In continuation of Vagabond..
A mystic is a concealer by nature. But, what does a mystic conceal? Answers. Continue reading
A vagabond is a person who has no fixed address.
Hmm, sounds like myself. Continue reading
‘I didn’t mean to tear apart his earlobe!’ I said to my cousin.
‘Oh comeon! You continuously hit him right on his ear!’ He said, reminding me that it was me who was in trouble, yet again.
‘So, what do we do now?’ I asked my cousin who was equally terrified.
‘Let’s go to Nowshera I say, without telling anyone. There would be no way for them to know we are there. Dada doesn’t have a telephone at his home’, he said.
Kya lekar tu aaya tha, kya lekar tu jaayega, Clap. Clap. Clap.
Jis tan mein tu aaya hai, woh bhi yahin jal jaayega Clap. Clap. Clap.
The loud singing of the old man wakes me up every morning before my phone’s alarm goes off. I spend a good half hour lying on my mattress, listening to his thought provoking songs on the rhythm of his clap beats. He invests such power in his tone, it makes no difference that he is singing outside his shop and I am in my room near the balcony of the fourth floor. Ninety minutes later, when I step down to begin my thirty minute walk to office, he is still singing. Continue reading
Many stories begin when we decide to pay attention towards something that is awkward and out of the normal. This one is no different. This is the story of a girl. Or perhaps I should say this is the story of a father. I tend to change my stance because we are, at birth, equal halves of both of our parents. With time, the one parent who inspires us more, takes over the other half part, carves our identity and makes us a certain person for the rest of our lives. The same happened with the girl whose story I am going to tell you now. Her father used to tell her everyday that she is beautiful. Some of the days she believed him. The other days, she was unable to trust the soothing words and wouldn’t react at the love his father poured at her. During those sad days, when nothing could cheer her up, she felt a darkness growing around her. A darkness. Constantly. Growing. Continue reading
People settle very early in their life and the day you settle is the day of death. After that you never live, because life is in exploration – there is no other life. It is in seeking, searching, waiting, dreaming, hoping. The day one thinks ‘Now things are as I wanted them to be’, one relapses into death. People go on living a life which is not really life. To keep living one has to be always on the go, one has to be adventurous. Adventure is a religion in itself. You are always reaching, searching and never really arriving, never really knowing. Continue reading
30th November, 2011, Janakpuri District Centre, Delhi, About 4’o clock in the evening.
“Jo bhi main, kehna chaahun, barbaad karein alfaaz mere… oh yaye…. oo yeahyeahye…” is what I was repeatedly humming while stepping out of Satyam Cineplex. The lines of this very special song from the movie ‘Rockstar’ were struck in my mind so adhesively that I just couldn’t resist singing it over and over again. The show had just finished and the song had its everlasting effect induced in me.
“Maine yehi socha hai aksar, tu bhi main bhi sabhi hain sheeshe, khud hi ko hum sabhi mein dekhe, juda hue to…” before I could apply that high note, my shoulder was tapped by someone. I knew who it was, none other than Gurdeep, my buddy whom I had left behind while singing the heavenly tunes of Rahman Saab while walking out of the cinema. Continue reading
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