The Silver Lining

War was never over, it has been the oldest form of dealing with life.. War is not only losing lives to violence, war is part of everyday life, it is the struggle every human undergoes when something has to be done unwillingly, without the consent of the conscience; war is the unstable state of mind which is often an outcome of unfulfilled wishes, unsaid and unmeant words, unseen results and unwelcome experiences; war was never over, it is part of one’s battles with the world and with self; it is the death of one’s emotions, when one has to forcibly change to make life more practical, when one has to pretend to fit into the society; it is the fading away of one’s childlike habits, to be an apparent responsible adult.. Was is never over, and war is what brought us where we are today, war made us free, war made us intelligent and war made us more peaceful.. War is what gives the courage to fight for a cause, to ensure sustenance of the good, to take a side and to

Din me jin pannon ko palatkar andekha kar jaate hain, raat me vahi pannon ke lafz palken bhiga deti hain.. Nazron se kahin door basi khushiyon ki yaad dila jaati hain ye raatein, Na jaane kya kya chhipakar rakhti hain ye andher ki ghatayen, Jo din me kabhi bahar nahi aate, bas intezar karte hain sooraj ke sone ka.. Fir aise raaz khulte hain jo shayad hi kisine socha ho.. Andaz kuch alag sa nikharne jo lagta hai, fir karwaten bhi karwaten le jaati hain.. Par kuch baat zarur hai in sooni raaton me, thande pattharon me bhi kahin ye aag jaga jaati hai..

She sat there pondering about where she had reached, she didn't know which way she had come, she had come a long way, carving her own rules, never did she wonder how she came this long. She wasn't sure about what she wanted, she was still separating the right from wrong, she asked herself if she was too much behind the crowd, there came no answer, so she followed her soul, but she knew for sure what she didn't want, she had her conviction and she had her faith, in everything that she took up on the way, she poured herself, without any dubiousness. She could not recognise herself, as what she was before, she had laughed, she had cried, she had her share of grief, she knew she could not hide behind her fears and failures, she had to stand tall, making up of all her mistakes. She also felt this deep sense of accomplishment when she looked back and checked her crashes, she knew she could have given up so many times, after all, it was just a matter of choice.

Ever seen how excited your dog gets when you come back home? You know he can never be mad at you, no matter what. You know he is there, no matter what. He is just there whether you love him or not, whether you care about his presence or not, whether you ever take him seriously or just play with him for your personal entertainment. He is just always there. Dog is love. The day I can love someone like a dog loves, I will know that I am truly in love.

It was another hot April evening when I was going back home in a Churchgate Slow. The ladies compartment in which I was travelling was noisy and entertaining, as usual. Bhelwalas, Clipwalas, etc. were trying their best to convince the “easy-to-convince gender” to purchase their stuff and fill their pockets. In a few minutes since I entered the train, there entered a young man with a boy (supposedly his younger brother). The man had a musical instrument which I had seen in Rajasthan some months back. It isn't a very popular instrument, so after taking some help from Google, I figured out that it is called ‘Ravan Hattha,’ which is a local Rajasthani string instrument.  I mentally named him ‘Ravan’, ONLY AND ONLY because that was the name of the instrument that he was carrying. It was my very obvious assumption that Ravan had entered the train to earn some money for sympathy; and not to ignore, he was sharp enough to recognize that women are storehouses of sympathy. (Why else woul

Distance is what you call a curse, Distance, than hatred, is utterly worse; Distance can break to pieces, your heart Distance is when you move apart.. Every moment is an apparent day,  for a little peace, the soul might pray.. The boundless garden of the mind goes pale, leaving back every memory, sick and stale. Distance teaches the value of time, It teaches you that reverence is no crime, Distance shows you the deepest intensity of what we call as innate sincerity. Distance is strong, distance is powerful, It displays out your darkest thoughts. Distance is strange, distance is wonderful, It connects two souls that are oceans across…