" It's the same land, the same sky, but perceptions differ
it's the same road, the same turn, but journeys differ. "

Thursday, 6 January 2011


An octave of periods at school
Followed by grilling tuitions pool
Badminton and dancing sessions in tow
Abreast with every news, wretched brow
Ceaseless sessions of books, classes and training
Gulping down the knots of ache
A timid little child wants to think
If only perfection could get some respite…..

Mugging notes, penning theses
Grasping basics, doing lab pieces
Sitting through a tandem of exams
Sweating nights marked by tension and psalms
Sitting by the window, a ‘bright’ young mind wonders
If only success could get some respite..…

Rearing children, raising a household
Doing dishes, cleaning, meals and mould
Caring for and teaching the young, the art of living
Making love to serve her husband beseeching
Connotating with a machine, a silent woman contemplates
If only my rights could get some respite..…

Tackling the office hoopla all day long
At home, doing the regulars along
Many schemes, many policies, many funds
Redeeming future and building present bunds
Burdened with responsibilities, a man yearns
If only obligations could get some respite..…

Multiplying trends, prying privacy
Blooming fashion, abundant diplomacy
Dying rituals, dying culture
Defying traditions, falsifying propulsion
Astonished by the changing times, an elderly pair of eyes feels,
If only modernization could get some respite..…

Several scams, several scandals
Heinous rapes, undying crime blunders
Honor killings, fetus dumping
Corrupt system, burgeoning terrorism
Witnessing the grim reality on television
An avid, an eager youth longs
If only my nation could get some respite…..

From the undying glances and crisp ooh-aahs
Constant murmurings fill as the air pooh-paahs
When a girl and a boy go places together
They become a sensation, no bother!
Gazing deep into the eyes of each other, both try to fathom why,
If only love and emotions could get some respite…..

Toiling in the heat and cold alike
Laying the bricks and mortar on the road
Reminiscing over his constraints and plight
Wondering what the day’s earnings fetch?
Will they suffice the needs of his family etched?
Brooding in the daylight, a laborer gasps
If only poverty could get some respite…..

Sitting in a plush office, conference ongoing
Bone china and files, the table adorning
Away from home, lovely children and wife
Filing tenders in the business beehive
A rich veteran silently ponders
If only making money could get some respite..…

Racing to reach the pinnacle of success
Every man changes, owing to worldly demands obnoxious
Innocence, honesty, patience, all virtues denounced
Sighing, where the world is now pronounced!
Digitalization and greed rampant, observing, I wonder
If only development could get some respite…..

A thousand awry emotions!
A bundle of propositions!

In today’s pacing life, humanity lost
I only dream, how at any cost!

I would express. I would care.
I would give. I would sleep.
I would smile. I would dance.
I would love. I would live.

If only living could get some respite…..
If only I could get some respite…..

A man of Deeds...a living inspiration- Tiwari uncle

   Simplicity and sacrifice are rare virtues in present times. I find myself lucky to have known a person who has exemplified both these traits in his own plain ways. From the first memory I have of him, what I recall is that I must have been some 5 years old He is a tall man. Built - light. Hair - pitch black. Dressing - plain enough to be similar to the ones which our actors from the olden days did. White shirt, black pants. Half sweater to shield from the cold. Smile- as simple as that of a newborn. Language tone- Hindi with a tint of eastern UP tone. Name- Mahashay Tiwari. That is how I picture my uncle. 
   I know him coz my dad knew him (easy to guess!) coz they shared their trade in the force (IAF- proud to be hailed from that background!). As soon as I recall him, I recall his many children with whom I played from dawn to dusk, almost every day, until they didn’t shift to Subroto Park. They were three, no four. I was single back then, the only child of my parents. And together, we were a full army! Feisty, furious five! He he… I was too small then to know that out of those four, only two were his children (Archana and Ajay). Rest two- one, his younger brother (Manohar bhaiya); two, his elder brother’s son (Ajeet bhaiya, fondly called Lala). So he had a big family to look after. 
   With limited earnings, he dared to bring Ajeet bhaiya and Manohar bhaiya from their village to get them educated. My uncle is a strong preacher of education. He believes that education only can redeem one’s bright future. And yes, how true he is in his beliefs! A man of discipline, mornings in his home meant 4 O’ clock! Upright at four, out of bed, barring my auntyji, everybody knew just one meditation- books. They read and they read. All four. Every morning, every noon, every night. Evenings were meant for play. So my dear uncleji did preach a healthy way of life. After all, he had heard that all work n no play makes jack a dull boy. And he could never ever have made his children, his beloved children a dull jack or Jill! 
   I was in fifth standard when I first got to know that Lala bhaiya and Manohar bhaiya were not his children. But being made known to this fact didn’t make any difference. Both of them were bhaiyas to me. And the way they commanded love and attention at home, no one could ever have a sly hint that the four brother sisters weren’t from the same set of parents. Everything was smooth. And Lala bhaiya was a gem! He marveled at anything he did! Sports, academics, curricular, you name it! Always the one to be awarded scholarships, he was a perfect example for his siblings to follow….Manohar bhaiya was the respectable one who studied decently and went on to build a decent life for him. He joined defence too. A proper gentleman’s life. And he owes it all to my dear uncleji. Next in line, Lala bhaiya, placed in a multinational firm today, completed his graduation from IIT, coached on scholarships in Jodhpur, topper in boards; he too owes it all to my dear uncleji. When I left Delhi, coz dad got transferred, what I faintly remember is that, uncle had brought another child from his village for schooling. Though I haven’t met that child but I know he too ought to be a good natured, sincere child now. Coz the every environment of that simple household is godly! Everything in place all the time. No excuses ever. Studies were the priority, of course but no child was forced into it. May be the weight of being under the guidance and blessings of Tiwari uncle inspired all the children, who were reared in his home, to excel in the thing they were called to city for. 
   Last heard on phone, he had brought two more kiddos from his village! Can you imagine that? It’s heavenly! Coming from a man of this age! Where most of the people are selfish and think for only their family and children! And never ever could anyone make a guess on compartmentalizing the children. No one can ever tell which two are his actual children. Coz never ever has any child been left out or been marginalized. No child has ever enjoyed an edge over the other in his home. 
   And what to say of my lovely auntyji, who has stood by her man of principles like a pillar of strength and support! Every time my uncle brought a child, she hugged the baby like her own! Fed the baby like her own! Cleaned the baby like her own! 
   Sacrificing everything, their little joys of new clothes, new things, even a vehicle (coz throughout his life, uncle has been cycling) and probably all those little pleasures, uncle and aunty have modeled so many innocent lives into reinforcing success stories. Any child he brought has paid his/her gratitude in the best possible ways- by being a good student, by being a respectable citizen, by being a well cultured man/woman. 
   The very air of that home is placid, calm, simple, refreshing……. So many lives made, Tiwari uncle is simplicity personified in all true senses. He is a mighty soul, a prophet in disguise. He is a messiah for those whose lives he ensured culminated into well living. Along with this, he is an example for every person in being. Arre aaj ki duniya me toh log apni zindagi nai savar pate aur unhone ne toh kitno ki zindigiyan bana di…… 
   Hats off to him! Kudos to this man who has inspired so many people around him in many ways and continues to do so…..may he lives through many more years to come. And may all his children bring him back many laurels he deserves to be rested on……….may god bless him and his family. 

I wish to get my story published in Chicken Soup for the Indian Entrepreneurs Soul in association with BlogAdda.com

Tuesday, 4 January 2011

Life is Meaningful II

What is happening within?
Why is something shivering within?

A conflict, a medley of emotions
A kitche of feelings and shaking devotions.
A turmoil, a feud;  advancing and shrewd
Between love and hatred
Between fear and strength
Between sadness and rejoice
Between loneness and chorus.

My brain thinks, my heart feels.
My lungs breathe, my heart sinks.
My eyes see, my brain envisions.
My heart and mind, together take decisions.
Love versus hate, as I said earlier,
Never give rebate.
Why this happens, why these sordid emotions?
People here are born, people torn,
People loved, people snubbed,
People praised, people razed,
Is this why people exist, love , feel???
Heart feels, remember?
Sometimes it is devastated!

But why to think what’s amiss?
Why not rejoice for what is bliss?
Why stake love for hatred?

Be joyful, be strong
With every single moment dawned.
Don’t fret. Don’t frown.
Don’t lose hope, don’t be down.
Just remember,
I am here. We are here. All are here…and
Life is meaningful. Always …wherever, whenever, forever…

Life is Meaningful I