Tuesday, August 25, 2009

My FIRST LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It was that Day

COllege 1st year!!!!
It was that day when he wore that white clean shirt that made me thought about those broad shoulders and pure face
. There’s something in that perfect and comfortable arms which never failed to make me feel light and safe. I know back then that nothing will ever feel like that. I knew that it was one of the few things that remind me of heaven – of being so high above everyone else and the things that usually feel like dreaming away from nightmares and other stuff that creates fear and anxiety. Back then, I knew, deep within me, that I found life and spontaneity and it will kill me to lose everything I felt lately. I felt existence and it was so heavy and was so weightless both at the same time that I can fly yet I can feel myself for the first time. I can finally feel my beating heart and my brain is working rationally for the first time. I felt electricity and how it feels to run in my veins so smoothly. I felt bliss and how simple you can get it just from glimpsing at the way he moves or hold his pen or listens to the professor or simply sitting and smiling from time to time. I’ll give up this blog for those. I’ll give up my “car dream” just to witness those.

College second year

It was the day when he wore his blue shirt that made me vowed that I’ll do everything to deserve him – his goodness, his excellence, his perfect-ness. I knew back then that he deserves not just me but everything I am, everything I was and everything I am not. It was a goal set for a lifetime and though I often tell him I love him, it’s not because I need to let him know but because I just simply do and the feeling whenever I say it is increasing at infinity’s power. It was amazing and until I met him, I almost thought it was impossible. I thought that dreams stay only on that world where imaginations are the only things that exist. I know now that he is true and what we have is real though my ego convinces me that it was too good. He is tangible and is my favorite person in the world and that includes the imaginary ones.

College Final YEAR!!!!The last few monthes

It was the day when he was not around and wearing a colorless shirt that made me close my eyes and see him in my wildest dream – in the innermost part of my heart, in the core of my being. It was that day when I promised myself that when the right day came, I won’t let him go far away from me, not even an inch away and then we will, at last, be inseparable – both literally and emotionally. It was that day when I shut up and heard his perfect voice played in my head. It was musical and irresistible and the most assuring sound I ever perceived. I heard the sound when he’s sweet, worried, mad, teasing or sincere. It almost felt real and very comforting that he is so close though yet so far. It was the day when I pretend sleeping and felt his arms wrapped around me – so warm and so gentle, then I can no longer sleep just because reality is a lot better than my dreams. It was then that I whispered “I love you” and though he might not heard, I felt certain. I felt absolute and I included my love for him as the second thing that is constant and doesn’t change. I felt unvarying and I knew it for sure that nothing’s going to change, that everything will just miraculously keep on getting stronger… and I found myself singing with happy love songs, smiling genuinely, worry-free and only him in my mind. I wondered curiously is there exist a feeling better than what I’m celebrating and I knew that there’s none and it’s the best that I can have for the rest of my life.

Sometimes we come across situations when we stop contacting someone not because we dont love them,but because we find that they are much happy without us.........CUTE PAIN but BITTER TRUTH.......

Sunday, August 23, 2009

I am a SAD CLOWN.......... :)

I am a SAD CLOWN.......... :)

I am a happy-go-lucky person. I don’t worry too much about things. I am happy and funny (hopefully… somehow). I am filled with humor and comical ideas that serve as a witty skill to lift someone up whenever they need to be. Despite this truth, I don’t deny that I, too, am a sad clown. I joke around whenever I feel like breaking into pieces. I try to make everyone laugh, thinking about the hardest punch line when I feel like my tears will betray me, exposing my hidden melancholy to the chaotic world. That’s what I do – also the best that I can do, perhaps - I make my whole world positive when I’m the opposite. It’s not about pretending or fooling everyone. It’s about hoping that somehow, the laughter I bring to others is contagious enough to intoxicate me away from those things that leave me bothered.

It’s sad that this skill fails when I needed it the most and I cannot afford to fail one more time. It’s like the person I love the most is sad and though I am not literally committed to keeping him happy all the time, I feel the need to make him laugh and put him in lighter spirits. It’s impossible to just sit there and watch him drowning in his loneliness. It’s impossible for me to not at least try to change everything. I cannot do that. I love him too much that I want him to be genuinely happy always. Doing everything, seeing that nothing is changed and realizing that he doesn’t deserve to suffer from all these, I can only break down and cry. I’m worthless. I’m just a drop and he is an ocean. My skills are rusty and aren’t effective. How I wish that I am better at this.

Maybe the drama ends here. Maybe yes, maybe no but I hope not. I have clear intentions of not making this worse. Later, when I close my eyes to sleep, everything will slip and I’ll wake up with nothing to bother me… to bother him. I really just have to let this out because for justice, my blog should contain how worthless I am – that I can only make him happy and yet I wasn’t successful in making that possible, and that I can make other people who don’t matter that much laughing and happy and in high spirits but with respect to him, I can do nothing enough.And that hurts.

Everything is white and all are in bloom

Flowers falling like tears not of gloom.

With eyes so well-defined and romantic lips

With your sweetness, how can I ever resist?

Nothing shines brighter than the spark of your kiss

Pure and genuine, I never had such bliss

Call me happy or perhaps half-crazy

I’ll stand and show you what’s written in destiny

Oh mister, this love had grown so much

My darling, my fear of losing you had grown larger..................

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Child trafficking.......

The INHUMAN face of the HUMAN society: Child Trafficking!!!!!!

This is heartbreaking. Over one million children live treacherous and degraded lives due to being trafficked in prostitution in India. And 100 million people are involved in human trafficking in India. ONE HUNDRED MILLION. These numbers are staggering and incredibly disturbing This is a country that has so much poverty and yet so much promise. Business has exploded there. And yet it is definitely a country of the haves and the have nots…those who are benefitting from the business explosion and those who live in the slums in abject poverty. Opportunists play both sides…the wealthy buy children to have sex with. The poor sell their children into prostitution. They are all players in this sick and soul-killing game.
If India as a country and as a people does not take bold steps to raise up the poor and stamp out child prostitution, they will see generations of moral and spiritual destitution and poverty that will plague them and destroy any potential greatness their country could realize.
Case of Rubina Ali of Slumdog Millionaire fame...
Children are often seen as commodities in poor areas of India and other countries and parents are left with difficult choices. Rubina’s father said: “We live in one room, seven of us sleep on the floor. I earn £2 to £3 a day. I have to consider what’s best for me, my family and Rubina’s future.”
It is difficult to imagine living in such poverty as the people who live in the Mumbai slums. If you have seen the movie “Slumdog Millionaire,” you got a glimpse of how they live…and of how Rubina lives.
Rubina’s father is being an opportunist. He knows that she can attract the attention of wealthy people who can give her a better life. In that regard, he is no different from the father of Madonna’s Malawi child giving his son up for Madonna to adopt so he could have a better life. Rafiq Qureshi also sees this as his one chance in life to provide for himself and the rest of his family.

To raffle his child off to the highest bidder sends chills up my spine. It is to see a child as an object…something to sell to get money. I think of the preciousness of a daughter…the hopes for her future, the love she gives and brings to the family, the delight in seeing her grow up and develop into her own person, the pride in knowing that she came from you, etc….I cannot imagine under any circumstance selling her or giving her up.
Is this what poverty does? Harden people to the point that they don’t see children and women as precious? Or is there something in the character and genetics of people…people who are so callous and selfish and money-grubbing that they would sell their own daughter even in the face that she could be prostituted…that leads to their poverty? Can one be so bankrupt in morals and love and basic caring for a child and also expect to live in anything but poverty? Don’t the two go hand in hand?

To realize the preciousness of a child is to see oneself as abundant. All the riches in the world come with having a child. And to see a child only as something to be sold means that the poor cannot see true abundance when they have it and will never truly attain it.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

This is where the DIFFERENCE lies b/w India and US

Don’t make a big deal of Shah Rukh’s detention

After a long time actor Salman Khan has come up with a real gem. On hearing about Shah Rukh Khan being questioned by US security at Newark, New Jersey, he said it’s good that the country has such a tight set-up. And that ``there has been no attack after 9/11 because of this.’’Salman has a point. SRK might be an icon to Indians and many in the subcontinent, even to the desi diaspora spread across the globe, but to America he’s just a visitor. We may be convinced he cannot be involved in anything that’s remotely violent, but the guard given the responsibility of stopping something like 9/11 from happening in his country again will want to take no chances. And what is the possibility that he’s a die hard fan of the Khan and Bollywood? Very slim.Interestingly, the same day that SRK was detained in Newark, there came news that the great Bob Dylan, who was wandering around Long Branch, near New York City, sometime back, was asked for an ID by two cops too young to know who he really was. When he couldn’t furnish one, he was taken right back to the resort where he was putting up and staff there vouched for him. And America is Dylan’s own country. Was there a furore? Not that I know of. Not even a little blowin' in the wind.SRK says he’s ``upset and angry’’ because it was his Muslim name that caused all this. Thousands of Muslims are made to go through extra security checks everyday in America and a host of Western countries. Is he equally upset at that? He's probably just pissed that it happened to him, India's mega star. We all know how a lot of Muslims have been subjected to prejudice around the world because many countries see terrorism as an Islamic phenomenon. Yes, it is uncalled for, unjust and maybe wrong. But America is a country that takes the killings of its people with the seriousness it deserves, unlike India whose record on this is shameful, to say the least.Also, because most of the perpetrators of 9/11 were Muslims, America thinks it has to be doubly careful where they are concerned. Had the terrorists been Jews, perhaps it would have looked at Jews with similar suspicion. I was much more aggrieved at President Kalam being frisked. But that’s a dated debate.There are two layers to the SRK incident and we must peel them off with care. One, it is quite ridiculous that Indians feel their icons and superstars are everybody’s icons and superstars. What the heck? If Jet Li came to India tomorrow, the man on the street here would probably call him ‘`Chinky’’ and not give a second look. For that matter, what if G√©rard Depardieu came travelling. How many would know him? Matt Damon was here recently and there wasn’t a traffic jam in Delhi. These guys are huge back home.Moreover, America doesn’t have a culture of fawning the way India has. Mike Tyson was treated like a common rapist and spent most part of his youth in the slammer. Winona Ryder was sentenced to a three-year probation for shoplifting. Chinese born Hollywood actress Bai Ling was fined US 200 dollars for petty theft.More importantly, we are actually aggrieved because we are ``not like them’’. Well, guess what. It isn’t a virtue. We should be like them and take the security of our country and its people with solemn, no-nonsense professionalism. Frisk Brad Pitt when he lands in India next. Give Tom Cruise the same dose. Don’t spare Bill Clinton either. Isn’t he an ex-prez just like Kalam? Who’s stopping you and what’s stopping you? Colonial hangover? Or is it plain lethargy and callousness. Looks like both.We are just whimpering over here like hurt puppies because we feel, ``Oh, but we don’t do it to them’’. Oh no, we don’t. And it’s a scandal. We should. I’ve seen white men – and women – get away in India with murder. Indian women can’t get into some discos wearing a sari. And bouncers will frown at you if you are dressed in a kurta. Have you seen what some of these firangs have on them? No one bats a eyelid.So instead of making SRK’s detention an issue, we should think of upgrading our own security set-up. There’s a lesson in this. And it is a positive one. A day after our own 26/11, there was hardly any security at CST in Mumbai. It can’t get worse than that. The bottom line: Stop fawning, shed the colonial hangover and make no compromise where the country’s safety is concerned. Can we do that or is it too much to ask from a country that’s been free for 62 years but was ruled by white sahibs for 200?

Saturday, August 8, 2009



They come to me with evening,
calm and still and bring me peace
these thoughts of you.
Slowly in the quietness of dusk
they fill me with tranquility.
They make my eyes aware of loveliness of intricate shadings of purple and grey.
They bring to me the far-off faint perfume of all unseen and beautiful flowers.
They tune my ears to drowsy humming sounds of winds and waves and distant bird calls.

These beautiful thoughts of YOU are divine and only mine........

Love YOU Sonai.........