Till Eternity..........

Edla the goddess of waters,

Of the mighty oceans

Loved her territory.

She commanded her slaves

To twist, to rise, to break,

To split, to swirl, to fade.

She imprisoned her slaves

In the locks of her curls.

In withering heat of the sun,

She guarded each and every drop

Of the waters that she loved.

The waters which were encased

In her glorious charm and royalty,

Promised to pay back their loyalty—

For which they were known

And since generations had grown

One day, a drop of fresh water was born

Into the family of those slaves.

“Only change is constant in nature”, he said.

“No slave I am. I am the master of my will.” He thought.

The heat of his passion to revolt,

Made him rise

But Edla wasn’t swayed.

She called for him

And he dutifully fulfilled her request.

“The purpose of your life is to take my commands”

She tried to persuade.

But the drop of fresh water began to explain.

“My life is mine. I’m here by the accident of birth.”

Impressed by his wits and the confidence he had

Edla, to her surprise, was glad.

He too couldn’t resist the infectious fragrance

Of her noble will.

But the voyagers of paths that never met,

Continued their journeys and nothing was expressed.

Dismissing the air of an evolving emotion,

She set the drop of water to commotion.

And knowingly or unknowingly, he followed the orders.

”I am yours till eternity”

She whispered to herself.

Next day the sun rose from the west

And gradually proceeded overhead.

Edla protected all her loved ones

But her eyes looked for the one who was nowhere to be seen.

The heat of the sun ignited the spark

In the soul of the drop of fresh water.

Protection from the sun was the last thing he’d need.

Even before Edla could glimpse,

The drop of fresh water was eloping with the winds.

A drop of salty water took his position she made sure,

For her pain and grief there was no other cure.

“I am yours till eternity”

She whispered to herself.

He on the other hand,

Was experiencing a new world altogether.

For which he wasn’t designed,

The realities of the mankind.

But the blinding blaze of the golden flame,

Kept him away from himself always.

A part of him was immersed in the joy of satisfaction,

And a part of him knew he wasn’t satisfied.

He wasn’t what he was before.

He wasn’t the drop of fresh water, as Edla had known.

In her castle, Edla built castles in the air

With the memories and impressions

Of the drop of fresh water

Who actually didn’t, but for her—displayed existence.

“I am yours till eternity”

She whispered to herself.

As maturity enveloped him,

He grew a little cold.

Realizations crept in, and so did the

Clouds of gloomy days to come.

The impurities he had gained,

Escaped with the downpour.

And as pure as he was before,

He descended towards his home.

His home....where he truly belonged.

But Edla wouldn’t welcome him.

But Edla wouldn’t accept him.

He was still not what he was.

“I am yours till eternity”

She whispered to herself.

The Autobiography of the Trash Bag

Stop doing your homework from my blogpost, kids.


Warning: Ummm......might sound lame.....Biology holiday homework ;) when i was in....7th or something. So yeah, juvenile it is.

Hi! I am Poly the trash bag.

I started life carrying groceries from a store. Mr. Rakheja took me to his home while carrying packets of rice & some pulses in me. I was overloaded with those packets. When we reached his home I was very happy to see his home painted with bright colors which fascinated me unknown of my dark future. What a relief it was when they took out all the packets out of me.

Till now I was leading a normal life but Mrs. Rakheja was the villain in my life who could not tolerate my happiness. Unfortunately after this I was only seen in a dustbin which was stinking. I spent 24 hours there in dark with so many germs. “I need to get vaccined or I’ll get many diseases.” I thought. But I didn’t know that after this I won’t be taken to a doctor but get dumped in the area’s dustbin provided by the MCD. It stinked even more.

I didn’t leave hope until an MCD truck took me to the dumping sight.

There, I made many friends of my age. Even they had depressing stories. Amongst them Todd was my best friend. We had good time together. The trash bags which were elder than us insulted us, when they saw that we had no waste of chocolates in us. Instead they should have given us some or shown mercy on us but this dumping sight was full of cruel trash bags except for me & my friends. Well exceptions are always there!

I got very old & it seemed the end of my life. But something even worse was yet to happen. I got stuck in the soil which harmed the soil & the plant which was growing there. The plant didn’t receive water, minerals & necessary nutrition from soil & died very soon.

I was feeling very guilty. Finally like other trash bags even I was given the option of being recycled but I didn’t want to hurt this nature again & thus denied this offer.

Finally the fairy came & took me to the sky & now I’m waiting for the entrance list of heaven……………………

Remaining ME: How easy it sounds!

When I saw DDLJ for the very first time, I loved it. Each and every song in it became a reason for me to celebrate. While watching it for the second time, my brother introduced me to the concept of lip singing. He told me that Shah Rukh and Kajol were not actually singing those songs. They were pre recorded and the two of them were conveniently pretending.

I thought he was lying. It was one of his usual tricks to confuse me maybe.

And when I was told that the earth is round, I simply laughed it off. “If the earth is round, then why don’t we ever fall?” was my logic.

These instances seem funny now. But they were subjects of serious discussions for me earlier. These facts challenged my logic and my truth. They now form an integral part of my logic and my truth.

As we keep learning, we keep changing. Still remaining who we were.

Each day I look at myself in the mirror. Who doesn’t in this self obsessed society? And I am what I was yesterday. So how come I am not what I was a year ago?

Changes change us even before we come to know. So are we lost in ourselves and yet losing ourselves? Well the answer is -yes- in my case. I think about me all the time but there are several things which even a stranger would see changing in me, but I wouldn’t.

Ultimately, I discover that “remaining me” is not as easy as it sounds and perhaps not even a good thing. We should always change for the good. But it will always be difficult for me to tell myself,

“I AM NOT WHAT I WAS”

Sugar coated salt!

Dear diary,

I love my life. Well that’s what I should claim. And I do. When I go out in rain, I have somebody to give me refuge. When I am out in sun, I have someone to give me shade. I cry with many, I laugh with them. All so sweet. All so sugary. All so fake.

Today when I was sitting in the bus, I had my usual maddening talk with Moulshree, my bestie. I love her for that. On reaching school I exchanged hugs with tabu, rinch and priyanka. Then went out to search for radz. Found her. Gave a hug. All five of them so sweet. I love spending time with them. I get completely crazy with them. Forget everything. But still.....there’s something which is incomplete.

I come back home. My parents are there. They love me too.

I switch on the pc and log on to my messenger. Some guy sitting miles away insults me. It makes my day. I like that. All I ever wanted. Somebody to insult back. Someone to taunt.

Ankur tells me that he is a genius and that he’s awesome. He is NOT. Trust me. But just the opposite of that.

Thankfully. Luckily.

Goodnight,

Salt dreams,

Ashima

Alone

I hate to admit it's not my composition.....but proud to say that it's a gift....and the best gift ever!

I look around
Moving bodies
But no warm soul
To be found.

Surprises seem
Too far at bay
Laughter,
A memory gone grey.

Alone I stand
A crowd of thousand behind.
Aimless thoughts
Feet slipping over the ground.

The silence whispers
Its fragile words
Breaking away
Leaving an endless mound to climb.

The solace of dreams
Is vanquished
Fading sounds
A child crying
Abandoned and banished.

Myriad Muddle

I am writing a coffin which my intention—

—Will never feel,

Will never receive,

Will never understand.

I am giving heat to the sun.

The world laughs at me.

There is no need.

I am the blue of the sky.

I hate it when the sun shines.

I am the mirror which reflects--

—Another reflection.

I am differentiating abstract –

—from the anonymous.

I am descending to deceive—

— Myself, on my own.