Everyone Loves A Gift

Talking of favourites, it differs as does the choice perpetuating out of tributaries of human thoughts. No matter what, everyone loves a gift. Yes, but does it matter?

I recall an event from the prologue of my past. It was asking for a gift of an angular pen which gets its name and point of attraction from slightly titled nib of its on the occasion of my birthday. Eventually I received the same with same surprised expression if otherwise if it would have been unknown to me. I could see my eyes glittering with happiness on the mirror adjacent to me as I held this pen closer to my heart.

Next day, I couldn’t find the pen anywhere. Nor was in the group of gifts that I’d got nor was it in the “special box” where I used to store the most precious and beautiful commodities of mine safely!

It was visceral reminder of the fact that I may also lose things even the most delighted ones to some mysterious turn of events. Anyways, pens are so that would’ve been proven worthier if I could I shown off to my friends or I would’ve received full marks out of the test!

This story is vague in the sense of providing a moral, I accept that. But to the readers, I may put a gentle reminder of accepting what’s available right now. I would’ve cried to the verge of making my parents buy me a pack of similar pens. But that wasn’t about it.

Everyone loves a gift. Only the fortunate receive what they desired for. All that matters if you make use of the gift in whatever sense you use it for. You have the freedom to attach the “gift” of today’s story with life as well!

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Cyclewala (The Cyclist)- IV

When the whole world seemed burning down into angry ashes, he swept into the ocean of his favorite books shutting the doors and windows leading his way to the endless night. The manuscripts are pure enlightenment, he alleged if the whole world could be one, for once? 

***

The morning alarm rang. He cleared his eyes and gazed around the new sun coming up with fresh winter breeze fluttering the collar of his shirt from the left. It was a good time for mountaineering, he muttered while stepping down the ladder to reach for his bicycle. “You know what, I always wanted to take you the hills. It’d be fascinating, don’t you think?”. The bicycle didn’t responded. The cyclist giggled, and got in his cyclist aura and pushed forth the paddle. 

The mountains were a little of 15 kms away and a straight link leading was the only link leading. He claimed himself to be the most consistent cyclist ever. He only knew of the people with chubby voices that lingers on like noises in most minds. 

So, he was leaving the construction investments of the cities behind and welcoming the vibrant colours the trees were taking from the sunlight. He was gleaming there too, proceeding towards his destiny fueled by his determination. The roads were clean, people were clean and the morning had much to offer than a cleaner motive instead for people who owe themselves their plight which they tend to forget in the evenings and ponder to skip the times which they for everytime can prosper. 

Meeku, his age old friend lives down the foothills of the mountain world. He thought he could pay a visit once he returns back but subdued this idea and decided to meet him ongoing. He called through the Bluetooth headset he got from an online store in mid September and pinched his phone number. 

 Cyclist: “Hello! This is me! Where are you?” 

Meeku: ” Well Hello there! I’m at home. Where are you?” 

Cyclist: ” Just passing by. Thought I would meet you! 

Meeku: ” Why, yes, of course! Come come, I’ll make some tea for us. ” 

Cyclist: ” No! No! No! No tea. I’m on my bicycle. I’ll just meet and go! 
Meeku: ” Oh! You first come, then we’ll see!”. 


***

Meeku had an infinite sense of the Cyclist. He knew if he was coming upto him, it may have a rigid reason or no reason at all. Within a quarter of an hour, he was able to hear the doorbell.

Meeku: “Where you been chased by a hare all through the starry night?”

Cyclist:” Indeed! I’ve been followed by witches too!”

Meeku: ” Yea! That for sure! So, I must ask, what brings you here?!” 

Cyclist:” Do I need a reason, you think? Just wanted to see you and blah!” 

Meeku:” Your eyes speak truth but your mouth can’t. I sense something fishy…” 

Cyclist:” Not exactly. But yea, there’s something I want to ask you… Very important… Very secret… And you must listen carefully!” 

Meeku: ” Why yes! A secret for life buddy! Just tell me, I’ll be your locker…” 

Cyclist: ” You know me right? Tell me yes or no!” 

Meeku:” Of course I do! You know, mine-yours friends, relatives, everyone knows that we are closest of friends… Friends for life buddy!” 

Cyclist: ” That is alright! But…” 

Meeku:” But what?”

Cyclist: ” But what if I change? Change right now…?” 

Meeku: ” Like change for what? I didn’t catch you…” 

Cyclist:” Just a change buddy… Like the weather that changes from rain to Sunshine… Humid to cool… That way…” 

Meeku:” That depends….” 

Cyclist: ” On what?” 

Meeku:” Look I know you from very long time. I know you. So, I must answer without any room for confusion…” 
Cyclist:” I’m listening.” 

Meeku:” You don’t always see what’s been accomplished, I think that’s your weaker point. It’s good for some folks but for you… Nop!” 

Cyclist:” Hey! You didn’t understood.. you are just…” 

Meeku :”Don’t you interrupt while I speak and let me speak today, I want to… Believe it or not… But everyone in this miserable world is living a life. They change every moment, every second or their life.. so do you and so do me. It’s just that you overthinking things…” 
Cyclist: ” Yea but this time it’s simple an idea. What if I yell on you right now without any reason, will you make a decision if I had gone mad or something?” 

Meeku: ” Anyone will get offended with what bad one has to say to the other! But I will first search something in myself if you give me surity paper that you aren’t mad! Which you already are! Hahaha!” 

Cyclist:” Well, this brings some logic… So, you particularly saying that one has a reason to introspect in himself if the another one is in one belief not insane and in another not joking…” 

Meeku: ” Exactly!” 

Cyclist:” What if I changed my life, yelled on it and wants an introspection from its side?” 

Meeku:”First of all, do you think you and your life are two different things? It isn’t I tell you, and everyone knows it…” 

Cyclist:” Yea if everyone knows they and their life is one, why don’t they get up and chase what they dream for? Why are they living? What are they doing? What am I doing right now? ” 

Meeku: ” Why are you so worried about them?!! You take care of yourself, the world will take of itself!” 

Cyclist: ” I’m the world buddy! I’m a part of it. The world rises that’s why I rise. And so do you! You do something because the world wants you to so something in that time. You surely not into striking the stones business, are you?” 

Meeku:” I think you are in a misconception… You, you know what you are? The world… Right? You are the world… You take care of yourself, the world takes care of itself.. simple! You wait… You fail… You achieve, the world achieves… This is how things work!” 

Cyclist:” That’s bookish! I won’t prefer learning that way!” 

Meeku:” What if I say you rise, then the world rises? You open your eyes, see the world, hear what’s around, sense the time, and breath and let yourself immense in that period, so deeply, so purely everyday, every night! You see, everything’s so simple but divine. Its just life…” 

Cyclist:” It’s been offered to everybody around the world. It’s for everybody you see around… What just makes up the difference? 

Meeku: ” That’s awful an argument… What difference exactly ha?! Go home you are drunk!” 

Cyclist:” Yea, that’s much of a wrapper in the thunderstorm kind of thing. I guess, you are sensible this time!” 
Meeku: “I’m. Like always!” 

Cyclist:” I’ve got what I need. I got to leave now. The sun is glaring higher!” 

Meeku:” I can’t stop you, even the wind can’t. It helps apparently to shape you… To be you… Just go!” 




***



He paddled right through the alley of Meeku’s house to resume the journey he was into. It’s better to have a talk like this sometimes, he thought. 

To be continued…

  




Cyclewala ( The Cyclist ) – I

What’s up for me?” 

 This brings the biggest confusion in ones life. And with the onus of leading this conversation, he decided to paddle and talk throughout the corners of the city he once embraced.

It wasn’t much of a dusk when the sun seemed weighing down and all he conversed with himself was nothing. He probably found the city exploration much tempting than having a boring exchange of blames with himself. He grasped a sight of girls shimmering with emeralds on their neck, kneeling on the temples doors praying to God for everything they had, escapingly shuttering their eyes to excuse themselves for a while and expectably getting themselves showered with more love, more beauty and more happiness.  

” Go home, you! “, he grasped to himself sensing greed in the hearts of those ladies. And then he sought himself a question which made him think his sight even once. ” What’s up for me? If these Yankees have immense greed, what’s up with me? I too have greed and maybe that’s how life is. Many people would long for having a bicycle like mine’s or maybe good health. It is not bad at all! “. 

He had immense observative capability and more of it, he had the chance to interpret his observance in the course of life. Many a times he would just explore the city he thrived in, coming back home being the same man he was when he first paddled. Cycling was an exercise, not a psychological therapy, he coined. But this time he giggled as he was challenged by life to interpret her meaning. 

“Many a times we wander searching for things that don’t exist. We paddle because we want to reach somewhere. That somewhere is sometimes nowhere. But that is not a problem. The problem is when a dive into nothing, feel depressed and in the quest of accumulating nothingness, we lose everything we had. The trust is broken, the chain is broken and the lust of reaching somewhere breaks just as the bicycle goes straight into a gutter. In the course of finding a new life and openly declaring war with ourselves, we lead to dead end…”, an excessively loud horn intrupped his paddling and he banked to the favourable side of the road. 

” Phew, that was close!”, he had the glance of a large 18-tier truck chasing the bicycle’s carrier as he was riding right in the middle of road. 

The wobble in his mind was teasinlgy uncommon to him. He never much cared if he was to lose something or to hope for better, or to feel disgraced or expect from nothing he seemed to have. He was far away from his time for people of his age were on their early professions. He was but searching for something else..

To be continued…

Life Is a Bazaar

This time I won’t let an idle chance of forgetting what I’m going to write. Why? You question… I can’t wait to forget for the life is a bazaar and if I pause, jam will happen! Got it? 

This I recall from an incident from yester evening when on the road, my counterparts were flying on their wheels in the midst of a circle with four exits. It seemed like with the dying day, their hopes of getting back home was also dying. So, they were extensively pushing off their accelerators which their wheels inherited. Struggle to get to the other bank of road was exhausting. I was struck as I had to wait for others to pass in order to find a way through. I tried and failed and failed until a spokesperson came in between the jiggles in my mind. A rikshawala( trolley puller) forcing his tire on the people found a reason to help me out. “Bhaiya yeh bazaar haii, yahan aise hi chalta haii. Nhii chloge toh jam padh jayega!(O Brother, This is a bazaar, it is just supposed to be like this. If won’t move ahead, jam will occur! )”.  The reason I can predict was his generosity! 



All I gave in return was a smile. And maybe with this smile he grasped how graceful his comment was, atleast for me. I took no time to relate it with life, our dearie! 

People celebrate shopping in bazaars. No other beauty other than a beautiful women can compete with the beauty of buying new. I must confess I find a lady the most beautiful while she is engaged in buying something for herself. A little apart from the topic but this in the name of beauty! 

So damn this jam in the world. It’s oversaturated with people. It’s already done with all the accomplishments. Only improvements are what we crave for. And atleast that we must all do. No matter you are struck at anything for long. It’s exhausting you, torturing you and blaming you for all you did in the past. You try to give a no no to this. Listen to your heart. Yes, you won’t have a fortune like mine that I got something who spoke of my heart when every hope seemed dimming. You have the biggest Lantern in yourself, your heart. So, pump it for the right reason, and improve with every day that you happen to live in. If you won’t, jam will happen! 

She Came. She Saw. She Conquered.

 

She was in a tussle what to choose and what to loose. With loosened heart and frightening breath, she started walking towards the brightly lit stage. Her hair a bit curly, and lessened moisture on her lips, she glared the pavilion around her, blushed with humans all similar to her, all sheltered with a grey sky.

She skipped her hand on the microphone, binning away the lust of time and discovering the reason of being her. All her efforts have to answer now, with the the whole world leaving her not even a chunk of choice. She administered her soul and with misty voice she spoke,” Hello!”.

 

This she heard never from herself. She knew, the world welcome salutations. Now, she have to reply to herself, her modesty trembling again. ” I speak of nothing but truth, and forever shall the truth bestow the lives of everybody and now after being speech impaired for the whole of my life, I can admit… If I can have a voice, you can too! Give your voice a reason. The world listens to those who are strong enough to prove their point. Many gets a voice with destiny; give your destiny a return gift!”

 

She could hear the applause. This wasn’t for the voice she had, but the struggle and the aim she had for herself carefully crafted in her story. Her story, her little world of being the impossible and letting the world believe that wonders happen every time, this time again.

 

She, Ms. Anjana Noor, Creative Head at Gandhi Institute for Deaf and Dumb, who was speech impaired for 22 years of her life unknown to the fact that she could one day speak, ‘voiced’ her story at a gathering in New Delhi, India.

 

 

 

Being Foolish

For all people searching the meaning of life…

Who do we say is foolish?

 

I see the foolishness all around.

That’s my foolishness for bearing all the foolishness that this world have.

Now, I be the foolish; to not label myself foolish or my family members or my peers .

My belief that I rub everything above and never let the world know what really a foolish is; is foolish.

Or my posture or my behavior or my intention or only myself being just,foolish.

 

At any point of time, some sort of alien intelligence is surely due to over ride your abilities. Before a strong competitor, you surely going to lose. And at the end, nothing is going to matter.

What’s this ‘alien intelligence’, who’s this ‘strong competitor’ and what’s exactly the’ end’?

The answer no one knows the answer to, the lust that no one can ever fulfill and the future that any other distinction cannot hold, is the answer. We are hesitant to recognize, realize and prove, failing to acknowledge, but curious to know. We hold our hands together, trace our faces, and walk by our sides, but still…

 

Still we find our destinations and still we prefer going back. We label ourselves travelers, who finds his destinations and is equally determined to get back where he started, maybe to just let the world know, where he started. And where he started is where the world can start. Not just follow the footsteps but just prefer finding a little new way, a sweet other fruit to taste.

 

Label me foolish for letting you stroll where no one else does.

 

James Clear says,” Motivation is overvalued. Environment often matters more.”

I believe he’s right. Sorry for being foolish, believing in what others has to say. Or not others but somebody. Or somebody with something special.

 

Foolish is being identified. Being known.Being yourself.

The answer that I somehow, came to know.

And felt to foolish to spread…

 

The Noise in The Backyard

I have been hearing this for quite awhile.

I have been ignorant to disregard it for an opportunity to listen.

 

But it had a meaning, inside that monotonous sound waves reaching my ear, it had a regularity and a clarity.

 

Let me just provide some essentials of this noise:

  1. It was coming from my backyard. This means i had put my back on it at all times.
  2. It was kinda repetitive. I can seamlessly figure the similarity between those waves at some time intervals.
  3. As it was a noise, it was really hard to listen. It kept stinging my ear and eventually my brain and the whole body.
  4. The source of this noise was initially unknown. Even though it was in my backyard, after raiding the location, I wasn’t really able to the origin of it.
  5. It wasn’t stopping alike incessant rains in the monsoons. You can just pray but it won’t stop. It won’t stop even you have ripped off all the trees in about 100 kms radius.
  6. You would literally realise the beginning and the end of the noise just like fade effects in music.
  7. It was trying to say something…

 

I had put my brains into it.

Thought I had lost immensely.

The thought was absolutely authentic until… I listened something else.

Like, something more important.

Something that I had experienced before but in, ignorance.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” My question…. was the simplest question, lying in every soul of every man from the foolish child to the wiser elder: it was a question without an answer to which one cannot live, as I had found by experience. It was :” What will come of what I am doing today or shall do tomorrow? What will come of my whole life?” Differently expressed, the question is:”Why should I live, why wish for anything, or do anything?” It can also be expressed thus: “Is there any meaning of life that inevitable dead awaiting me does not destroy?”

 

I had listened to the similar voice from my inside this time, clearly.

 

As I had got more engrossed into the subject, and eventually, the thought process had turned much more serious and demanding.

It took me days, weeks ,months and checkpoint of a year transition to interpret the signals. I still don’t believe whats been going on for quite awhile.

 

I tried conversing with the people in my circle to what it really could mean. Maybe, they could really help me out. Maybe they had experienced it before. Maybe, in their vicinities or maybe someone else could have expressed their views concerning the similar topic.

I sounded awful and awful I am sounding right now.

 

Let me just provide you some essentials of this voice:

  1. I knew the origin of the sound.
  2. I kinda recognise the events and ideas responsible for such origin.
  3. It also reverberates sometimes like a noise that I could barely interpret.
  4. The intervals it may come is pretty unclear.
  5. I may ignite them at times but cannot believe its happening.
  6. I maybe hesitate to offer myself a respite from the noise.
  7. It was trying to say something…

 

I had put my brains into it.

Distinctively, I had lost all hopes to interpret these signals.

The traffic was so high, I could barely walk along the sidewall.

I had hints, I gathered opinions just from myself, to where do these things lead to.

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,”One kind of knowledge did not reply to life’s question, the other kind replied directly confirming my despair, indicating not that the result at which I had arrived was the fruit of error or of a diseased state of my mind, but on the contrary that I had thought correctly, and that my thoughts coincided with the conclusions of the most powerful of human minds.”

 

I had got a slightest hint of my answer. But it was pending to be really understood. For if you go for straight opinion from an another human erred mind, it was a sin to commit that the same thing is happening with me which with God’s supreme decisiveness cannot happen. I wonder…

 

Nobody knew where I had arrived. My peers didn’t had a slightest hint and didn’t slightly I cared or bothered. But somehow I wanted them to have a realisation. I know it was all going to be vain or it was just better to be obscured. Maybe I wasn’t there enough?

 

All of the process wasn’t easy to render. It had taken much of my time and my valuables. And I still can’t figure out what was it upto, what is it motive, where it is leading to, when is this going to end, what more of myself is it going to take, or simply why?

I have not been backed off by myself during this tenure. I have going through jealously, competition or all simple facts of life that exist.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” Why does everything exist that exist, and why do I exist?” “Because it exists.”

 

This was a gamble I had made. Severely out of the strategy series of projections, possibly day dreaming of sorts. It had been so much successful in the hindering the situation of my mind. But it tried giving me real implications of existence and space in life. Its seldom tactfully jackpot to ask moronic questions where everybody exclaims how wondrous the demand is.

 

It was deliberately tailored scene before my eyes at all times. Like a rhythm that comprises of ups and downs and one-ups and two-downs. There was a hurry to transit every situation. Crisply  edited and graded movie of a sort.

 

Leo Tolstoy in his book,“The Confessions”  wrote,” I understood that if I wish to understand life and its meaning, I must not live the life of  a parasite, but must live a real life, and taking the meaning given to live by real humanity and merging myself in that life – verify it.” 

 

I was stunned.

Stupefied, petrified like The Noble Laureate, John Nash told to his wife in the movie, A Beautiful Mind.