Consuming Love

This is a guest post by Vaisakhi Mishra who blogs at  http://vaisakhimishra.blogspot.in and tweets at @vishvaisakhi

In her own words, here’s who she is:

Cynic blatant but a total happy go lucky person who loves exploring various shades of colours on the canvas of life. I am an engineer who loves poems, painting, singing and photography – which currently seems to be the trend everywhere. I believe in accepting what ever life throws at me and accepting its challenges with a “watch me” attitude and guess everyday finds a new me.

She has composed a special poem as Valentine’s day nears.Here it goes

A Poem By Vaisakhi Mishra


My cold heart whimpers
For it can’t feel the glow
It’s a cracked piece of metal
For all that I know
Where lies turn to truth
It sacrificed just itself
You blamed it to be frozen
And now it has no silver help
But rosier days await you somewhere
And it flutters with the thought
Silently it sings to self
The lullaby of consuming love.
Why love can’t be simple,
Why its castle of glass falls?
What choices can we make-
When we are forced to let go.
Emptiness fills the sorrow pools
Where light mirages memories
Truly said, light is not accredited
If challenged not by darkness always.

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The Heartless Heart

He stared. He stared hard. Those mystic blue eyes shown through the photograph as if she actually wanted him to look at her. He sat by the window with an open mouth. Not by shock, but by being astounded. Tearing his eyes away from her angelic face, he looked out of the window, straight into the night. In his dreams, this moment would be complimented by some deeply romantic and slightly sensual music with lovey-dovey lyrics as he stared into the stars, tracing out her name with his fingers, in an outlandish attempt to reach something far away. But in the mediocre reality of today, all he heard when he stared into a black, starless sky was the barking of the stray hounds and the religious tune which was now every other car’s reverse warning tone. Still, one thing remained. His heart pounded just the way he imagined it would.
How had he reached this place? At 17 this poor chap was supposed to be ruing over how girls don’t dress provocatively enough and then after a sad nod, return to his textbook. Instead he was sitting by a window like a love struck idiot. He pondered deeply over his life and believe you me, with genuine concern. You see, Rahul had always been one of those “good, sorted” people. Academically sound with a flair for his talents, he was a friendly guy with a regular life. He had a level head, but a delicate heart was what formed his Achilles’ heel. Planning and scheduling was his forte, and somehow, he had forgotten to consider his heart in his life plan. Or maybe he had, like an over smart MBA graduate from a fancy college, allotted a future time for his romantic pursuits. But, since when has the human heart considered the brain’s advice? Everyone knows that the heart is heartless itself.
He shifted uncomfortably as he considered doing what anyone might have done- “asking her out”. He squirmed as different scenarios jogged his mind faster than the square root of energy divided by mass. The fear of rejection, ostracized reactions by parents, the inevitable break-up, the emotional impact, all of it struck him in one go. Just as he was about to cringe in prospective fear, a thought flashed through his mind. Sitting by the beach, watching the sunset with her, with her small delicate fingers in his long but delicate ones. The smile on their faces and her awe, love and a bit of annoyance struck laugh as he showed her the sunset twice just because of his textbook. Her eyes would light up when he spoke of…
“RAHUL! Dinner’s ready, put the plates on the table, Ridhima will serve the food and I’ll make the rotis!”
His mother’s voice broke his chain of thoughts. He smiled, although the fake one with a tinge of sadness as he acknowledged the odd thoughts he just experienced. He quickly exited from the “View Display Picture” menu of his Blackberry and started towards the dining table. As he headed out of the room, his eyes were reflected in the mirror. To a bystander, they were the eyes of a geek, a social nobody, a love struck idiot who had no chance with any girl, let alone the girl of his dreams. But all I saw was conflict, grief and joy. All I saw was a seventeen year old boy, in a state, he didn’t deserve to be.


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Love,Peace And Happiness By Rituraj Verma-A Review

 

Life is an oddity. Everyone seeks different things at different times. To a 6th grader, happiness would be a 90+ score in maths but to a 42 year old woman, it could be the smile on her child’s face. Love at the age of 15 means that you are in a relationship for more than a year or two. Strangely, it stands in a different spectra altogether for a 34 year old. This book, ladies and gentlemen is a unique work just because of its different approach.
This 223 paged novel is not for the weak hearted or for fantasy fans. Using interconnected short stories, Verma has created a niche for his writing by exploring something narrowly restricted but yet open to a vast audience. This is how unique the Indian literature readership is. By bringing out lively characters, near life like situations and different walks of an Indian’s life, LPH becomes a inner probe as each story challenges you to find something in yourself which the characters with their elaborate descriptions, complement.
One of the best parts of this book is that the characters are not people unlike us. They are simple personas replicated from real life which everyone can simply relate to. I completely agree with the author when he says that in all probability, we have met people like these in different phases of life. Some are winners, some are extraordinary achievers, some are plain losers, some are damaged, and some are disturbed. But the point remains that the character portrayal in this book is excellent and are more alive than expected. Also the “hatke” factor of the book is that it has URLs at the end of every story to alternate endings (a reader can also submit his or her own alternate ending online) to each short story. Thus, each story, although sticking to a central theme and message, gives you the ability to fiddle around and decide the recipe of the perfect match to the story.
Arriving to a gray area which conflicts with me, I found the philosophical discussions expounded by the characters odd. Not that I’m against it but to me, characters having spiritual conflicts and arguments about petty issues was weird simply because as I mentioned earlier, the characters are more lively than usual books and we can associate them with someone we know. Now, in that context, their conversations, if not in sync, create a paradoxical oddity. Although the idea of proposing deep ideas via character thoughts and conversations is nothing new but Rituraj’s bluntness and the book’s X factor in itself pulls it down.
Overall, the book was a good read. Definitely a must if in need for a inner seeking but won’t recommend it for a fun filled holiday or enjoyment weekend. Such books are special and heavy duty, suitable for reading with a deep heart and an open mind.
The Standing Coin Rating: 6/10
Like:  Brilliant life like characterization, unique concept of alternate endings online, Indian audience focused
Dislike:  Spiritual discussions although profound, seem to be unnatural for the characters. They feel like a hand sewn onto an amputated man. Works, but just not the right grip
Click here to buy from Amazon or Flipkart

A Mother Claps The Loudest

A poem dedicated to my mother(Sandhya Gupta), my inspiration, my everything. Whatever we may think of them, we always love them and can not live without them.


Her eyes would shine brighter than the sun
When the one on the dais is her son
Even when a bird builds her nest,
A mother always claps the loudest

Her eyes shed tears of joy unbound
When her daughter helps an injured hound
Even when you ace the tough test,
A mother always claps the loudest

Her loving touch takes away the scathing pain
When she chides you for slipping in the rain
Even when you’re not able to give your best,
A mother always claps the loudest

Nothing beats the huge smile on her face when you win a trophy in the race
Even when you finish last, don’t you ever fret
Because, come what may,
A mother always claps the loudest

If all the world’s a play, and you’re a player
It was for your well being that even an atheist sent up a prayer
Whenever you’re alone or to many a guest
Remember your mother because,
A mother always claps the loudest





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Debugging Life

Exemplary problems are always a part of someone’s lives. never will you find a person devoid of a problem(and if by an odd chance you find one, the person will be devoid him/herself).at many crossroads of life, we find ourselves in situations when some of those slow beats wale Bollywood tracks play in the background and those cryptic lyrics make sense. That’s the time when we need to debug our life.


Life is an extraordinary fairy tale with its own twists and turns which may lead us to the beautiful wide windows of happiness or to the gallows of sadness and depression. We may be dipped into the hot scalding oils of anger and invariable revenge but we may also be thrown into the limitless sky of unyielding joy. Still, there are numerous times when we feel ki kaash life was like an iPod; bundled with its own play, pause, fast forward and rewind buttons. Just a small of any of them could control time, where in everything was in our hands and still under control. But unfortunately this concept shall always remain a fantasy (unless Dr. Sheldon Cooper succeeds).

So at such unpredictable moments, what do we do? Do we give up and lose hope? no we stand up, throw a few punches at life and say,” you can’t beat me punk!” I know it is easy to say so and damn tough to apply and follow. Recently I myself went throw one of such moments and I admitted defeat. But as I recover, I have learnt the importance of being in control of ourselves. A simple mantra to do this was once told to me by a friend and later on by my parents. It goes like this: “In life, you will always come across a number of hurdles which will deter your vision of your goal; but don’t lose hope and carry on with your life because your manzil will not be as far from you as it seems.” And believe me when I say, achieving that one dream which you have always pined for is worth the entire wait and hurdles in the world.

Coming back to the topic at hand, each one of us has our own debugging method. Some write, some sit and think, some tune into music and some sleep. I personally love to sit by my favourite window with my favourite music playing on my iPod. But whatever your method maybe, always keeps in mind the biggest secret of this universe; “Life in itself is a unique gift; but getting to play with your gift in the human form is the ultimate souvenir. Cherish your passions, enjoy your time and of course believe in everything and everything will believe in you.

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Dil Dosti Fullstop

Everyone has a different definition of a friend. Although we don’t have a specific guideline as to what or who a dost should be, nevertheless we always end up around a bunch of people who you don’t know why but you just love being around.


To me, dost is someone around whom I don’t have to think before I open my mouth. Regardless of the friend’s gender, caste or background I can openly speak my mind without thinking of the consequences. I have female friends with whom I can openly talk about a hot actress, Muslim friends with whom I openly tease on the basis of their religious preferences and of course people from specific castes with idiosyncratic habits. Many may feel that this is extreme or vague but I believe that my friend knows that I do not mean any real harm and I always speak whatever I want to.

Although we meet up with several people over our lifetime, not all of them are your friends (even though you may label them so).A friend is someone who is far more special and irreplaceable. Say, a friend is someone who trusts you even when you are not trustworthy, someone who always is positive about you and someone who echoes your sentiments. In spite of the picture painted by modern society, friends are those who curse the professor who failed you in his/her paper before asking you to study for the re-examination.

The springing up of social networks has somewhat weakened and strengthened the bond which friends share. Confused? Well, in case of friends who grew up and bonded way before the advent of social networking, websites like Twitter and Facebook has enabled them to grow more interpersonal and close(I mean it’s great to know what weird pose your bestie can make or how your closest friend loves watching Gossip Girl(Yes She Does!)) . But, if you consider the cases of those who were registered on these websites as a part of a social trend, I believe social networks have caused a lot of trouble. Cases of suicides and squabbles over not liking of posts or photos etc. have become almost routine news for everyone of us.

However, woh kaisa ya kaisi bhi ho, a friend will never deny you. Technology continues to sew us into a tightly knit blanket and just like the warm, snuggly blanket, your freinds and you form a unbreakable and lovable universe, which although may be plauged by it’s own highs and lows,or may seem disintegrated in a series of misunderstandings.But,know this: No matter how high or how powerfully you throw a ball upwards,it always returns to you.The same way, no matter how much fight or argue, sale ghoom ke apne paas he aayenge.

This was a post to all my friends, the true ones.


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