Here comes the patter of tiny feet,
Innocence looking up at you with wonder,
With bright eyes and shining smiles
All like a million sparks of a bright flame,
pure as drops of dew on a summer morning.
A single stroke filled with a million colours,
these little angels of joy lighting up the world,
slipping, at times falling, yet unafraid.
Fresh as the flowers in a garden,
laughing and dancing to yet unheard melodies
and unabashedly talking to unseen friends,
finding shelter only in a mother’s shadow.
Mischief varying like the melody of a flute,
borne out of souls yet untouched by vice.
A silent hope that they don’t grow up,
and stay scattered across our lonely skies.
(As a writer i feel it is my duty to reveal the truth about why Modi really won in 2014 elections. So here goes…)
I would like to start off this post by making my political allegiance clear. I bear no loyalty to any political party. My support lies with the person who turns out to be the lesser of two evils (let’s not kid ourselves; they’re politicians after all. Evil comes in the job description.) And while the social media is flooded with posts and tweets and barks about ‘MODIfication’ and how “change is coming”, please forgive me if I choose to be human and be skeptical about all this glorification until I see the tides of change with my own eyes.
So now that I’ve criticized properly as any concerned blogger of this country should, let me come back to the point at hand. Underneath all this joy and merry making, we seem to have forgotten one true fact, the one true reason why a once-upon-a-time tea-seller stood to become the leader of the biggest democracy that ever existed. I dedicate this post to the people of India who divided by caste, language, region and religion came up united against brazen corruption, unwarranted inflation and misgovernance. I take up this opportunity to remind the people that it was the work of 551 MILLION+ heroes that this great country now has a chance at ‘change’. A record turnout of 65.85% (beating closely the previous record of 63.56% in 1984) goes to show that a democracy is indeed “of the people, for the people and by the people.”
I finish this post by borrowing a section of the Inaugural Address by Mr. Ronald Reagan,the 40th President of the United States that certainly befits my motives:
“… We hear much of special interest groups, but our concern must be for a special interest group that has been too long neglected. It knows no sectional boundaries, crosses ethnic and racial divisions and political party lines. It is made up of men and women who raise our food, patrol our streets, man our mines and factories, teach our children, keep our homes and heal us when we’re sick. Professionals, industrialists, shopkeepers, clerks, cabbies and truck drivers. They’re, in short, we the people …”
I was watching Moneyball again yesterday after a long long time. and this song from the movie was so touching! Just a little girl singing with a guitar in the background… Nothing more. Beautiful Indeed! Tells you how important it is to just sit back and enjoy life.
I’m just a little bit caught in the middle,Life is a maze and love is a riddle I don’t know where to go, can’t do it alone, I’ve tried and I don’t know why Slow it down, make it stop or else my heart is going to pop ‘Cause it’s too much, yeah it’s a lot To be something I’m not I’m a fool out of love ‘Cause I just can’t get enough..
I’m just a little bit caught in the middle Life is a maze and love is a riddle I don’t know where to go, can’t do it alone I’ve tried and I don’t know why I’m just a little girl lost in the moment I’m so scared but I don’t show it I can’t figure it out, it’s bringing me down I know I’ve got to let it go And just enjoy the show
The sun is hot in the sky just like a giant spotlight The people follow the signs and synchronize in time It’s a joke nobody knows, they’ve got a ticket to the show Yeah, I’m just a little bit caught in the middle, Life is a maze and love is a riddle I don’t know where to go, can’t do it alone, I’ve tried and I don’t know why I’m just a little girl lost in the moment I’m so scared but I don’t show it I can’t figure it out, it’s bringing me down I know I’ve got to let it go and just enjoy the show Just enjoy the show
You ever come across a trigger that sparks a powerful nostalgic feel? Something as simple as a whiff of an old scent, or an oddly familiar sound. I did a quick search for the etymology of ‘nostalgia’, and it comes from Greek root words ‘nostos’ meaning ‘return home’ and ‘algos’ meaning ‘pain’, homesickness.
The feeling of homesickness can bring about a deep pain and longing for things of the past. Not necessarily longing to be home, exactly, because home can be anywhere, anyone and anything which we’ve grown comfortable and safe with. Nostalgia is an effective word that accurately encompasses the plethora of intense feelings it rouses.
Emotions such as happiness, or anger are basic emotions that we have a decent understanding of, nostalgia on the other hand takes us by surprise and holds us captive until we’ve reminisced enough. Sometimes it can take us into a trance like state, where there…
(Over the years many people have asked me the same question over and over again. “Why do you write?” I decided to answer it now, on the eve of my 22nd birthday with a slightly doped brain and an absolutely lonely heart.)
I write because I want silence. And not the loud kind of silences which make you low. I just want a few moments of solitude. No disturbances, no noises. Just me and a scenery. I want to investigate, accumulate and contemplate the beauty of nature, of creation. I want to marvel at the simple mysteries of man and the world and not be bogged down by unnecessary worries about career, life, family and finance. I do not want to sit idle and give myself excuses to resort to alcohol or smoking or any other thing that I know kills me. For a few minutes everyday, I want to feel like I’m my own captain and that my ship is sailing in the right direction. I want to wake up thinking that it will be glorious day ahead instead of cringing at the thought of putting on my tie and feeling like a dog on a leash.
I write because I want to affect lives; affect in a good, non-destructive way. I want to touch hearts, to bring smiles, to create a sense of warmth and nostalgia inside others. I want to create something great, something concrete. My life’s works may be all but two lines, but I won’t mind as long as a million souls remember those few words for their beauty and simplicity. I want to stand up for what I want and not be another sheep in the flock. I want to revel in the torrent of flashbacks which run inside my head and feel happy; happy to have known so many wonderful, unique and even preposterous people.
I write because I have a lot of stories to tell, a lot of emotions to express. The stories may be good, may be bad or maybe plain old boring. But I write because I believe that I can tell stories.