Freedom...

Freedom... A very simple word but very difficult to understand. Freedom as defined as the state of being free or at liberty rather than in confinement or under physical restraint. In other words, freedom from rules and regulations. Freedom to do anything you always wanted to do. Isn’t that word magical? All your hopes, desire and emotions in just one simple word. But there is one limitation to that definition. It only defines of the sate of not being in physical restrain. It does not include the mental freedom. What about freedom of thoughts? Freedom to agree or disagree or freedom to imagine. Freedom to hope. Freedom also has different meaning for different peoples. How many times it has happened to you that you are watching a movie and your imagination leads you to the beautiful location projected in that. It almost feels like you are at that place. Or sometimes when you read one of the Robert Frost poem and without any illustration you can create that image in your mind and cherish it. I consider this more important than physical freedom.

Being free is really important and also very difficult. Everyone everywhere wants you to be the part of their mental space and play a role which can make them feel free. It’s like there is a war between people for his/her freedom with their own friends. The challenge is to channelize their thoughts and shear their freedom to cherish each others. That’s where the real meaning for social freedom comes into picture. It’s when you feel free even being in the mental space of someone else’s thoughts. Its real tough job but once achieved, can lead you to the whole new world. Imagine a thought which you share with someone and he adds his imagination to it and you suddenly discover something new altogether. That’s what the idea of combined imagination is. And trust me it would be far more beautiful than the world you have created for yourself. To explain it in simpler word, it’s like the world of two lovers who see future with their partners in it. I don’t say it as shared imagination because shared is something which does not have additional add-ons. But when we combine two thoughts we come up with one altogether new thought.

I hope as a free man that I’m able to find as many friends as i can to make them a part of my imagination. I hope that they will like my virtual world and add their own world to it. But what i hope that they will stay there forever. That’s when I’ll feel free.

A Story of an Ill guy in a Healthy Family…

This is a story of a ill guy. The disease he was suffering from was a Me Too syndrome. He was week and small in comparison to the big guy he wanna be. He was constantly reminded that he doesn’t worth it and should accept whatever he gets. He always felt all alone in his whole family. Maybe because his own dad disowned him and did not recognise him as his own blood. Everybody is just waiting for him to grow up and leave the house and never return back. They are trying to minimize the expenses made on him. Take everyone out of job who was supposed to look after him. Nobody ever cared or asked him that what exactly he wanted.

But what actually he wanted? Was he like this for ever? Is he the black sheep? When he tries to find the answers for these questions he get confused. He always remembers the day when everyone told him that he is better to his big good looking charming brother. When everything was not so scary. He also remembers that he never wanted to be like his brother at first place. His was skilled in all different things. But other than his own father nobody understood this and once father disowned him he was left with disappointment and state of confusion. A confusion that was that all a lie. Has everything what was told to him was nothing but just few words and promises which were never supposed to fulfil? Now he doesn’t know how to manage this situation as the future he constructed was based on the base of lies. His family seldom say that if he works hard he can be like his big bro. but he never wanted to be like his big brothers. He always thought that he was different and he believed that because of this he is better than all of them.

Now he only expect his family to just recognize him as his son. He is fighting for his own identity and is not sure that he’ll be able to get that. Let us all pray that one day when he on his own, he is not ashamed to be called as son of this family. Amen.

A Story of an Ill guy in a Healthy Family…

This is a story of a ill guy. The disease he was suffering from was a Me Too syndrome. He was week and small in comparison to the big guy he wanna be. He was constantly reminded that he doesn't worth it and should accept whatever he gets. He always felt all alone in his whole family. Maybe because his own dad disowned him and did not recognise him as his own blood. Everybody is just waiting for him to grow up and leave the house and never return back. They are trying to minimize the expenses made on him. Take everyone out of job who was supposed to look after him. Nobody ever cared or talked to him that what exactly he wanted.

But what actually he wanted? Was he like this for ever? Is he the black sheep? When he tries to find the answers for these questions he get confused. He always remembers the day when everyone told him that he is better to his big good looking charming brother. When everything was not so scary. He also remembers that he never wanted to be like his brother at first place. His was skilled in all different things. But other than his own father nobody understood this and once father disowned him he was left with disappointment and state of confusion. A confusion that was that all a lie. Has everything what was told to him was nothing but just few words and promises which were never supposed to fulfil? Now he doesn't know how to manage this situation as the future he constructed was based on the base of lies. His family seldom say that if he works hard he can be like his big bro. but he never wanted to be like his big brothers. He always thought that he was different and he believed that because of this he is better than all of them.

Now he only expect his family to just recognize him as his son. He is fighting for his own identity and is not sure that he'll be able to get that. Let us all pray that one day when he on his own, he is not ashamed to be called as son of this family. Amen.

A virgin is touched for the first time!!!

A virgin is touched for the first time,
Like his whole soul is shaken for a lifetime.
The next thing he tries to be calm,
But his face glows with a new charm.

Now he has a shining aura around his body,
Hearing everything but not listening to anybody.
To him everything around is meaningless,
He is way ahead from any pain or stress.

Melodies of violin and saxophone are vibrating in his mind,
Nothing can buy this feeling either cash or kind.
The beauty of that scenario is still framed in his eye,
Which is more beautiful than any masterpiece he could ever buy.

F**ked Up Friendship!!!

Who is a friend??? According to the age old definition, a friend is a person who is there for you when you need him. He is there for all the best and worst times, he is someone who gives u a push when u r feeling low. So a person who is there only for the good times like a b;day party or placement celebration is no necessarily your friend. He must be able to fulfil the second and most important condition of being there for you in your worst times. I always knew the half part of the story and was always happy to calculate my friends. I use to throw a party on all my b’days and give them a party on very small things and use to think that WOW!!! I Have so Many Friends!!! I’m So Lucky. But this illusion doesn’t last for long time. Eventually when the time comes for everyone selecting a guy who they trust most, my name usually uses to be out of consideration.

Peoples say history repeat itself. I use to be a very popular guy who like a phoenix was built from his own ashes. Back then as I grew, I left my old friends behind me. I created new friends who according to me were of my status. And if I was not able to make new friends, I use to impress them with help of my work. And they also happily came closer to me as I guarantee them some good work. But a phoenix does not remain young forever and so I’m not the one who can create the magic with my work. Reality is more clear when you remove your glamorous specs and hence, here I’m closer to reality and more f**ked up with the fact that how many real friends I have. Maybe it’s time for me to find some real friends and stop fooling around.

Bombay in my soule!!!

I don't know why i'm saying this. I know that some of my friends will surely bully me for rapidly changing my opinion about this city... I mean why anyone will like such a city where you have to spend half of your awake day in a train. Where you have to live in a small bedroom with two more room mates. Wash your clothes, dishes, and clean your house all by yourself. You need to take care of yourself as the city is tough and there is no space for a little cry baby.  

The deeper you look the funnier this city appears to you. Its all the matter of time and observation that how will you like the city. After few days I realized that the city has developed its own code and works according to it. It’s altogether a different code where public holidays are Moterman Strike, Auto Rickshaw Strike etc. Rain brings smile on the face of mumbaians. This is the only city where peoples get happy if it’s raining heavily as they will be able to have another holiday. Although they all know deep inside that they will need to work really hard the very next day to meet the deadlines.

But there are some deeper meanings to small little things in mumbai.
Mumbai will never leave u alone as there is no space for it. Everywhere you will find someone and that the best part about it. You will find that it’s so easy to talk to anyone and everyone is so approachable. Mumabi teach you equality at various places like share auto, marine drive and the best of all mumbai local. You can find a real rich textile mill owner, CEO of any company and if you are lucky you may find the person to whom your boss is reporting. But in train they all are equal. You can chat with them and discuss movies with them. Also even though everyone looks as they don't care, and you might think that nobody is watching you, the moment you need some help you will find some smiling face to grab your hand and take you out of the mess. Your roommates will wait for you to come and have dinner with them. Your boss will organize a farewell party and make sure he is able to come after a full day long meeting. Your colleagues from work will be your really good friends in not more than 3 days. That’s the magic which you won’t find anywhere else. That’s Mumbai!!! And now I feel that there is a part of it in my sole.

Living a life of Bug...

I'm living a life of Bug... Following the same track everyday... Always wished to go off track and observe things closely which I’m only able to see from distance... but this bug life doesn't allow me that... I'm always in a hurry... Hurry to work, to eat, to chat with friends, to earn, to live and in a hurry to get OLD... and when I’ll get old what will I’ll be left with? The money with which I don’t want to buy anything, the memories which I wish I could have created by going off track, the name of the girl who could have been with me if I wud have tried... I still remember the days of my childhood when I use to walk along with river to find the starting point of river, or the mountain where the sun sets... but I don’t remember the first time I got pocket money.... So why money is so important... why can’t we live without it?

Don't be Fooled!!!

Don't be fooled by me. Don't be fooled by the mask I wear. For I wear a mask, i wear a thousand masks, masks that I’m afraid to take off and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that is second nature with me, but please don’t be fooled.

….. I give the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without; that confidence is my name and coolness is my game; that the waters are calm and that I’m in command and I need no one. But don’t believe it; please don’t.

I idly chatter with you in suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing, nothing of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine, don’t be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying; what I’d like to be able to say; what for survival, I need to say but I can’t say. I dislike the hiding. Honestly I do. I dislike the superficial phony games I’m playing.

I’d really like to be genuine, spontaneous, and me, but you have to help me by holding out your hand, even when that’s the last thing I seem to want or need.

Each time you are kind and gentle and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings. Very small wings. Very feeble wings. But wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy and your power of understanding, I can make it. You can breath life into me. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. But love is stronger then strong walls, and therein lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive and I’m a child.