "Shall I check the contents?"  "No, need mom-in-law it's perfect". Newly- wed ...

Twenty years after.... The story still continues... The story of love, faith, cooperation, understanding and at times of misunderstanding, irritation and argumentation... Yet it is the most beautiful tale  As soothing as a refreshing gale. Twenty years after... I wonder what was the life before When we were strangers meant to be beads of the same string that are held tightly by our breaths. Twenty years after.... No one knows us better than ourselves Since now I, me, my has been drowned in the deep well of our life's story. And it's we, us, our for which we strive. Twenty years after... I have a befitting reply when being pointed that l rule you and which is that you own me. My chores , my dreams ,my desires are cherished. My sleep, my smile , my being itself is relaxed Since, l know you are and will always be there to keep me happily alive. Twenty years after... I have seen myself trying to curb my stubbornness and egoistic whims. I have also observed you melt down and devise ...

प्रकृति की छटा जहाँ अद्भूत अपार जिसका अचल अटल पर्वत चहुँ और से करे श्रंगार देवों की भूमि यह है पवित्र पावन भूखंड जहाँ श्रद्धा भक्ति की हरपल जलती जोत अखंड वो है उतराखंड। वो है उतराखंड । यह वो पावन देवभूमि  जहाँ ज्ञान का सागर बहे हर क्षण जहाँ चार धामों में बरसे श्रद्धा सुमन गंगोत्री, बद्रीनाथ ,केदारनाथ और यमनोत्री करें भक्तों का आहवाह्न। जो है सचखंड वो है उतराखंड  वो है उतराखंड। जहाँ सैकडों जीवनदायिनी नदियॉं पवित्र  गंगा , यमुना , मंदाकिनी, भागीरथी और अलकनंदा संग करती है जन-जन का अभिनंदन  वो है उतराखंड। वो है उतराखंड । मोक्षदायिनी माँ गंगा की जहाँ अनंतकाल से बहे निर्मल धारा। देवों की यह भूमि है भूमि वीर बलिदानों की जहाँ दयानंद सरस्वती ने राष्ट्रीय चेतना का किया आगाज़। जहाँ गाँधी संग सत्यग्रह पथ पर उमड़ा जन सैलाब। जहाँ कालू महरा , ज्योतिराम कांडपाल व खड़ग बहादूर से जन्मे देश के लाल । वो है उतराखंड । The land of one and all Where gale when blows breaths of eternal equality and harmony, Where Chaste Bodh monastries, Pristine Churches, pious temples and holy Gurudwaras stand ...

Oh! Pain can you tell me why are you so painful ? I know to many the very first line would be no less than nonsense twaddle. But l won't mind and to you pain my question would always be the same. Why pain begets pain? Why can't your topic if taken by someone under your grip be patiently taken by the rest? Why your mere mention makes the people around spin in a competitive race? A quest to prove that more than the one who mentioned your name whole of the world around is in acute pain? Why when you find a new prey, Why when you have a new target, People around can't act as a comforting balm rather than searching for testimony of your presence in your fresh target's medical reports? All fingers are pointed to the credibility of the lab or to the medicine prescribed by the physicist. The person caged in your grip feels as if he has committed a crime and gallows to hang him are readied behind his back. But there are a few diamonds in this world's painful coal mine. It...

Thousands of contact numbers flash on my phone's screen with just a click on contacts list. But, my soul yearns to dial that one contact number whose digits for me  and infact for all are anonymous. That one contact number whose network is nondescript. That one contact number which can never be registered or traced. Often l dial that number when l am lost in sound sleep, Even in sleep it seems my luck plays hard since from the other end no voice is heard as the call goes forever unanswered. That one contact number has ten or more characters how to find ? To which nation or territory that number belongs is Herculean to take hold off. That one contact number whose recipient's sugary voice in my ears always rings but owner of that voice is now faceless. During my ups and downs, Rise and fall, Success and failures, Pains and joys , l yearn to dial that one contact number whose  misty receiver is all over the place, on my every side yet l am so helpless and unable to hear that...

I salute my nation since l am a proud lndian. An lndian fortunate to be born in the biggest democracy. An lndian blessed to tread upon the land of the great hermits and sages. All the above is what we have learnt since infancy. But, don't you agree our India has still a long way to walk , If in terms of meeting the scales of international progress we talk? A question constantly rages and torments us all, When would we greet that golden appointed hour when our great nation would become a super power? Believe me if we dive deep and down, Trust me if we try to delve and draw a conclusion, We would for sure comprehend that lndia our beloved nation has not one but multitudes of obstacles. India our sweet nation has not single but multifarious challenges to brave and erase, To be on top of the pedestal to be one among the super powers. To count a few stumbling blocks, The first and foremost challenge that needs immediate operation is the fact that our nation hosts the biggest army of ill...

The Supersonic Train of our life on the wheels of this world is running on and on. Brightly illuminated stations are now and then arrived at, While musty, foggy stations are somewhere in the horizon left behind. Stations once crossed, stations once passed might howsoever yearn for this Supersonic Train to be back on their corroded tracks would stand neglected and ignored. Since this train once flagged off would never ever turn. It would possibly never ever return. To this train one by one new blazing compartments are added while constantly towards shine and glitter it is headed. Alas! during this upgradation process  even this train can't guess, how many of its old compartments were abandoned or removed on the heartless track of its journey better be addressed as life. The young engine of this train is continuously whistling and is brimming with winsome smiles without realising that it also has a similar destiny or fate, Like the Old Engine one day it will also end up in a junkyard...

Covetous sweet slumber why do you always intend to cuddle mostly when we are going through an edifying process? Envious sweet slumber you have become bitingly bitter by looming, by advancing at this hard-pressed hour.  Right now, we have so much to hear At this instant, we have so much to fear. We have to be there at our duty's beck and call. A third eye is keeping a vigil over us. Brief us how can we be on your soothing swing while ceaselessly we can hear the chime of duty deafeningly ring? This is not the apt time for a nap, Since there is no scope, no road of rest drawn on our life's hectic map. Covetous sweet slumber l have  often felt and heard, You have the power to make everyone's vision blurred. You have the invisible wings to fly. No accursed human form can evade your candid touch howsoever, unheard-of tactics he might try. Envious sweet slumber, You might question and wonder whether l just behave or am genuinely a bipolar? How can l be so dicey? Dicey for addressi...