Dear Cat

Dear CAT-2016,

Sadar MEOW,

Kuch dino se apke aane ki khushi me bache paglae padey hai, koi so nahi pa raha, koi kha nahi pa raha to koi ya to bas so raha ya bas kha raha hai. Sabhi apse milne ke liye bahut ekchuk to nahi hai lekin kya kare apne kuch option bhi to nahi chora hai J . Taiyari to ho chuki hogi apki ? nahi nahi “ taiyari jeet ki “ nahi , “ taiyari lene ki “ ache se , aram se , HUMARI LENE KI . .

Sometimes,  I think how co related marriage and you are. Taiyari mahino se aur kam tamaam bas 3 ghante me , shadi me bhi insan ki ache se lagti hai  aur CAT me to …ahemmm..let it be !   . . .                   

Like lakhs of students taking cat this year , I too have many dreams , which “YOU CAN” make easier to achieve and by this ( in any sense ) I don’t mean that “ ONLY YOU CAN “ make easier to achieve . No I am not challenging you but I am just being honest . Even if I don’t crack you ( which I desperately want to ) , my life is not gonna end . . I may face more difficulties to achieve what I want to but I will get there. If not you , then something else , but I WILL BE THERE.

I have this one magician in my coaching “ KUMAR SIR”.  Well, yes he is a teacher but the word is too small  to define him. The last day of my workshop turned out to be a turning point in my life. Earlier I had this presumption that exams hardly have any power but somewhere my conscious mind denied to accept this fact. I thought I had this feeling kyuki aj tak kisi exam me maine aisa kuch khaas ukhada nahi hai. .                     On the last day of the workshop (as I mentioned above ) , I don’t know which kind of magic was that or rather I would say, it was hypnotic. Totally and completely hypnotic experience. I was spell bound. I can still hear his majestic voice , the potent words , that was the highest point of my energy level. I learnt a hell lot of things that day and to much of my surprise i found out that whatever I have been thinking over the years was really true. . The lessons I got that day may not help me be the topper of Common Admission Test-2016 , but it would surely land me where I see myself few years from now.

It may hurt your ego , but dear CAT, I am not afraid any more. I am not going to piss off when we meet . I am not gonna shiver when you make that 3 hrs period the shortest time period of my life. I am not gonna wail when you leave me exhausted. I am not gonna call GOD for help , I will just ask him to lend me more powers so that I just sit back at my chair , coolly calmly and do things to the best of my level. Yes Mr CAT, I am going to enjoy you . I will enjoy the faces around , I will enjoy the pressure around , I will enjoy your power but at the same time , I will ensure that I don’t feel “ powerless” .

You may make my life easier or tougher and that’s the most you can do. Tomorrow we are gonna meet and I know you will make sure that I remember the day for the rest of my life but what I am planning is to remember how well I handled you and not how the hell you freaked me out. .

Dekhiye ye sab dil pe mat lena aap. I know aise kisi ne baat nahi ki hogi apse. You are the “Amitabh Bachhan” of your industry and I am very sorry if my words pinched you but it was important to tell you this. I respect you . I hail your powers . So instead of giving me reasons to abuse you for life-time , can’t you be a little liberal and do fraandship with me ?  . I will make sure it lasts long ;) . ok I promise jab mai famous ho jaungi , I will always mention you in my Thankyou speech. Isn’t it cool ? I mean who doesn’t wants to get the credit ? . . And to add the cherry on the cake , I won’t friend-zone you. . We can take our relationship to the next level , only if you want. . and that’s it . I can’t propose to you in a more explicit way than this. . “ promise deta hai to dey , warna kat le “ :p . I don’t think I will be forgiven If I end  this  by a cliché like this but still :p . .                          

    . . .  . and yes. . . . .  . . . .  ALL THE BEST !   Ache se darana bacho ko , ganda wala lena aur ha , call karna ,sath milkar hasenge . . .                                                                                                                                                                                 

With lots of love and respect                                                                                                                                    

~ Setu Shreya                                                                                                                            ( dekho ye dialogues ek taraf , but on a serious note, ek request hai. I will be sending you my registration number, thoda dekh lena yaar. . sach batauin ?? Fatti padi hai . . ) 

                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Independence

Dear People Of India,

Happy birthday to me !                                                                                                                                                                                    

    I know it’s my birthday today but believe me , I am feeling like shit . .  You guys use the word “happy” by default next to me and am too petite in front of you all  to break the taboo . .Well, it is indeed a great day for me. After all those massacres, fights and protests, finally I was born. . Itna respect karte ho tumlog ki , the original newspapers having the news of my birth are lying in a rotten state in the national library of Kolkata. J  Isn’t that cool ? Why do you all love me so much?

Day in and out the newspapers are loaded with the same group of verbs, “RAPED” , “MURDERED” , “ATTACKED “ , “BOMBED” ,  “HARRASED” . . . AN-32 aircraft is still missing. We are still on a garbled bridge – “ KASHMIR K LIYE CHAHAT RAKHNI HAI YA KASHMIR KI CHAHAT RAKHNI HAI ? “ . The firing of pellet guns is still taking life and light from many of those residing there. And here are we ,  “ kya hua yaar ,holiday hai aj to enjoy krna hai, Rustom chalenge “ . .Not a single fucking shit is going to change . .

I accept there are still some who have their hearts beating, senses in control and truly aware of the fact that they are humans but I can’t ignore the people outweighing the former.                               India is developing , growing and I have no single doubt on the potential she holds. But this is the story of only half of you. What about the other half ?

While the half of India buys the tricolor, hoists it and thinks they are done with the independence day, the other half still tries to figure out the reason for the ongoing chaos. While many of you will sit in a theatre enjoying RUSTOM and updating “ celebrating independence day at PVR with 15 others” , lakhs and lakhs of chotus will still be delivering cups of tea and coffee. Hundreds of munnis will still be raped today, thousands of dreams will still die but . . .the show must go on, celebration to hoga hi.

Kya kar rahe ho yaar ? kyu ? I don’t want to celebrate a day like this. With half of you celebrating me devoid of any meaning and the half of you lying unaware about me. Firing crackers, flying kites, watching movies, having a party, yaar mera birthday hai ya tumlogon ka?                                                                                 

  It’s not just about a day, the day just adds to my years but what will add to my existence is the road you guys take. If you really do care , respect me. Don’t let my integrity shatter. Don’t let me feel helpless. Do it for me, do it for you, do it for any fucking reason but just DO IT. Let the patriotism flow from your blood. Don’t let your anger die, frame it to come out…. There is much to be done. . . ,you just need to find your way, the right way.

Awaiting your response in the form of your actions.

YOURS FAITHFULLY

INDEPENDENCE

The flying Doll

The Flying Doll

“ What’s that ? “  asked delirious Suru.

“ Oh this ? This is a friend of mine. Although he looks like a pig but he would help me buy that pink doll “ answered cutu beaming with optimism.

“ Well , it has a name cutu, ummmm…yes, it’s a piggy bank and it won’t help you until you feed it with plethora  of coins.“

The two genius minds thought of other alternates but none of them seemed convincing.10 days later Suru received a call “ Suru , come fast, you have got to see this “ . When suru arrived, she saw the piggy on the floor, shattered. Cutu’s eyes were sparkling , “ MAGIC “ , she screamed. “ Papa  just told me that now I have enough to buy that pink doll “ . . .  “ Wow cutu , that is great. Your piggy was really good. I will also bring one, hope I buy that blue helicopter one day “.

After going back, Suru collected the pieces of her piggy , she had broken yesterday to create magic for cutu. She didn’t care  who was credited with the magic. “ Cutu will now have her doll and that’s all what matters “, and she let out a smilet.

The next morning Suru woke up to a grunt. She rubbed her eyes again and again disbelieving what she saw. She spurted to the balcony and  . . . .  saw a blue helicopter flying. She found Cutu holding the remote in her hand and waving.

“ Hey, where did you get it from ? “ Suru screamed while her eyes were still trying to sync with the movement of the helicopter.

Cutu smiled and replied , “ My doll wanted to fly and that’s all what matters “ !

And thus, the piggy created the magic, yet again .

As soon as I got into the metro, I saw beautiful faces with ugly expressions. The afternoon part of the metro likes to keep itself mundane yet relaxed. Sleeping faces were thrashing the window panes, yawning was being welcomed by almost everyone who was trying to keep his/her eyes off falling together. Everything around seemed dry and everyone seemed dead.

The train ritually stopped at one of the stations. And who came in , were not people ,rather it was a storm. It just took 7 " 4-feet " heighted small creatures to bring life back in that metro. Their laughter seemed to replace every square of monotonicity. “ aj pehli batting lene “ , “ ha wo kal maine 64 mara tha vishal ki to halat kharab ho gayi thi “ “ lekin yaar wo bowling acha krta hai, aise hath ko na twist , nahi waise nahi , dekh . . . “  baba re , they were not talking. They screaming at the top of their voices, literally. Their shirts were drenched in sweat. Heavy school bag and a big bottle adorning their burden. I could feel their enthusiasm as it was just yesterday that I had left my school, I saw myself with them, a little me with a genuine smile. No extra kajal, liner or gloss. And in that short skirt, shirt and tie ,I could see “ the prettiest  ME “.

Nobody was anymore in a sleepy mode. Their vibes had brought everyone on the deck back to life. All through my way, I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I was reliving the past. Those blue id cards reminded me of days when the only day that seemed blue happened to be Sunday.

They hardly paid any heed to anyone around. They were laughing, fighting, eating, enjoying. They were not conscious of what people might think or how they looked in those sweaty and sacky dresses or how unkempt their hairs were. They were just so much into themselves. Aaaahh, good old days!

It was just the cricket match’s scores and strategies that worried them. Neither the heavy weighted bag could trouble them, nor the hot weather and here was I , carrying a feather weighted bag and each time I looked at it , it admonished to take the hell outta me.  .  .  how ironical , as the bag’s burden starts decreasing, the weight of the dreams and expectations levied on the back increases and that makes the bag heavier than ever before. . .

As I saw them getting down, I could see my childhood leaving me, AGAIN and I could do nothing, yet  AGAIN. . The doors closed and the window panes showed me the last imaginary glimpse of my childhood. The train jerked and moved forward. I could see the “small me”  getting lost in the crowd or may be , It was the real me , who seemed lost , lost in a world, which is now far from reality. 

The Coin Boy

It was a normal day. The sun as usual was in highest of it’s spirits. The melting power of the sun was getting stronger with each passing second. The heat was tearing the skin apart. The traffic was unending and the vehicles made sure they didn't miss a second adding to that humongous noise pollution. There was a chaos in the market and I was agoged seeing the crowd. The burning heat had NO VISIBLE effect.

Meanwhile all this hustle and bustle , I saw a lad with the least possible cloth on his 500 gms of body, bare foot, running from one person to the another , "de do bhaiya, bhuk lagi hai" (Give me some money, I'm Hungry). He was merely entertained by anyone and even who did, were not able to satisfy him. There was not even a squintilla of happiness in his expressions. I could hardly find any curvy line on his tanned shrunken face. His small hands were not able to accommodate his earning. As a result, two of the coins fell from his pocket. He couldn’t bend down, there were more coins in his hands that needed his attention. He stood there, thinking of what to do next.

And just then entered the hero of the story, little ravenous bearing the "GAP” tag on his t-shirt and wearing a Nike cap. His Sketcher shoes completed his "Richie Rich" look. He bent down, took the coins and pushed it in the half-tore pockets.

I could see two completely different worlds . . . together.

They moved apart. As he was getting in his cool comfortable black Mercedes, he looked back. The coin boy was still standing there, drops of sweat travelling down till his navel. The sun still above his head, trying to suck the left over in his body.

Richie rich got in. the a/c automatically vaporized the sweat. As the temp dipped down and he felt cold, he let out a warm smile to the coin boy. The boy, holding the coins tightly , replied back with a curve. A curve that joined two different worlds, two completely different worlds.

HBD BETA

SHORT STORY - 03

00:00

“ Happy Birthday Beta “  a fervent voice squeaked from other side of the phone. “oh mom, you ? . . Thankyou “

“ Why are you sounding so low? Is everything fine ? “  . . “ No, everything is not fine, It was sneha who was supposed to be my first caller. I wanted to hear happy birthday in her voice first and you ruined it all “ ,  although Ankush thought so but all he could reply was “ yes mom, I am fine “ . The device still transmitted her mother’s enthusiastic voice but the apple embedded metal piece was harshly forced into his back pocket, thinking her mother would cut the call herself after getting no response.

00:30

“ still no calls from sneha. Neither are my friends calling, they must have planned something” Ankush tried to lift himself and turned the amplifier to the highest level. The windows danced to the cacophonic music coming from heavy buffers. Just then someone knocked at the door.                                                      

  “ Sir apke liye bouquet hai “ , Ankush jumped to his excitement. He thought sneha would have sent it and now the party will begin and he continued to fly in his imagination till he received the bouquet.                               

 It was all blue orchid, his favourite. He was beaming with ecstasy and just then his eyes fell on a piece of paper.     

 “ Happy birthday beta . . . .LOVE . . . MAA “

He could feel his heart sinking. He took out his phone.                                                                                                                     

  “ Last Call Summary : 26:04 “                                                                      He felt a lump in his throat. His guilt erupted magnanimously from his eyes.The trans music faded away, the ambience seemed sombre and all he could hear was

    “ HAPPY BIRTHDAY BETA “ 

Short story - 02


Swarm of people rushed into the metro, making it cumbersome for the nose to grasp in oxygen. The air around got mixed with the sweaty smell making the situation intolerable . 
Swati again lost in the battle for having a seat . Like all the other days, today also she saw him. An unfamiliar guy who somehow managed to protect her against the enemy group of geeks who constantly took advantage of the rush and tried to rub their bodies against any available female. 
He stood tall before her. " I have a warrior " she thought. One of her  friend succeeded in grabbing a seat and offered it to her. 
She gently replied
" I feel safer here, i ll prefer standing" 
While her friend couldnt get her convoluted answer,  the warrior looked back. He was smiling. Swati looked down and moved closer.

THE GAME

SHORT STORY – 01

                                                                   

On the 5^th day of her college, she received a mail

“love is a game, a game of two                                                                                                                 and I always want to play with you.

Magical eyes, glimmering skin flicking your hair,

you seem like a dream.

Like a pearl in the ocean. Deep, Still and pure.

Like a star. Far yet shinning with a glow.                          

I so damn want you, want you close.                                                                                 

You have darted my heart with your charming smile

and you can only cure me by being “exclusively” mine.

So let’s start the game.

The game of two. It will be just “ME” and it has to be just “YOU”

She was just in middle of her thoughts when the second mail popped. 

"I had misspelled the email-id and it was sent to you. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please ignore!"

But how could she just unmind something so beautiful. She decided to reply “It’s fine” and hesitatingly added “You are an awesome writer.”

And BINGO !!! Now, she was IN the game. They started exchanging mails and got close. So very close that they are now married and have an adorable little princess. Resha kissed her 10 year old daughter and patted her to sleep. but did both of you meet only because of that typing mistake? The little mind spoke.

“No beta, I already knew I was sending it to my wife. That lie was just to start the game.”

Aryan and Resha exchanged glances. Aryan winked. Resha blushed. They were still in the Game. The game of LOVE. The Game of TWO. 

Dear Crap

THE WIND BLEW AND THE MATCH WAS WON BY THE AUSTRALIANS. YET AGAIN, INDIA IS WITNESSING AN ALARMING VIDEO SENSATION BY SACHIN TENDULKAR WHO IS MAKING A NEW DESIGNED CRAFT TO ACCOMMODATE THE RUSSIANS. . . 

Kya? Kuch samajh nahi arha ? arey yahi to karte hai humlog din bhar. Samajh nhi ata kya kar rahe, but karte to hai. 

It’s all a big trap , everything here is nothing but just a Crap !

Well, you just saw it and you saw it right, yes I am writing to you Mr.Crap. Your popularity has forced me to write to you. Although you are so meaningless, senseless and useless, I do find you everywhere where I apply my mind ( and to be honest, before that I really enjoy you, like everyone else).

from movies to songs, politics to politicians, relationship status to fb status, why do I find you everywhere ? Buddy , you have come a long way. With no god father of yours, you have done a great job, but its high time now. Seriously man, I mean make anything and put all the khans, write anything and add “yo yo honey singh” , “ King Rocky enjoying in the loo with love master ashish and 28 others” . what the f*** have you done. Do you have any single idea? 

Its all “Crap” going all around.  The person listening the same song everyday is hardly able to make sense of what he hears, but he does because . “  It’s in man “ . “ It’s cool “ . The same person editing his everyday status like “ don’t let your dream die “ , “ live your passion” , is working in a 9-to-9 office, attending calls and making codes the whole day and having no bloody idea of what the hell he is doing in that cabin with no one around him who could recognise his work, or at least him”.

You are making lives more senseless. Yes, I being harsh to you but you gotta listen this. It was us who made you a part of our lives and now, you are being so much into us, we hardly try to find meaning out of anything. You have made people addictive, not a single hour they can spent without you, not a single word can they speak without you and neither can they hear. . kya pyaar hai . .  Well , not to go with the exceptions but we are still confused of what we are gonna do with our precious hours. 

Life me chahe kitne bhi tension kyu na ho, “ stay calm and f*** yourself “ ki dp zarur lagegi whatsapp pe. Can you just go on a holiday Mr.Crap ? May be then we would be able to understand what really anything “MEANS”. You have just got our nerves and you are really enjoying I guess, but do remember one thing, the day people wake up from this shitty “ fake world” of yours , they will thrash you out of their lives and till then you can dance to your insanity, fly up with your stupidity, run bewildered with your senselessness.

 I Just wanna wish you luck, “beta jis  din se logo ne dil k jagh dimag se sochna shuru kiya , status ki jagh soch badalna shuru kiya , r nakal karne k jagh mehsos krna shuru kiya, us din to teri lag jaegi , GANDI WALI “.

DEAR DIARY,

This one’s for me , this one’s for you . Lets keep it to ourselves. . .

DIARY ENTRY – 01

I frequently do amble here and there. No, well that’s not my hobby but actually my habit . .  Few days back, I visited my dance class, for the sole reason that I really like the energy, positivism and power everyone puts up there. I just sit there and see the tiny tots shouting and dancing and falling and practicing. One can hardly believe the way they respect their teacher’s pedagogy. . But during my last visit, I witnessed something extraordinary.

The dance teacher was in highest of his energy level and the buffer was cracking the windows with the music  “ banno tera swagger “. Everybody was trying so hard to match with the teacher as if they would get cursed if they don’t do so. Amidst all these, I saw a pretty little bud disturbing a well-focused lady after every 4 mins. She would stand up, take her bottle in her small hands and murmed in the least audible voice “ mumma chalo, mumma ghar, mumma gammi, “  with all that force and aggression her mumma was putting, I saw her reacting in just the opposite manner. She took her bottle, placed it where it was, took her princess in hands and said “ bas five mins, mumma turant chalegi “ and I saw the cutest little creature reacting in the most sensible manner possible but again after  few minutes, I could see her childhood returning and again she would re-enact the whole story. Every time she went to her mom, I saw her mom reacting with the same patience she had shown the very first time. Every single “ mumma “ was responded with a “ ha beta, mumma bas chalne hi wali “ and she would again continue with her swagger. I dint see her ignoring her daughter and neither did I see her losing her focus from the dance.

I don’t know her personally but that lady taught me a very important lesson. It’s not only the situations who define what are we going to do. Destiny leaves some of the part for us .

We end up our lives with more of excuses in our bag than the actual achievements. “ ye nahi kar pae, wo hi ho paya, time nahi tha, mann nhi tha “   Bas ho gaya yaar. How many more lies and to whom ? One day when you will introspect yourself , your inner self will not accept your excuses you have made over the years. Nobody will serve you the things you want. Nobody will be answerable or responsible. It’s YOU. It’s only you who know what you exactly want and to get that you will have to work. There are certain  things we can’t fight back (AGREED) but does it mean we should leave even the things we can handle ?  You can’t stop a rain , right ? But the least you can do is ENJOY. Yes , let it pour man , just let it go. In worst of the cases, find a shelter, make yourself safe. Do something to GET something.

If one of your student is letting you down, this doesn’t means your whole class will under-perform. There are some problems is everyone’s life that is reluctant to any solution but letting it grow over you or managing it with all your will is what depends on you.

Just be honest to yourself for a moment and answer this “ What if I had not made those excuses and worked even harder ?  What if I had tried to curb the problems myself ?  What if I had taken a firm step instead of wasting time ? “ . . Don’t let this  “WHAT IF” eat your whole life. Nobody wants to live a life full of guilt.

Reduce the count of excuses. Try man ,TRY . So that 20 years down the line when you look at yourself, you don’t repent. You will either succeed or fail but atleast you will not blame yourself. You will hold no grudges against you and what you will get is an incomparable feeling of pride, Pride of being “YOU”, pride of following “YOU”, pride of standing up for “YOU”. . . .

IT’S YOUR LIFE , TAKE THE CHARGE. . . MAKE IT LARGE ! ! ! 

Dear Differently abled Veggie Vendor,

It's been 3 years of my stay in Allahabad but never did I bother to take a look on the vendor selling the vegetables outside my hostle , I mean why should have I bothered ? But the day I did , I learnt what really life is about.

A man in his late 60s, selling vegetables on his cart, handling and rolling the wheels and shouting his daily " vegetable - price " ritual . Everything seems normal, isn't it ?

Now lemme add one thing which will change your whole perception. He has only one hand - the left one.

People often say He has a good built therefore he can do his work easily.

Oh really ? Is that so ? All they mean to say is people above 80 kgs practice doing their work with their left hand? Well , if the answer to this is a NO , how can they judge the level of difficulty he passes everyday to feed his family?

When I asked him about his hand , the first thing he asked was

"Betiya esko chapne k baad Kuch Hoga kya ?"

I felt like a doctor who is treating a child at his critical stage and has nothing to answer to his mom's repetitive question "Mera beta thik Ho jaega na ?"

I was so bereft of words. I just said "uncle mai Kuch promise nahi Kar sakti "

He said he has a family of 2 daughters, 2 sons and a wife out of which the elder ones are studying and the younger ones lived with their mother in the village. I asked him how he managed to do all this with one working hand and believe me, his words made me look at the life in a different way. His perception of life made me respect him a lot more than thought I do.

He said "Hum nahi karenge to Aur Kaun karega , bache hai , khilana hai , padhana hai Aur jab tak shareer (body) hai tab tak bheekh nhi mange gay. Upar wala ek hath liya hai , Baki Sab to hai. Jab tak chalega , chalaenge . Uske  baad Ramji jaane .."

A great salute to you man!

What ever he earns at least he is thinking of educating his children.

He could have chose the other way. Keeping himself to home, sending his wife and children to earn, whereas himself sleeping and boozing all day long. But NO!, he chose to fight, he chose to stand up for his family, he chose a better life, he chose to be a "FATHER", "A Real Hero ".

Determination is such a thing which can bring things from left side of the number line to the right. We crave for a good body , Fair body, thin body and what not. Yet, we hardly do anything worth inspiring for others and here is this man ,  with an incomplete body yet fulfilling all the requirements of his family and making their life worth living.

I know you would never read this but still I would like to appreciate you for all that you are doing. It was such an honour to meet you sir. We need more like you. Your fight and determination is surely gonna light many more lives.

LIFE IS NOT ABOUT WHAT ALL YOU HAVE. IT'S ABOUT HAVING ALL WITH WHAT YOU HAVE!

Lieutenant VEER ,

Long ago I had watched ‘Dear John’ and thought how cool it would be to have a husband who is in Army. Well, at least I could bluntly flaunt in front of everyone and pretend myself as “super hero” and all that.

WRONG. I was wrong. It’s completely not cool to have you Lieutenant Veer because you are damn hot ;)

Jokes apart, I really miss you and the worst part, I can’t say these 3 words when you talk to me because at that point of time when I hear your cracking voice over the rickety network , I realize no other worldly things matter to me as much as you do. All the fuzz, all the noise dies away and all that I want to say is “I love you” and I seriously do. I welcome the morning sun and bid good-bye to the drowning moon and meanwhile, I keep my mobile to myself as my own body part. Why ? . I can’t  afford missing your call baby <3.

When you come home and talk endlessly about your flights and fights, I feel alive. Through your words, I get to see your world. Responsibility, fights, guns, violence, patriotism and then I see you, my handsome Lieutenant . Standing tall against all odds. I know it must be difficult for you but believe me it’s nevertheless for me. Every time I see a couple walking hand in hand, I sympathize my heart but the problem is “Heart doesn’t has a brain”. It rejects all my pleas and all it wants is “YOU”. I don’t envy the people hugging or kissing each other. It just makes me miss you more. It’s been more than a month without even talking to you, let alone kissing and hugging. I know you are somewhere fighting for our country and here am I , fighting for your love, waiting for you to come back.

The mornings seem so lively when I wake up to the divine touch of your lips on my skin and you know what? I don’t sleep the whole night because . . . . I don’t want to

I just stare at you,

when you hold me ,

when you snore     

when you kiss me in your sleep. 

I desperately want to freeze that moment.                                                                                                                                                   

Every day when you wake up in the morning and silently whisper “Chai bana do.Uth jao na yaar” . . . .  Baby I am already awake but I love to hear your husky metallic voice turning into a sleepy kiddish one requesting for tea. Of all the days spend without you, I try to gain mastery over the food items you like but you know what the best part is? No , it’s not my food. It’s when you affectionately force me to eat in the same plate and share every bite that you make. Those evening walks with brisk effervescence of our love , light breeze, you me, your hand my waist, my hand your shoulder, mild music and that’s all to turn my world upside down. In each moment of your love, I live a thousand more lives, all together at once.

 While I hug you after you come back, I feel a sense of pride seeing the stars on your shoulders. I wish I could hug you till eternity my man. I feel so very complete and secure.It’s a privilege that I could be a part of your life Lieutenant Veer. You have kept my head high. Although I don’t get to hug you 7days a week but trust me, the day you hug me, I feel like the luckiest girl alive on the planet and you must know the reason behind this. Its because while everyone brags about having a “hero” in their life, I can proudly say this that the “ hero of my life “ is the “ hero of many lives ”. You are made for this country and when time comes, you will within a blink give what is the most precious to me – YOUR LIFE. But lemme promise you one thing , the day you will die for our country, I will start living for it.

Desperately waiting for you

Yours Proudly                                                                                                                                            Mrs Lieutenant Veer

Dear Me,

It has been long since i spoke to you last… to be more accurate, I hardly remember our last convo.. wait .… did we really have any real convo …? 

Well I often lie to the world but how can i lie to myself? I accept there is no shortage of  time in my "not-so-busy schedule ". I have enough time to puff away my thoughts in smoke and lie all day long without taking shit about anything else, enough time to burn my bum in my cubicle on calls and codes, enough time to out show my swag on instagram and fb. in short, enough time for all the other crap . . except you and even when I want to spend some time with you, I unintentionally dedicate those moments to my long lost love, old friends, my fear , my career, future , past and what not. 

   I do really wanna hold on to a serious convo with you. YOU ARE ME. and i don't understand why the hell i don't take out time for you. . ummm come on let me be honest. . I am scared of you. I am scared of what I will confront. it’s difficult for me to introspect because the physical me is just too incapable to understand the "real me". 

GOD made the two us in us - the visible me and the invisible you and we need to work together as a team. deep down in my soul's existence, I know we are not perfect, we lie weak somewhere, we are incapable somewhere somehow but i respect YOU. I promise to defend you every-time your dignity is attacked. I promise to stand by you whenever your capabilities are questioned. with all that faith you have on me, I swear I’ll never ever leave you alone. 

we are here not just to be counted as one among the million, living , eating, earning and dying. we can be much more. . MUCH MUCH MORE.

YOU HAVE THE POWER .

YOU HAVE THE MAGIC

YOU ARE MEANT TO BE SPECIAL

STAND UP

FLY

FIGHT

Dear Manjhi ,

A 360-ft long, 30-ft wide, 25-ft high Mountain . . and other side one man, one hammer, one chisel and 22 years long battle . Hats off to you sir. We all have gone through many romantic and passionate love stories. But you, you just took it to a new unreachable level.

“Manjhi The Mounatin Man “   every time I hear the first dialogue of this movie. . “tohar khatir “ ( for your sake ) , man I see you there. Fighting with the nature for your love. I am able to sense the passion, I can imagine the madness. The madness which made you fight for 22 years and That’s huge, seriously. 

“ Jab tak todenge nahi tab tak chorenge nahi “ . aah .

Your spirit, your determination, your love

this everything is just, out of this world !

Love is pure, love is madness, love is . . . YOU. How could you just go on a battle with a strong, high,powerful,stubborn ---- MOUNTAIN ? how ? I really wanna know. You needed no one, you cared for no one. All that occupied your mind was “ phalguniya” , her words, her smile. With the hammer you used to cut the mountain, you crooked out your toe finger to save yourself from the snake’s poison, and that too to complete the promise you had made to her. You walked down all the way from GAYA to DELHI, approx. 1000kms , GOD, were you crazy?

Itna Pyar aj kal to movies me bhi nahi dikhate yaar. If I had anything to give you in your honour, I would have designated you as the “synonym” for love. I hardly see any difference between you too. You are a fire and believe me, you are still burning. “DASHRATH MANJHI PATH”, well I have included this name in my “places to visit”. If a movie made on you can be so arousing, I am unable to imagine the force of love one can feel there . Doesn’t that feel great? From no one to becoming a MOUNTAIN MAN all for the sake your love. I am sure phalguni still loves you the same or may be even more and you too must be having a great time up there. But down here, your love story is getting viral man. Your story is beyond anybody’s imagination. Far from reality but still a real world story.

In your happiness, she kept dancing with you. In your battle, she kept motivating you. In your thoughts, she kept flowing. In your arms, she kept sleeping. In your heart, she kept breathing.

Mr. Dashrath Manjhi, I put my pen down in front of you. For neither me, nor my words have any power to write for your love. But there is one thing I want to say, people take terrible decisions and make their life miserable after their love is gone but what you did, shows what really “LOVE” means. Of all the movies I have seen till now, my taste for heroes kept changing. I guess, I have gained the stability now. Taj mahal is an epitome of love, although it were the workers who brought it to real life, and then, we have you. A man who challenged a mountain, fought all alone and could proudly build a road, for her ‘phalguniya’. That means all that we need even to cut down a mountain like a cake is a heart full of passion and a mind, full of determination. I no more want a Ranvir or Arjun in my life, a man with  10% of love of what you had for phalguni, would do it all.

Log kehte hai ki ishq me itni takat hai ki khuda bhi apne erade badal deta hai 

par apse hamne jana ki ishq me itni takat hai ki wo khud khuda bhi ban sakta hai!

SHANDAR ZABARDAST ZINDABAD !

SALUTE !

Dear India,

The platform we are standing on and the present relation we are sharing, needs a conversation. The world is growing and so are we. I am not going to elaborate your achievements nor ours, of what we did for you and all. I am writing this for a serious cause.

We, the youth of today don’t respect you and love you just because some of us are so weak in our general knowledge that we aren't able to recall the names of some of the ministers, right ?  Well this is what the half of the population thinks. And if I am not mistaken, ‘Majority Wins’, this is what happens in India.

“Beta cabinet minister kaun hai? Lok sabha ka speaker to pata hi hoga ? Nahi ? Jo new state bana hai uska capital bhi nhi pata?  Kya jante ho fir apne desh ke bare mey ?"

For god’s sake, please stop judging our patriotism with the amount of knowledge we have. Not Answering these absurd questions doesn't means we don’t love YOU. 

Although beta is not able to memorise some of the important names but I am sure, he will never take a step back when INDIA needs them.

This general knowledge comes from the mind and the love from the heart, of course. Until and unless we don’t feel like an Indian, however names we memorise, doesn’t matters.

Bharat maa, just don’t listen to these morons. May be we had a glorious past but we assure you, our future will be even brighter. We may not celebrate the independence day or republic day by hooking ourselves to the television sets, but we know how to fight for you. We may not remember your financial data but we know how to make it stronger. We may not understand the concepts of some the uncles but we do know that you need us and we promise we will do anything it takes to save your pride and prestige.

There are many many intelligent gentlemen taking bribe under Mahatma Gandhi’s photo and there are some fools fighting for you over and over again. Trying to save you sometimes, with the enemies around, sometimes with the enemies within. Well if the differentiation goes like this, I ll take pride in belonging to the group of fools. At least I ll able to die with my head stretched up and not with a regretful heart. We are a group of hot-blooded yet practical people. We don’t live in a dream like “ yes, my country is the best” but we are determined enough in making you the BEST. We don’t have jobs, our children are being abducted, our daughters are being raped and sometimes, even sons too but we don’t blame you. We are brave enough to decide whether its India at fault or the Indians. We are not politicians, we don’t fake things.  We aren't eating you from inside. We aren't a part of that shit. We don’t have a fight over the religions. We are just Indians and that’s what we always want to stay.

After all this, I can say this proudly that although I don’t know who the hell is running the cabinet or the state or the law and order but surely, my respect for you is much more than all of them combined.

Junnon hamesha ishq me hi nahi hota,

Dard hamesha judai me nahi hota,                                

Kuch desh prem abhi baki h yarron,

Ye hamesha kitabo aur kahaniyon me nahi hota!

Jai hind !