Set free..


There were times when dad's scoldings made us cry,
low scores was the biggest matter of worry,
our best friend insulting us was so hurtful,
being the class monitor was a matter of pride,
a few sweet words by crushes took us directly to cloud 9
and  getting wet in the rain was supposed to be dangerous!
So many little issues but they never made us feel heavy inside,
today we have all the freedom to do what we want,
to be what we are and yet,
we miss those golden days of childhood ..
Sometimes, it feels better to be in a protective cage than to dive into the highly risky oceans ..

and again we feel perplexed, 
there were no festivals in school,
to drive a four wheeler was a dream,
failing in exams wasn't acceptable then,
getting a chance to fill slam books was so much awaited,
there wasn't permission to go for movies or to hang out with friends to explore the city,
this freedom takes us long, it takes us wide, 
it shows some unseen colours and opens some unvisited realms within ourselves,
no matter how much it makes us fall and how much it makes us cry,
it makes us strong and gets the best out of us!
It teaches the best lessons and it gives us the chance to meet ourselves..

Cheers to freedom !

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Why beg when you can steal?

Image
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
Read more

Ye raat..

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..
Read more

The lost thread..

Now I know not what love is,  where it comes from and where it leads to,  what it gives and what it takes,  what it creates and what it destroys,  I know not how love happens and how it rehappens,  now I know not how a special touch feels and how beautifully it heals,  I know not how much somebody's smile can matter, and I know not how, without love, lives can shatter,  I know not how people can be boundlessly selfless and unsound and how love just makes the world go round and round and round..  now I know not what it means by love,   to me, it all seems to be like a sweet old fairy tale..
Read more