THE L-WORD.

Love. A four letter word. That word which makes hearts melt and life sweeter than sugar. The world moves by the power of love. The trust we put in it, the fact that there is always someone to compliment us when we feel our worst, that when we turn our back we know there is someone to make us stronger when we fail...just the mild fact to know there is always someone out there praying for our well-being. A peck on the cheek from a man to his better-half, or a passionate kiss between two young lovers, or an affectionate kiss on the forehead by a mother to her child, a moist kiss on the head by a grandfather to his grand-children or even a bear hug between two best-friends. A token of love expressed in whichever way gives the happiest feeling. So give someone a cordial smile or a big hug and make their day. Because no matter how small a four letter word it is, it is indeed the most powerful tool.

Miss Misfit

Hair tied in a bun,

A grey oversized coat,
She looked at herself in the mirror
For her, dressing up was no fun.

She picked up her bag
And walked on the crowded streets
None noticed as she entered the college premises
For her, college was no fun.

She sat in the corner of a class,
Staring into space.
Neither her batchmates nor her teachers ever bothered to break her reverie,
As she observed everything silently.

She tried hard to find similarities,
To find someone who could understand her,
Someone who noticed the imperfections of the world,
Someone who, like her, was a mute spectacle in this loud world.

People unnerved her,
Her parents' expectations left her dejected with herself.
She tried hard to fit in the perfect shoes,
But always ended up in a misfit pair.

She had no sense of humour,
No one to entertain her in her bleak world.
When the rest of the world celebrated a feast after a day's labour,
Her tears, her only companion, arrived every night at an hour so misfit to cry.

Peek in her journal,
And notice this misfit world,
As she talked about a millionaire bragging about the unimportance of money
Or the untimely death of a mother on delivering her baby.

Finally after a good seven days,
She reached to a decision after much debate.
She swallowed the pills and dreamt forever.
Alas! Even this time she chose the most unfit hour.

For her mother had finally decided to break the ice,
To talk to her daughter and be merry and nice.
She opened her door only to discover her still,
At such a misfit moment she had stopped her life-mill.

Dressed in a perfect white gossamer, She was carried to the cemetery
And as she was laid in her grave,

The coffin fit in perfectly,
Her very first jigsaw puzzle that finally fit into place.

Because who doesn't want to be special?

Having been a little inspired by all those boring lectures on life and aim in life in school, surprisingly I have a vision now. I'm tired of looking at others and thinking how lucky THEY are (read:Kate Middleton). They're great public figures. They've done something special and have a huge fan following. (Also read:Nina Dobrev). But they are always THEY. Someone ELSE. Not ME. These feelings are not only confined to the media, to the glamour world. From politicians who have power to billionaires who have numerous cars to even normal students in school. Students who inspired others and me by doing something proud. Like written a novel, or won a gold medal in sports or  toppers in academics. Young scholars sprouting from among us. It's  incredible. For a moment there is a feeling of awe, followed by a little green ray of jealousy. Why always THEM why not ME. I did cross this hurdle of becoming a part of THEM when I became the student sub-editor of my school. For years I had been looking upto the council members and wondering how lucky THEY were and now I am there. It feels hellacious! 

This feeling was yet again achieved when my band, Dictated Democracy, performed in a competition Yet again I wasn't one among the crowd. I was there on the stage. I was one of THEM. The feeling was beyond great.
So having said all this I have a vision. I want to do something big something great which gets me a title that others have an eye for. I want to be placed in the most desirables' shoes and feel what it's like. I want to be a part of THEM where others are dying to get into MY shoes.

The Forbidden Fruit

                                                       

The world is broken, fraught with lies, murders, assassins and corrupt ruthless humans. Why are they even called humans when so inhumane is their nature?  Humans live on discrimination. To be more powerful than someone pleases them, gives them a sense of security. Such is the human nature that even if we all were to belong to the same caste. colour, creed, worship the same God, live in the same territory, we would find another reason to be prejudiced against.

It is hard not to be tempted to the sinful fruit pulped with wrath, greed, sloth, pride, lust, envy and gluttony. The seven deadly sins. The short-term gains are alluring. It is over-whelming to see two brothers raised by the same mother be filled with so much malice with not even a tear to shed if they killed each other.

What does man not do to satisfy his greed?  The flame of selfishness burns brightly in his eyes. Pride swallows modesty. Chivalry has died. Our life is all about being ostentatious. It is a gamble of the worth of our jewels, clothes and cars, of the number of followers or the number of ‘likes’.

As soon as this bubble of fame and luxury pops and all our valuables go down the drain, that is when we close our eyes  and repent but unfortunately we realise it is just too late to undo what has already been done.