Especially Only Today !

Notice : Next year on the same date, I am going to distribute all my property (!!) to my friends !

Most probably, neither I will die nor you, but we may plan to meet next year on same day, as I am planning to do so .

Many Many Many Many ( 4 times) Happy Birthday to the persons – who are born today. They do save the money of birthday celebrations, and increase the number of 4 candles at once and jump 4 years today.

Round the year we can celebrate –
Happy friendship day ( As every day is new in friendship)
Happy birthday( Every new morning we do feel born )
Happy Valentine Day ( Every moment we love someone)
Happy All Day…..

But today is such a day that it must be celebrated today only because it it comes only after 4 years. So I wish you, Happy Leap (year) Day.. 🙂

But why does these leap years occur ? Read more for answers…

On the personal front, one secret revelation is, Wish If I can get married today anyhow !! Surprised – because I might not needed to keep in memory the marriage anniversary date every year and hear her complains that I forget all days 🙂 At least after 4 years, I could have gifted her a diamond necklace after accumulating money in my gift budget for the four years 🙂

Healing Touch

Clock ticked 4 O’clock and he was getting prepared for the operation. Nurse changed his dress and he was in white. Though he was smiling, but his wife was nervous from inside – unable to understand – what and why its happening with her.

Waiting time was over and the ward boy came with a chair to carry him to the operation theater. Within minutes he will be on anesthesia and though there will be experts to take care , still she feared something. Why not – the doctors too get written the declaration of “no-risk” from the patient.

He sat on the chair and her hands were still touching her chair. He was moving slowly towards operation theater and she had to stay back. Moving two or three steps together – she bent down and hugged him lightly touching her cheeks to his – Wishing him….. 

I was the spectator of this – what kind of touch it was ? It was more than what destiny writes for us. Was it  in the return of the healing touch he had given to her or something else ? Perhaps many of these things only Almighty knows. 

400 Runs of the blog

400th post and there is something to write.

You Run It. “You” meant – the readers – inspirations and everyone around. Here to be specific – you used to be some person – who reads me – otherwise the writings were just meaningless. The calendar kept changing the pages so do grew up my blog interaction. I am writing many of my specific interactions with different blogs, without naming the blog or blogger. The concerned blogger will find, where he / she is. Each Para is dedicated to specific blogger almost chronological order.

She is ground to earth in real life but do appear proud in blog world. Her earlier writing used to be mask free but later on – the mask, she put in her writings – I did not liked. But as she had been my first blog inspiration. I used to thought three years back – if I put comment on her blog – may she will add in her blog roll. But today I think what a stupid I was ( Still I am ) :).

One afternoon, I saw one notice on the blog – as for some personal reason – she is going to delete the blog. Without a second thought – I started saving her pages – one page – two pages – three page. Next I thought to save the comments too. Within 2 minutes – she had done – the worst thing in blog world – she had deleted the blog .It was a blogspot blog. The blog name was free to use or misuse.

I acquired the same url at the same moment. And I re-published the poems and the stories. She read and tried to find out – who put them back. I said to her. A blog friend – whom I found on Orkut later. The writings are still there without her identity.

I was on no one’s blogroll. What to do ! Add some persons’ name on blogroll and kept commenting on their blog – may one day they may add you up. So he was a Pune’s software engineer – in my blog roll and after some days I was on his. The poem collection of his is still nice ones. He will chew his Lucknowi paan and spit smartly on the politicians and anything wrong around.

When feelings just flow down the body, mind and soul – her fingers play with the keyboard. And for her – writing is the only thing – she finds solace. It was her series on mother that caught my attention. Her writings are unique, that you rarely find in the blogs. I do simply adore her respect for cultural values and human relationship. Though she don’t know many of the things, she is full of “whys” – but the interesting fact is she will be available to give lectures on any topic. Anyway, years together, we became the blog friends forever.

She said me – Please start a blog for me. I made not just one – but three with so many templates. She started them but later deleted one good one – that pained me more than her, as wordpress blogs are not recoverable. But I knew – once she will start blogging – she will have a strong network – and I was not wrong. She found her platform through blogging and express herself more freely.

I wanted to make friendship with him – as he was from IIM Bangalore – a carefree blogger. I wanted one chance to get nearer. One day he was seeking help for logo designing – I extended my help. And he now in a very good positioned executive. When I reached Bangalore – I gave him a call – and he replied “Haan haan yaad hai Prem Piyush blog wale !” I was happily surprised.

He is the icon of Hindi blogging and Bangla blogging, extremely helpful person. Even for a small help – he used to be always in front. No doubt – he was again helpful when I asked for help for my Geetanjali translation. He not directly but gave me a link of another blogger – who really helped me.

Once the blog was just dead, I little knew what to write, no themes to write. Little did I knew there are readers without identity. And inspiring lines vibrated – “When you think there are readers around – your natural expression is gone.” And to my right or wrong – came up the whole spectra of poems and stories. Though she is not a frequent blogger, but I will not be surprised when one day there will be her writings in international journals and magazines.

I did found a motherly figure, which has sufferings written like many of the mothers. The glass ceiling struggle sometimes shows there too. She guides to stand up and inspire to move on despite the odds of life – which keeps inspiring you too. Many a times they seem just the lectures – but when we pass through same situations of life – ‘ the experiences’ seems true which seemed ‘lectures’ once upon.

Though she was in known blog circle, but she came late in my linkage. But I initiated with the comments – as she turned out be a painter, poetess, story teller, photographer and something more. She walked along the sun though even facing the fierce sun rays. She promises to be good regular blogger but she only knows, how regular she is ! 🙂

She writes her cooking skils, her normal tit-bits of life. Thats good enough to read. But when I needed help for authentic verification of some Tagore literature known person – she did seek helps of her uncle. And she sent me the corrections and suggestion of my Geetanjali blog. Not many such persons you find around. The extensive travel experience of hers are clear in her writings – that makes her writings interesting.

There was this person, whom I saw evolving a poet because of his love to her Rupsee, and also the person, who is modern in thought and at the same time with his roots deeply routed to the Indian culture and world literature. A person – who will do blogging for a long time, its really nice to feel close to such dedicated persons with poetic talents hidden.

To her I called firebrand writer, but she claimed back that she is a poet at heart. Her writing seeks freedom from political dirt, idiosyncrasy, and fake masks of life. Who is nature loving and bold enough to say straight. She is a bit lazy writer but comes up always with some kind of volcano.

He was again a chain link from one blog to another blog. In his “English words” – in almost each poem of his – forces me to consult the dictionary. The guy – whose blog used to convey – some different way of logical thinking – changed the way I think.

She put her first comment in blog world – in my blog – willingness to write in Hindi. I could not help her at the time. But she found her own way out – today with her own website – she is dedicated to writing poems. She is a grown up kid – for whom I became a E-teacher. A budding poetess – who just dreams that one day her ghazals will be sung by famous voices. I wish her lots of luck.

She is the daughter of renowned poet. In real life , she is like younger sister of Lata di. Her carefree writing about almost everything seems – she is young writer in her 20’s. Though she is a motherly figure but I said her that I will call her by name without any ji. And she replied me personally happily. She uses smiley’s carelessly – as she claims – that helps her to express well 🙂 🙂 . ( I guess Man / Woman never grow up – I have found my mother / father many a times – like a kid girl / boy. )

In these years – on others blog, apart from enjoying, learning and getting inspirations, I saw deleting blogs, deleting posts, and modifying comments, and on my side there were other poems and paintings that I could never publish. My blogroll exist in my memory and assist me online is, my Google Reader, which says me when, where, what is published without delay.

The only thing in the blogworld that makes me happy (and may be you too) is – to find a new post on a blog – which gives a sense of satisfaction after finding that, the blogger exists with possible human feelings !

Thanks Everyone Being Around ! 🙂 I will be Running again …

Valentine’s Red Orchid

“We will meet ”
They had promised –
Hands – in – hands.

On valentine day,
She reached there,
After the half awake night.
On the onset of the dawn,
She sat –
On the same gray stone.
“The little kingdom” –
In the big valley.
She waited for him.
In the morning mist,
Humming with joy.

Looking hiding behind
the Bushes –
And watching –
The occassional passers by,
– If he is coming.

In the cold February,
When the mountains.
Encapsulated  the fog.
She wore the warmth –
Of the leather jacket –
He gifted her.

Nostalgic she was,
Recalling –
Those sweet berries,
That they collected,
From the green shrubs.

She smiled
Recalling his stupidity,
When he –
Searched for the,
The last berry
In her pockets.

Sitting on the stone,
She looked down,
The shallow stream of water,
Seemed calling her,
Despite the chilling cold,
She put her fingers,
In the stream,
And saw there,
Tiny fishes playing –
Who knew her,
Since long.

She sat there till noon,
The faint sun,
Was on head,
But he did not come.

She looked up
Where –
Birds were playing,
Perching on the branches,
Today – the birds –
Seemed to be teasing her.
The Orchid –
Bloomed full –
But they seemed faint.
Though she was hungry,
The berries were –
Untouched still.

She thought to cry,
But she believed,
He will come.

She sat sad –
Thinking so many things,
Good and bad,
But she believed – he will come,
May he will play
Hide and seek,
Again today,
Like ever before.

But she lost her patience,
And she thought to cry.

She shouted his name.
And the valley vibrated.
And the mountains replied,
Imitating her voice,
And reflecting his name back.

But he did not hear.
All these calls.

In the silence again,
The drop of tears,
Fell on her cheeks.
She sat on the stone.
And she said to the stone –
“It seems –  today you are –
As hard – as his heart !”

Even after scolding the stone
She slept on its chest like before,
Putting her hand in the stream.
Waiting for him….
Tears flew –
On the stone –
To melt it down.
But  the Stone
Slipped the tears –
Down the stream
Which mixed with water.

She lied on the stone,
Fingers still in water,
And she felt,
In her fingers,
Somethings struck.
She got up to see –
It seemed a petal,
Of some flower,
She looked up,
May be its orchids,
Or something.
She smelt
It was rose.

“You are here !”
She shouted.
And stood up.

And she searched
In the bushes,
Where he used to hide.
And also looked upon the,
Trees – he used to climb.

Her heart was pounding,
The birds teased again.
The Orchid smiled fake.
She looked down the stream –
There were more petals
Coming –
From the stream above.
One following others.

She walked up the stream,
Trembling with  joy and cold.
She knew his plays –
Of eternity.
But today –
She decided –
She will not talk
With him.
“He had made her cry.”
She ran above the stream
Struggling with the bushes,
Thorns of shrubs,
And the slippery stones.
The icy water –
Freezing her feet.

She found the petals,
Still carried by
The stream of water,
From a source
Now visible.
Bunch of roses,
Struck in the stones,
Flowers braving,
With the water,
Loosing the petals.

And the four twigs of orchids
Struck in his hands –
Lying near the stream.
He seems frozen.
In the freezing cold,
His shivering hands –
Holding the rarest red orchids –
That he talked once
That grows –
Only in the high mountains. 

Title = :)

A false smile,
That’s all I need –
In real life.

Over internet,
I put a smiley –
Not a smile,
That’s done !
Over phone,
I can laugh aloud,
There also its done.

But when you see
My face,
In real life,
Its sad,
As I cried last night.

A genuine smile
Is difficult for me.
Because I am not,
In a position to,
Throw a smile,
Right now.

I need a smile,
Even its fake.

The pains,
The tears,
The fears of –
Dying while living.
Kills me.

I try hard,
To stretch my lips wide.
But eyes don’t help them.
Last night,
I tried to smile,
In front of mirror,
I looked like a clown.
Or may be an insane.

My face,
Everyone says,
Today –
Have lost the smiles,
Its looks dull,
Sad and gloomy.

My face –
Is genuine.
The sadness –
Everyone reads.
They complain-
The missing smile.
The pains –
Only my dear ones feels.

May like many others,
I can put a smile
On my face
Fake one,
Like many other,
Who can show up,
After all the odds,
A smile anytime –
A borrowed type.
And show off,
Well polished tooth,
The painted lips,
Smile smelling like perfume.

I too need a –
A fake smile.

Yeah, I need a smile,
Even its fake,
Because people
Do return back,
It instantly.
And that may help me,
To relive.

🙂 😀

Ha ha… ho ho .. hi hi … he he..

P.S : No more tears… This is 398th post on the blog. Next coming some 🙂 posts to mark 400 th post of this blog.