किस्मत की परछाईयाँ--------

हम जो जबाँ पर न ला पाये -
वो जमानें की दस्तकों नें पूरी कर दी,
दिलों को खुषताकील कर के महफ़िल जो हमारी सजा दी |
ऐतराज़ की कोई गुंजाईश हम क्या रखते
 बेइंतहा वफ़ा जो हम पर कुर्बान कर दी ||

Dedicated to Taapsi on 14th March 2014

A Letter Dedicated to My Daughter

14 March, 1985

When you were born,

Apart was I torn…………

Named you an ugly tadpole

But then you were my foal .

 I watched you grow everyday

I heard myself silently pray

Let my daughter’s inner beauty

Mesmerise the outer world

And the thought itself sent me swirl,
The refinement and the attraction grew

All my misconceptions I threw

Do you know how much you mean to me?
As you grow into what you will be.
 From just beneath my heart
 Stupefied, I knew your own life will now start.

 Sometimes to you I seem harsh and so unfair,
but one day you will see, I taught you well because I care
With a chuckle and a smile, and your years so quickly to fly, 

 I had a bag full of tears to cry.
As you begin your growth to womanhood, wherever  you go
You'll always be my source of admiration, a fact you must know
 Within you feel no fear, standing by your convictions

staying upright and honest , will find you no restrictions

 Sitting  before you are your dreams and  ambitions
Take the world by its tail, and fulfill your mission
On your 29^th Birthday my beautiful dove,
do------ accept your Mother's ever heartfelt Love !

Taapsi's Odyssey ( from birth, March 1985 to marriage, Dec.2013)

Conscientious Awakening

Sometimes I wish I were able to win others over to my way of life and thought processes. My convictions were lofty and noble with a willingness to serve. At one time(2004) I had begun to realize that my long standing, coping mechanisms were failing me and that the denial of His illness in which I had operated for nearly 5 years of my life, were causing more damage than preventing it.

My efforts to handle the situation were many times met with derision. I knew I had to delve too deep to keep up my spirits and get my emotional rejuvenation. It would be a worthwhile endeavour. There were skirmishes and altercations but I held on to myself. My bond with my inner self cannot be deciphered in words but my loud conversation with the recesses of heart gave me a life’s lesson of humility and humour.

Now I had a hidden optimism like a blind man talking about the powers of colours. It was like saying that” Dying is a very hard way to know about life.”

Unhappy is the women who awakens from youth’s ignorance to find herself in the house of a man who showers her with gifts and riches and clothes her with generosity, yet is unable to touch her heart with the living flame of love nor satisfy her spirits with the divine wine that should flow from a man’s eyes into a woman’s heart.

Let all find this burgeoning romance and live in the essence of LOVE.

The Priceless Mastercard

A ludicrous comment on life lead by me, a pulsating thought to make an animated chip which would define with all its might ,the secrets of my oceanic depths.
A flutter of past images, some fuzzed others with much clarity. I vehemently tried to disregard these and said to myself "I need a better life for myself ,scruples be damned."
Then came the catalytic figure with the rustic yet suave splendour who softly whispered in my ears that it was time for me to up the fun quotient in my life. With online communications I was conceiving an image rightly with the flow of personal advices accelerated by so many factors. It was now imperative to hold on to this figure and unbolt my feelings.
The languorousness in me had vanished and the tasks lined up ahead seemed no longer arduous.My emotional standards were on a high, I had a found new dimensions and the answers were spilling within my heart with human inquisitiveness. My life had got its renaissance--------
I was now engrossed with a  'Do it Yourself ' job, like creating a great wavelength music based on life as it portrays itself. I felt that just writing prolific sentences was not enough. I searched the computer to find a personalised template which could define me but soon realised that I cannot be myself on that electric, techno phonic device.
Then writing began again with microscopic, introspective details but I earnestly desired not to have a vociferous or a tumultuous description about myself.
SO finally the cartoon in me decided that towards the end I am myself and that nobody else deserved to sing my life's musical choir.