~ All of your street light eyes wide on my plastic toys ~

There comes a time when your heart is blatantly not supporting your mind; you feel disjointed and not belonging to a world you mostly thought your living place to be. That’s how life takes few minutes to change whole analogy. Love, affection, and nostalgia everything fails to provoke anything that fell into deep slumber. You look around finding emotions or words that could heal this instant but it all goes in vain. This inertia however instills a new sensation; a will to be strong; a hope negating all eyes just meeting yours. You try to absorb everything even a sudden laughter, a clap or a hi five. You blame time which passes by without any kindness or good deed; spreading a spur of thoughts and moments around.

Suddenly you want to rush back and see how much change your people have undergone?

 If you could still find your old school, high school photographs and still find something to laugh at. If you can recognize faces that aren’t with you any more or purple letter head with a love letter that someone you never saw placed in your book and you made hundred assumptions about it; sometimes infuriated ; sometimes considering it foolishness or may be some old stamps you collected with zealous energies  and your attempts at making good signature name for big task awaiting ahead or first attempt to start joining hand writing or silly explanations of stanzas where you know; you just have to fill space when you even can’t understand what is the meaning of ‘freedom’ or ‘slavery’ or ‘hatred’ or 'love' or  ‘if your loved one has gone and how time can fill the gap' in poetry.

 It all comes to you; you want to go back in same street light; in same town holding a lamp and rolling around it or throwing arm around your brother and sharing same ice-lolly. It all does come back to you and you never want to let go of anything but an insecurity that enthralls you and you wrap your arms around with a street light still falling on your arms highlighting half of your face; little bruise you got while playing in childhood and you smile, you know how much you were able to save from the cunning eyes of so called time.

* Some times looking back is good sometimes it stones you. Ultimately our decisions are the choices we make and choices are half percent chance *

Laters
Happy Weekend =)

' No Life Is Without Its Deal Of Pain '

Who am I? A question stung me quite a lot of times before and even after reaching conclusion my spirits wander across the surface. Reaching a point where definitions are strong but dimensions deviate.

Thinking about a life that passed just right in front of my eyes is like waiting for a train to come at stop to accommodate passengers in it ;  you hear its voice coming towards you  ; but it whooshes away and then across you. Without even stopping; it passes by you with a chilled steam fuming away marking a sign of good bye.

Getting a chance to see many facets of human personality rising up and down gives me an outlook of making assumptions if not understanding reality.

Mediocre life is a complete amalgamation of keeping up your standards and making yourself better in the hindsight. You would never know about it till you exercise it .

 Till my college and university life I used to think about myself as a very independent person who did everything by her own will and with her own hands. I used to work hard; the competition I always felt with my fellows was just like a game I used to play with the swords ; swirling to make my way towards my final destination.

With this aptitude let me clear one thing that I relied this competitive streak upon my prayers and spirituality that I was very strong with. What disturbed me the most, as I grew up was a feeling that I was fairly drifted away with the principles and religion I used to hold myself strong on , but our god is fair in his dealings too if you tend to go towards him one step he returns it in a much better way.

As I grew up and having lost one of my parents I realized many things; many short comings insecurities flew right in front of my eyes. However I will boundary lines this post with this statement that whatever I am today has a fair deal of parents; environment they tried to keep me in and standards they asked me to follow. Sometimes I am on the way but at the same time I may dwell in a wrong lane.

My father had a tough life as he migrated from Kashmir to Lahore to earn bread and butter and he on his shoulder had a burden to pave way for his whole family including many brothers.

Most magical thing in a relationship is that you sacrifice and nobody would ever know that you did; only time unveils it in front of your eyes and you realize the worth of a person.

Let it be a lover relation or a parent – children relation or anything else. That’s  what I learnt : is to hold on to those tender strings strongly and  never let go of them ; they  bind our heart naturally very strong and with malice if it grows inside ; is like fungus or termite which erases every complexity of holding it dear and makes it a very common thing which it ultimately is not.

If I start talking about his life I need pages to fill in but what tempted me to write was an image.

Having to live a tough life and bringing something back on the daily basis to feed us ; at that point and time we will wait for clock to struck 8 and we daughters and sons will hang around the fence to have a glimpse of him and to see what he is bringing for us. He would never point out our greedy self in fact laugh at our requirements to be fulfilled every day. Isn’t this very cute?

He was taking back in his hand; a bag full of hope…

He wished to start it better every day and end it in calm …

Bu know body would ever know what he had in his heart

Silence, unfathomable ocean of thoughts but he kept peace with himself

For how difficult it was to store it all inside and for whom?

Silently he will open his arm to embrace young lads

And all his tiredness will flew away just like that …

From heart to heart they will share tenderness and warmth

He will pass a smile and she will rub her arms

With this perpetual motion nights befalls

He will sleep between care and fear inside qualms

Happy week days ahead guys, by the way how was your weekend? I enjoyed very much sometimes solitude, sometimes hanging around with family. It was a long weekend and tomorrow seems a tough ride.

O' i would like to quote it here " No life is without its fair deal of pain so be thankful of what you have, what you enjoy and what you do - Remember there is someone watching over you "  

Later then.

Mishi I am trying to keep my promise and to write about myself more. Guess what it might take time to shorten this and be subjective =))

Take Care.

-- Last Word --

It was an instantaneous reaction of the smoke filled clouds moving and capturing glimpse of lightly glowing moon. So I had my eyes erected straight where they go. I feel dizzy I admit; and upper half of my head is convincingly forcing me not to see ahead but what’s hidden in it is mildly meaningful. An ordeal.

 Finding pieces of you in dearth is something I enjoyed doing most of the time. So from interdependence I became dependent completely or partially don’t matter. I see hope in you; find lost faces in yours. And the time we collide I lose your wholesome in air or in the rush where I push people here and there to find you. So today is the last attempt to remove my inhibition. To feel this hope spreading through my veins.

Equation is very simple you had a genuine and an intriguing way to tell what reality is but my dear if it was an ocean of stars flowing one way; I would have converted whole regime. Picked one by one everything coming on my way and reverted it all on the other way just because I wanted you to feel it variedly every time and develop more logics till you had uncovered all the mysteries. But what I learnt in those years is priceless. 

Today I feel weak and my hair turned gray and also I realized that all my fallacies weren’t true as well…

But the sense of loss is no more there. It is converted into fragment pieces; something I enjoyed the most in hour where sadness supersedes. And when I am able to smile again I wrap them up and put them in the most beautiful area of the house I call home. Time never did us a part nor any conspiracy; it’s a mild sensation to make my life a little more happening with all pain and pleasures I got in this whole battle we fought and proudly declare as life.

Imagine what it would be if there was nothing to look forward to; no emotional fluctuations, no distress... how I had realized those feelings that human heart ever go through.

It ultimately made me more humane and emphatically sane.

In the gush of wind i smile aloud; In the dusty dry land i wipe my tears ...

So my last word to you is that this life it wasn’t possible --- next life there is still a hope. 

A Perfect Stranger

I stand here ...

with my head completely resounding somewhere else

and deeper pleasure is to go find my self ...

but there comes a situation

when you urge to sleep and you cant

and sky above the ground, makes you go upside down

for life nasty play and fierce things ahead

did you ever think of what you have left behind

did you ever think where some faces go confine

You are here today,

and time hits me through  spine

is the pain i suffer ..

is the  protest of a crime

is famine within the trough

where the body seeps the tuff

still comes in a guff

Listen ...

Life plays the trick

and events a testimony of our own self...

when you feel life within the lows and all above is the vacant space

below is the cracked world and around is an unknown pace

and only wish is to look back, after noise settles down

to find the twined answer and seeing you more pat down 

i still fear the odd but peace that i found.

is to believe that you are here, is the hope that confound.

'Hope' that calls out fortitude or it jitters ?

Few days back i unexpectedly switched on the television.Why i say unexpected because it scarcely happens

that i sit at my own and that too for long.

My entertainment on television is driven by my sister,click! click! click! and i gazing upon everything that

comes in between and sometimes my sister too.This time it was me and my eyes without even once

flickering.

In few Minutes scenario changes. A girl standing in confession box type of thing and

the panel of judges looking fiercely towards their prey,then our very own and known inscrutable music.  

Hush!Silence!Finally spell breaks down,one of the judge after clearing her throat threw a question as if

another gauntlet thrown at the audience accumulating in that one person.

What 'Hope' for you is ?

(Before i quote an answer let me tell you it wasn't a soap or a drama,it was a de-bating competition and they are trying to find best eloquent speaker and this was an extempore)

So the girl in confession box looked again as if she hasn't heard a question because of the noisy silence around but she moved :
Ahem!Uummm! Few broken words. She tried again to recollect voices in her head.

'Hope for me is a Child with no clothes.. errr...He is in tattered clothes and he is still happily playing with the kids of her age around, this is a Hope for me' .

I found it really interesting and i took my mobile hastily and threw a message to one of my friend who i

knew will reply quick before i even press send button 'I HOPED'.

Answer i got was  'Hope for me is a belief that God Exists'.

I without even measuring the answer threw same question at me but instead of an answer

i had an image in mind which i could of course see vividly and when i tried to jot it down this was what i got,

The Outcome:

'Hope for me is a moment which i want to re-live hundred millions time more even though i am not sure when this breath would last'

Now let me give you images that instantly came in mind:

Hope is a patient lying on his bed and his caretakers right besides him and he can barely move but he Moves! He place his hand over hers to ensure everything is going to be alright and he drops ....

Hope is when i was trying to place my foot on the ground and for some odd reason my foot quivers and i fell from the top of mountain, moving up was my luck which is half percent chance,moving down was my destiny apparently and 'I' so very wanting to hold my hand at some support hoping that i Will get back to the ground again and then a  'hand' grabbed me firmly, moved me up i am bruised and wounded but i am safe.

And if you are asked any of such question: will you stop and follow the picture or will stammer and watch your words before you spill it ? 
 

I 'Hope' to see you Again =)