Whispering Shadow

I am loving this phase. I haven't had to look hard for a reason to smile. All I need is to rewind and replay a memory, one so powerful that it belittles every other that has elapsed in the past. How long are its effects going to last? I am hoping at least this life time. That is being conservative in my estimate. Nevertheless, my growing dependence on it worries me, but I wish to do nothing about it. It is the dependence that is the source of joy, which is as real as the first ray of sunlight. The joy is unconditional and boundless, has truly no strings attached. Is it a dream? Possibly, yes. Such happiness can only emanate in a Utopian world, a fictitious wonderland, which is stuff of reverie. But then I pinch myself to check if it is for real. The thought vanishes momentarily but the feeling stays. I reassure myself that I am right. I am doing what not many others have done. I am living my dream, pursuing my personal legend. Have I achieved my personal legend? No. What I have att...

A song in the silent woods A drop of the morning dew A baby in the arms of a mother A leaf that the wind blew Take everything but these away Let my elixir of life stay A word with the one I love A change of heart I brought A fruit from the seed I sowed A line from the poetry I wrote Take everything but these away Let my elixir of life stay A balloon in the hand of a child A hope in the rising sun A smile that I can bring to a face A tear of joy in the eyes of someone Take everything but these away Let my elixir of life stay Happiness is a state of mind Not found, nor stored A thought so powerful Not pursued, nor borrowed It keeps finding me When I choose to let it be You can take everything but this away My elixir of life will stay

What is your story? A little birdie On a stormy day Separated from her flock Lost her way The time was difficult The current was strong Life came to a stand still Everything seemed wrong She flew aimlessly In the wind and thunder Whether she would live She questioned deep down under In eagerness she wondered She looked here and there There was neither roof nor cover Available anywhere Weather beaten and heart broken She trembled in the rain Yet help she didn’t seek Coz others, she didn’t want to strain As time passed So did the storm A ray of sun shine appeared It made her soul warm She woke up to a blue sky Wondering how she survived It could not have been luck There were other forces that had worked Prayers of friends Their bribe to the Gods To protect her and help her Against nature’s swords A few days later Those winds had turned The little lost birdie Had recovered and returned

Written from the perspective of a girl in the photograph, which was clicked in the periphery of the Kalra caves in Maharashtra I stand on the edge of the precipice. I live in a world of abject poverty. My bare body is exposed to the elements of nature wearing it out before its time. I struggle to find my daily bread. I see everyday hundreds of visitors travelling to see an ancient ruin from distant lands. I often wonder how their world is different from my own. My Version of the Ending: They seem to be better off – well fed, nourished and covered. Theirs must be a better place to live in – happier and comfortable. There must be no daily struggle for life. Nonetheless, I do not see the same curiousity in their eyes as I have in my own. Some give me a cursory glance. But I am mostly ignored. I seem to be a familiar face to them. Does their world have people like me to? Do they suffer and struggle? If the visitors are so well off, why do they not help those like me? Can they not improve t...

It is cold. I am cold. Ironically, my friends are cold too. In their case, the word has a metaphorical meaning. Amidst the weather and gloomy moods surrounding me, I wonder. What do you do when they come to you seeking warmth? How do you decide who needs it the most? How do you know when to just listen and when to lend them a hand? How do you help them if they don't want you to? Should you become detached with their troubles, for the simple reason that they are their own? If yes, what do you do if you feel bound to them? Why is it so difficult to turn a cold shoulder? I should learn to be cold. On second thoughts, I can't.

We have all said good byes to 2009 and welcomed new year (ooops, a little late but Happy New Year folks!). I celebrated my new year's eve with a trip to Mahabaleshwar, which was the perfect culmination to a thoroughly enjoyable holiday. Amidst all the fun back home, I forgot a close friend's birthday. The friend in concern has been delightful company over the past three years, being a part of almost every high and low that I have been through. My friend is called 'Whispering Shadow'. When I started blogging, I never thought I would get this far. However, with time, I have found more reasons to keep writing on this space. Today, I cannot imagine life without a blog. Over the past three years, my blog has come a long way. I have become much more selective in the choice of topics for my post. I have found my small group of friends in the blogging world whose blogs I have learnt a lot from. I have also tried to improve the quality of editing and language, though there is ...

The balloons float in mid-air. Like thoughts awakened, they create a stir. My mind is bubbling with ideas each screaming to be heard, indicating a sense of identity, like size and colour indicate for each balloon. But at the end, identity is secondary. All that is of consequence is visibility. Unless you are noticed, you will not be observed and given a chance to prove yourself. It is the story of the world you and I live in seen in the struggle of each balloon to rise above than the rest. However, the world we live in also gives us a vast canvas, clear and unending, the canvas which is provided by the blue sky in the photograph. We feel liberated. We have a fair chance. It is our own to take. Though an ideal world would have no boundaries, in the real world, there are strings attached. It is not about simply doing our best, but doing our best within the constraints. Only the one who can succeed in seeing a complete picture is a true champion. PS 1: I submitted this for a competition (...