... fatal absolution... as much zenith as it is my waterloo...

... an incorrigible inane insane lost far too many fragments of the withered soul en route the quest for forgiveness only to realize no absolution is ever possible without finding the missing pieces first...

... haasil jama chaar din, kaafir ko mile hashr ki chaah mein...
... zaae do intezaar karke; do barbaad honge ab nijaat mein...

... alas, the wasted is meant to remain wasted, until wasted...

... naar-e-dozakh se haal-e-bayaan karta raha...
... kuch aag bhi na bujhi, kuch daag bhi jalta raha...



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The jokes which make me laugh unending until I cry...

The jokes which make me laugh unending until I cry...

1. Lokesh is sane.

2. "I love ya" are the three immortal words which won't go below par.

3. God.

4. Soulmates.

5. Ya can like 'n unlike but ya can't love 'n unlove.

6. Always 'n forever actually means always 'n forever.





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Instead of living every moment until I live, am dying every moment until I die...

... kaho tum mujhe farebee toh yeh koi fareb nahin...
... taqdeer mein par mujh se zyada daghaa kaabiz ho jaise...
... kyun miley they do ajnabi dost ban falak se door kahin...
... uss saath ki kashish marr kar bhi chhudaaoon kaise...

What haunts me isn't why ya left... But why we had met if it wasn't meant to be...

Life isn't the same... 'n sans ya around, even the death won't be the same.



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... munasib kaho mujhe zaleel ya samjho muqaddar hai parvaane ka jalna... ranjish khud ke vajood se, nahi jaanta ki deewangi ya pashemaani meri...

... ruki meri zindagi ko chalane ki koshish jo ki hawa ke tez jhonko ne...

... yaad aaya bebaak paravaaz tha kabhi main bhi alaam-e-awaargi mein...

The popular perception forever was that I was an incorrigible, incorrect 'n immoral to the core... staking more than the bargain... but it was never a game for me so I wasn't looking at winning...

Silly me, it was a game 'n I lost... Big time!
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Numb 'n Number...

... na tareekh, na mausam, ab na yeh badalte rishtey...
... tab bhi hairaan nahi hota jab badalate hai farishtey...

In college, riding upon my RX100, whenever I felt the bite of the winters, sans any protection gear, would open all the buttons on my shirt. The chill would kill me for the initial few minutes but 'en my body would go numb. I wouldn't feel cold.

Probably my soul has gone numb...




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The final rites... of an eternally wrong...

... na do gaz zameen chahiye, na do gaz kafan...
... zarra khawab hoon main, na ho paonga dafan...

... an inane insane has withered within unreal 'n surreal...
... scorn me as a decimated desire, don't bother for a burial...




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Always 'n forever...

... jaahil hoon, be-khabar ki aaqabat mein mera mukaam kya hoga...

... par yakeenan meri har saans rahegi gulaam teri, mujh se azaad hone tak...

... like everything else, will remain clueless too...
... why, if ever, we were or weren't meant to be...

... I do know however, this life 'n beyond, always 'n forever...
... every breath I take, until I breathe, is owned by thee...
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... samajhiye isse bhi intehaa mere fareb ki... apne zakhmo ko daghaa diya ki bhar gaye ho...

God: Whoa!! Aren't ya a self confessed atheist, what are ya doing here?

Me: Wandering, just as ya always 'n forever intended me to be.

God: Let me rephrase, what brings a faithless insanity to me now?

Me: Nothing... I was nothing; 'n I mean nothing.

God: One wish if I were to grant ya?

Me: Living isn't important for me, dying without regrets surely is; please see that I die without regrets.
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See you online... © Sangeeta Bhargava 2010... Original post @ http://sangeetabhargava.blogspot.com/2010/11/see-you-online.html

See you online...

© Sangeeta Bhargava 2010

This short story was awarded second prize by the bestselling Writers' Forum magazine.

Original post @ http://sangeetabhargava.blogspot.com/2010/11/see-you-online.html

_________________________________________

1st MAY

Hey, saw you online so wanted to ask you about your opinion on the debate going on in the chat room right now. Do you also feel what I said was wrong?

By the way, my name is Tina. Come to MSN if you want to be my friend.

Love Tina.

__________________________________________

2nd MAY

Neel read the personal message over and over again. It was past midnight but he was still awake. This was the first time in weeks that it was not pain but excitement that had kept him up. He could not wait for Tina to come online. She would be his first online friend.

Okay, she was online now.

Tina: Hey dude.

Neel: Hey.

Tina: Thanks for supporting me in the chat room yesterday. I didn't mean to hurt or insult anyone but just had to say what I felt. It was not my fault that people got so defensive. Anyways…

Neel: You know, people get defensive when they know that they are in the wrong but don't want to admit it. By the way, how come you're up so late?

Tina: I'm studying. My A levels are going on.

Neel: You are in school?

Tina: Yup, 6th form.

Neel: I see. Got to go. Bye.

Tina: Bye.

__________________________________________

3rd MAY

Tina: Hey Neel. Why did you leave so abruptly yesterday?

Neel: You want the truth?

Tina: Yes.

Neel: Umm…….I'm 28.

Tina: Oh!

Neel: Well?

Tina: Well what?

Neel: Does it matter that I am 11 years older than you?

Tina: Nah.

Neel: So – still friends?

Tina: Of course.

Neel: Okay, got to go now. The old hag is here to give me my sponge.

Tina: Hag? Sponge?

Neel: Will tell you tomorrow.

Tina: Bye. Catch you tomorrow.

Neel: Yup.

__________________________________________

4th MAY

Tina: So what do you do apart from chatting?

Neel: I was a pilot.

Tina: OMG! You're a pilot?

Neel: I said I WAS.

Tina: ?????

Neel: I met with an accident about three months back.

Tina: Oh, I'm sorry.

Neel: Don't be.

Tina: Now I get it – the old hag and the sponge….

Neel: Yup. Now you know why I'm always online – I have no life, no future.

Tina: Why this pessimism? Are you bedridden?

Neel: No, I will be able to walk eventually, but I cannot fly an aircraft again. Can't even play football ever again. You see, my knee was completely smashed in the accident.

Tina: At least you are not handicapped. There are so many things you can still do.

Neel: You don't understand. Flying was my life.

Tina: So? It's best to accept what life throws at you, with a smile.

Neel: What do YOU know about life? You are still in school. You haven't even seen life. You have no idea what it is like to be in so much pain that you pass out. Do you know what it is like to be in constant pain 24 hours a day, 7 days a week? And no amount of painkillers can dull that pain. Do you know what it is to lie in bed all day when previously you had spent every single waking moment on the move?

Neel angrily logs out.

__________________________________________

5th MAY

Tina: Are you still mad at me?

Neel: No. My temper comes down even faster than it goes up.

Tina: Well, you were right. After all I'm just 17. I have yet to see the world. In my entire life of 17 years, 4 months and 26 days, I have never been depressed. All my problems are taken care of by my parents. I have a wonderful supportive family with no deaths or divorces. So who am I…?

Neel: Hey, stop this emotional nonsense. You know you're far more mature than your years.

Tina: Am I?

Neel: Aren't you?

__________________________________________

6th MAY

Tina: Yippee, exams are finally over.

Neel: Cool! So now you're free to party all day.

Tina: No, now I have to work doubly hard to win the Jane Austen scholarship. I hope to become a scribe one day. Then I wouldn't have to live on my parents' money. It feels terrible. I'm 17.5, yet have not earned a penny in my life.

Neel: So you want to be a writer? Interesting.

Tina: Yes. I want to create a character that will outlive me.

__________________________________________

7th MAY

Tina: It must have been something flying a plane! I've never even driven a car.

Neel: It was mind-blowing. Absolutely exhilarating. Flying through those clouds – touching the very gates of heaven. I felt as though I was God Himself, looking down on his creation.

Tina: Tell me something, but first promise me that you won't get upset this time.

Neel: I promise.

Tina: Got any passion other than flying?

Neel: Nope.

Tina: No, seriously?

Neel: Well, now and then I do enjoy playing computer games.

Tina: There you go. Why don't you do a computer course? Become an IT professional or something?

Neel: You mean go back to school at this age? You got to be kidding.

Tina: There is no age for learning. I would rather be dead than stop learni

Neel: Yes, my guru.

Tina: So will you at least think about it?

Neel: Yes guru.

__________________________________________

8th MAY

Tina: So what have you decided?

Neel: That Twilight is way better than Madagascar 2.

Tina: Not that stupid. I am talking about the course.

Neel: I've decided not to. I left college seven years ago. It's impossible to go back.

Tina: Join an adult or home study programme.

Neel: Nope, it won't work.

__________________________________________

10th MAY

Neel: Where were you yesterday? Angry with me?

Tina: No. What you do with your life is none of my business. I'd gone to the cinema to see Assassination of Jesse James. You can't imagine how GOOD Brad Pitt looked! I had an idiotic grin plastered on my face throughout the movie. Oh my God, I'm still reeling under the effect. Don't I sound like a gone case?

Neel: Tell me, are you pretty?

Tina: Well, I guess, umm, that's what people say.

Neel: What do you look like? Is your hair short or long?

Tina: Does it matter?

Neel: Nope.

Tina: Have you seen Black?

Neel: Nope, I'm not a movie buff.

Tina: Go and see it. If the heroine of that movie, who is deaf, dumb and blind, can do her graduation, I don't see why you can't.

__________________________________________

11th MAY

Neel: I have some news.

Tina: You've decided to do the course.

Neel: Gosh, you can even read my mind now. Yup, I've decided to give it a shot and all because of you.

Tina: I'm flattered.

__________________________________________

12th MAY

Neel: Hey, where have you been all day? I wanted to tell you that my plaster's being cut tomorrow. We're gonna party all night.

Tina: Oh cool, have fun.

Neel: Won't you dance with me?

Tina: Silly, don't you know I can't dance?

Neel: Why not? I'll teach you. Seriously, if we meet one day, I'll take you to the most happening disco in town.

Tina: That can never happen, Neel. I am paralysed waist down.

Neel stared at the screen. It was past midnight. The only sound he could hear was the tap - DRIP DRIP DRIP….as the words slowly sunk in.

__________________________________________

© Sangeeta Bhargava 2010

Most of the work posted on this blog is the work of the author and therefore remains the writer's copyright.
remains the writer's copyright. cyright.
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The Yellow Saree... A heartwarming short story...© Rajiv Ramanujam... Original post @ http://m.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=497090642596&fbb=r8f26d42b&refid=22#anchor_fbid_497090642596

The Yellow Saree...

A heartwarming short story...

© Rajiv Ramanujam 

Original post @ http://m.facebook.com/note.php?note_id=497090642596&fbb=r8f26d42b&refid=22#anchor_fbid_497090642596

________________________________________

Saturday morning.

Rahul was at the wheel of his car and waiting. His wife had stepped off to buy something for Rahul's older brother.

Saturday morning.

November and its first chills were setting in.

While randomly looking out, Rahul's gaze settled on an old woman's face. She may have been in her late 60's, small, slender. Her grey hair in a bun, in a yellow saree, a small purse clutched in her hand, and a cloth bag on her shoulder.

Probably she was a Bengali, as the locality was home to many of them.

A lined, expressive face, with eyes which seemed to have seen a great deal.

Rahul was a traveler, and was used to observing people. She was patiently waiting for the traffic to pass.

In the time it takes for a heartbeat to pulse, or a nerve ending to beat, Rahul suddenly knew who it was.

His childhood friend Ranjan's mother!

Rushing out, he walked up to her and stammered, "Mrs. Banerjee... I mean Sharmila Aunty... It's me, Rahul..."

She turned. Those expressive eyes scanned his face. Then that radiant smile which lit up a whole room appeared. Her hand gently came up and stroked his face, "Beta Rahul... Is it really you? How many years has it been?"

"Ranjan?"... "Uncle?"..., Rahul asked...

"Ranjan? In America. New York. Didn't you know?"

Guiltily he realized he had lost touch.

And Uncle?

That was the only time, that radiance dimmed a little.

"He passed away. 6 years ago"

"Oh I am so sorry", was all that came out.

"It's ok Rahul, he was ready to go. But you please come home. Remember those chops you boys liked so much? I can make them for you again".

Suddenly, Rahul's phone rang. His wife calling him. Quietly, she said, "ok, beta, do come over", and with a quiet dignity, she walked away.

Driving away, Rahul realized he had not asked her number, or the address, or even Ranjan's whereabouts.

A snapshot of childhood had appeared, and vanished.

Almost like a dream.

A quick glance at the rear view mirror.

Gone.

Snapshots... Childhood... Memory...

________________________________________

As I was done reading the above short story by Rajiv Ramanujam, I felt even more empty than I do otherwise... It numbed me, unnerved me... The ever growing vacuum just became humongous... The hole became a crater...

Ironically the more technology we now have access to, the more detached we have become... That's how the life has become to be...

Life has taught me, 'n taught me well, at times in subtle 'n at other times in a brutal way to differentiate 'n respect between all the things that are meant to be 'n aren't meant to be... But losing the connect with reality isn't how I ever wanted it to be...
________________________________________

Epilogue...

Repeatedly calling one particular number from my hand phone over last one hour, I got a trifle bit miffed... constantly was getting busy tone... WTF, what has come over people, how can anyone remain inaccessible in this age 'n time... I mean, who has the audacity to continuously talk over one hour without realizing that there may be someone somewhere urgently trying to reach 'em... at least have the call waiting activated, for God's sake...

Shoot... It dawned upon me... I was trying to call my own hand phone number...

In a desperate attempt to reach I, me, myself, had failed to connect, not without reason perhaps... I was failing time 'n again, in every attempt, to reach myself... 'n it wasn't a technology glitch... my inner core had become inaccessible to the facade I portray to the outside world...

Is it a realization; is it a revelation... I don't know... perhaps more aptly, I won't know as I have always been brain challenged...

Surely more than anything, losing connect with myself is gonna be my nemesis, my bane, my Waterloo...

I have dug my own grave... 'n oblivious of it, I am walking towards it... nah... am running towards it...

Life won't give me a second chance...

Call waiting isn't activated...
________________________________________
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... khalish ki na sahi par shor ki yaqeenan hui ab intehaa... multavii ho dhadkan toh shayad kaafir ko sakoon aaye...

... Khuda se kamm shikavaa, khud se zyada hoon bezaar...
... halaak ho ke bhi wafaat ko kyun rehta hoon be-qaraar...

I blame no goddess, not even my creator...
cursing surely only myself, I am the crater...
dying every moment in an eternal pain...
wonder why 'en I yet await to perish again...
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... it ain't the heart that beats me anymore; but that it beats...

Had read this during schooling... possibly a zillion years ago...

Haar ki Jeet...

By Sri Sudarshan, a writer well known for his short stories...

Here it goes...

__________________________________________

Baba Bharthi was a monk who used to live in a village temple serving the temple 'n the people in the village.

The only worldly possession he had, was his horse Heera, who was indeed a really fine mustang.

The horse was pretty famous in the neighboring areas 'n one fine day this beautiful animal was noticed by Khadag Singh, the infamous dacoit.

Absolutely smitten by the beauty of the horse, he desperately tries to buy him from Baba Bharthi. When Baba refuses to sell, he threatened Baba with dire consequences 'n leaves.

Few months later, Baba riding on his beloved Heera noticed a crippled guy on the road who seemed to have a lot of trouble walking. The crippled begged Baba for a ride into the village. Moved by the guy's plight Baba helped him onto the horse. As soon as he was firmly up on the horse, the crippled pushed Baba away. It turned out that the cripple was none other than Khadag Singh in disguise. He sternly told Baba that since he was in possession of the horse it belonged to him, also warning the Baba not to ever try searching for the horse.

Just as he was leaving, Baba told Khadag Singh that he may indeed have the horse but also requested him not to disclose this episode with anyone else lest people lose faith in the cripples 'n others in need 'n refused help citing this particular incident as an example.

Moved by this noble thought, Khadag Singh returned the horse back to Baba Bharthi.

__________________________________________

Ironically though, this moral stayed with an inane immoral, just as everything else, whatever am told, I read, see or experience, does too...

__________________________________________

... beshaq kaafir se yeh haar, Khuda ko thi naagavaar..
... chahat mein teri, karta tha tujhe uss se zyada pyaar..
... buttun ki ibaadat duniya chodh na de haqeeqat jaan...
... Khuda na tera zikr, zubaan pe ab aata hai meharban...
__________________________________________

... zillion years 'n yet I dared to remember the lesson... seriously, I need to get a life... what an absolute loser I am... but I surely am glad ya won...

same wishes as always for ya dudette... lambi umer ho, dukh word ka kabhi pata bhi na chale... ameen!

same curse for me... muqaddar ke sitam ko samajh ke muqaddas, yeh majnoon dhadkane... ek khandar pe pehra deti ab bhi muqarrar, jaise dastuur ho koi...

_________________________________________
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... as long as JWBL/Absolut can make me believe it's an utopian world, I am game; the moment they fail me, I would certainly fail for the last time too...

... taufiiq kaho ya bekasii, badalti hawaon ne badla mahual hai...

... ranjish ko samajhiye apna aur mohabbat se keejiye haul hai...

... na shikavaa na shikaayat, na kissi aur se koi gilaa hai...

... ek farebi sawaal hoon main, mujhe yeh pata chala hai...

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Don't waste me a tear when I die... Insanity perished the moment ya had said goodbye...

... hoon hujoom mein akela, jaise meri mayyat pe laga ho koi jamghat...

... shor-gul hai tanhaai, shayad laash pe deemak ne lagaya hai majmaa...

... like a termite infested corpse, am shouting a deafening silent cry...

... final futile try to escape the loneliness inside the coffin of a sly...




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... want my epitaph to read, "wasn't ever at peace; now resting forever in pieces"...

... pledged my eyes for donation when I was 12... 'n they have been waiting for over a quarter of a century now for me to honor the pledge... seriously, how lame am I in failing to keep my word... would want my dead body to be handed over to any nearest hospital, so that, if possible, they can extract all the organs that may yet be viable for a transplantation into another human... whatever remains of me after that must be fed to vultures... no burning, no burial... the body must be shredded to as many pieces as withered is my soul...

I won't ever know...

... naa-aashnaa mein habeeb dhoondta maahir ek deewana...
... mili nakaami, jab dosto mein ek ajnabi ko nahi pehchaana...

... zeal to find a friend in a group of random strangers is a blessing...
... failure to distinguish a stranger within the friends is a curse...

... cursed with a blessing; or have I been blessed with a curse... I won't ever know...

... an inane futility of an attempt... trying to decipher something which is always 'n forever indecipherable...

... munasib samjho mujhe zaleel; dhadkan mujh se zyada be-adab...

... chalta main dhadkanon ki wajeh; woh chalti hai par besabab...

... undoubtedly, I am a contemptible lewd slay...
... condemn me, humiliate me, kill me I say...

... but more than me, it's the heart which is insane...
... like an insult to injury; infinitely increasing the pain...

... am a dead man walking, playing game minus a play...
... in the pitfalls of darkness, far away from the day...

... wonder why the heart yet beats, sans any reason...
... making an incorrigible live despite the treason...

Less of an irony 'n perhaps more of a poetic justice... A dead man walking is asked to dig his own grave... After all, if he can walk, he can dig too...

... marghat mein sunayi deti koi pehchaani awaaz ho jaise...
... shor machati ajnabi dhadkane hai mere murdah dil ki...

I live ironically or is it ironic, that I live...

... har zarra hue khawab pe, saansien yun amavas chilaati hai...

... tere har zikr pe dhadkanne, kyun ab bhi diwali manati hai...

... ek sikke ke ho do pehlu jaise, ranjish mehngi aur pyaar sasta...

... amavas aur diwali mein bhi toh hai, gham aur masarrat ka rishta...

... faltering whilst seeking eternal sunshine in pitfall of darkness... ironic 'en that, Diwali is always a Moonless night...



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Happy Diwali...

ahal-e-jannat mein rahe azeez
siyaah dojakh se yeh duaa di hai

deewangi kaho ya samjho ibaadat
khud ko jala shamma roshan ki hai

wishing a fabulously blessed 'n blissful diwali to all the friends 'n strangers; may ya 'n ya'r loved ones be in gorgeously sane times 'n find the eternal affection sans any affliction.

always 'n forever!

consider this as a lone prayer of a forlorn atheist.

amen!




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R.I.P. Duddashri... (*I dug ya'r grave Dumbass*)...

... oh what an irony, faithless trusts the sanctity of savior's tyranny...

... a defiant heart beats obediently, one vain heartbeat but too many...

... muqaddar ke sitam ko samajh ke muqaddas, yeh majnoon dhadkane...

... ek khandar pe pehra deti ab bhi muqarrar, jaise dastuur ho koi...



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... in quest for answer of an inane question, many a times have I ripped apart the rainbow 'n it's shades of grays... futile, I say...

... kaise zinda hoon bina zindagi, ek sawaaliyah nishaan hai...

... har sawaal ka jawaab ho, yeh tamanna bhi toh muhaal hai...




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am too cheap... dime a dozen insanity that I am...

.. of all that I lost to destiny, had to pay the cost only once for everything that carried a cost; but am paying the price every moment for something that was priceless... 


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