Get inspired!

I watch them as plane goes over the sheets of different blue’s . I look at them from the corner of my right eye. I am not a criminal ; also, the guards carrying with them thick wooden stick for beating either  ,I am just alone ,and an explorer at least I ceased to be.

It was a fine morning when I suddenly decided to tighten my laces of branded shoes and to move out from a room that was closed from all the four sides. It was suffocating now because the window had the newspaper taped from start to end to stop the entrance of little mosquitoes that ;I slept and became the biggest intruders in my reality and world of dreams. The wall was red in colour,which sometimes was happening for having a pleasant  background for pictures when more people were in but sometimes it reminded me of blood ,pain and grief I have had experienced in my coldest night of dreams. It was now rotting,the person inside a well fabricated body was rotting because of the four walls he was caged in. I had to tighten my shoe laces even more stronger.

I left the place in afternoon carrying a side bag and a water bottle because the place I had thought of exploring were full of warm sun rays giving the idea of dryness it brought to my tongue that  was left tasteless,because I hadn’t had anything since morning. I caught the nearest metro and escaped the eyes of people who tagged me as a foreigner just because I was fair in colour and  being a non attention seeker I hated that. I knew they had been looking at my hair that was curly enough to shape my personality as one of the writer’s in town and as accidental it could be it was short too. I knew people in metro pointed at my get up that  was just a jeans and a jacket that I had bought long back when I had been in my home town. They peered through every space they could get ,also from the shoulder’s which were taking the support of a pole in the centre. They thought that I was unaware of there starring but I was aware though I didn’t mimicked them . I kept longing for my station which would be my first place to travel alone and I was excited to know the fate it would bring me.

I walked and stared at the narrow streets where till date at least one billion footsteps would have been marked by our master my being five ,let alone of my family.I stalked an old man’s wooden box covered with a very old white cloth so that the dust of the street would not enhance it’s degradation. I saw him counting something and my eye was directly on the different coins he had collected . They varied from era to era and recent . The one’s which had been expired as a result of new comers in the list. I just smiled and made my way.

I was followed by numerous rickshaw walla’s who thought of robbing me of my wallet ,only be cause they thought I was a tourist and had come to India for vacations. Had they little known about my individuality they would have buried my body into a sac and God knows what more would have I suffered ,had they known I was a Kashmiri. But ,I thank God of my voice and language that I was saved.

I went through lane by lane and entered into a monument which spoke to me. It spoke to me as I turned back to my life and I found hope. I found reasons to continue living and reasons to dream. This was a very strange thing but I could see faces of number of people who have entered in my life and exited . I had an experience of lifetime . I saw how world is filled with people of all types. I then recalled my suffocation in that four cornered room and thought of our master’s job which was to protect this balloon full of gas and I again praised him for I had a perfect life.  While entering this place I met with a peculiar incident  . As a mark of respect people from whichever place and status needed to take the shoe’s off so that the place remains cleaner then before. I did as I was ordered and suddenly a man with Kohl rinsed eyes and a Muslim scarf around his neck and a Muslim hat covering his hair and head approaches me with a smile and a Muslim way of greeting”salaam allaikum”. I said wallai kum salaam,and he asked for 300 rupees.  I was taken aback because I remembered as a kid whenever I went with my family to this place we were never asked to pay a ticket money and also people around me went free of cost. It angered me and I said with a loud voice “kyun bhaya”(why brother?).  To which he showed me a board on which the message was clear cut that only if I was a foreigner or outsider I had to pay them. I sighed and changed my language into my orginal and requested them to believe my individuality.  They happened to accuse me after showing them the skills of my changed dialect ,to lesson the pressure I showed them my I-card and hence I was relieved. The question didn’t come up for paying the sum it was of division between black and white. If I had been born with a black colour would I have been given respect as same to the respect I got while being fair?I just thought and as innocent as I was  the answer was “NO”.

Living in the city where still history rules the present one cannot help but be surprised at the various step wells one finds in the centre. These step wells mark the prison of that time for any ruler who could go beyond the actions. These step wells now were homes and shelters of various pigeons who had flight but needed a voice to shed off the  fear they had from the humans. In the evening that day I went to such  step-well “baoli” which to me was an inspiration. I could write about the well designed hand made walls and could write about the pigeons which went round and round the monument and left the audiences clapping. The sight was so mesmerising that one couldn’t help but start praising at the things he has bestowed us with. I chuckled within myself on a couple who made a romantic pose for a picture memory,had they known the sights the step-well had felt and witnessed they would have romanced in Switzerland rather in ruins which had  been a jail for many like us.

Being a Delhi wall-ah ,one needs to add up a spice in his journey to places his hand made map takes him.Because from a minaret to a bird everything inspires here and one forgets who came as a traveller and who went as an Inspired.

-Jamia Masjid ,Old Delhi.

-Ugersen ki baoli ,Hailey road cp.

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Happy Friendship day !


“and they said I have changed had they known what is it like to be alone in the city  full of lights -takbeer “

Its been a year to hear their voices ,the last time i had met them was probably in november my final paper boards . But then I had made a connection through the online stuff ,we had been in a verbal contact and no physical one which is disheartening .But I had kept myself the same , the same takbeer as people say , the joyous , the ever lasting humor (bad or good I never knew ),the ever good -hearted girl ,yes I had kept all these things in time ,not shifted to the minimum ,I had still the same old definition to explain me, but somewhere along the coastline and along the continuity even the online stuff didn’t work ,I had to met with the texts like “hmm ,kk , and okay”I wasn’t born to be treated like this I told myself one day with my eyes full of tears.And then with this brawl with my own good self nature I had to quit being nice . I had to turn the glass the other way so that the lid is full . I ignored , i accepted that too . I disconnected but I had a right (,don’t you think so I should have done so?).Then the time came and i flew , i changed the city ,they texted me saying all nice good wishes but at that time I already had “it doesnt matter attitude ” for I had changed from being good to an irascibile . That wasn’t my fault ,was it?I dont think so ,it wasnt  mine .

Times changed ,changed my number too ,but still I was the one texting them with my new information and giving updates .Maybe that was the part of me that was missing them , the times spent with them had come up alive again , and i had to fall back because they didn’t know  “what is it like to be alone in a city full of lights ” Maybe i was subtle because i had shifted with life , complete different atmosphere or maybe i was selfish , because at the point i realized i needed them i revoke them once again ,or maybe the animosity in the past was dead . Things seemed nice enough to start all over again , until I met my college mates all together from different autobiographies and distances . And at that point I realized that its not how close you feel about your relation nor its like how much do you share ,its making someone feel nice about their existence and giving them a sense of pride of individuality ,and that moment i HAD A GOODBYE to the one who never actually stood for me ,they were large in number but then who cared when their heart didn’t function at all.Its a matter of time , that you will understand what actually you are looking for , i found my time when i was already in college .

And as i see today the calendar ,which spots on 4th august , i texted them HAPPY FRIENDSHIPS  DAY and still the same cold feeling re_-voked with the statement that I have changed . Sighing aint an option ,I am much more precious than doing this .ITS not a regret ,its simple i don’t care .

Beyond the equations !


We live in a generation where kids have phablets in their hands ,where teachers use google ,wikipedia , and youtube for discussions in classrooms,where even a baby can give you countings till 10 . Its fact ,call it a 21st century magic  ,  or the technological improvement, it is happening and the world is changing around us .Reflecting upon the past era’s where sometimes it was called a literary era ,where you could have find ghazals, sonnets , rubaiyats ,and epics in air ,where rhyming topic of english had its own charm ,where people produced epics and not fairy tales ,where humankind produced Shakespeare and Ghalib ,to an era where inventions and scientific developments had its own maximum level ,where Tesla had its electricity and Edison had its part of fake role , then it was a complete shift from literary -inventions-science-“working class “.It didn’t matter to people as to what they were doing ,the thing they were worried about was cash and the amount they would receive after spending half of the life sitting in one room with files and papers all filled with petty negotiations .


Beyond these eras ,of humankind and world has seen itself ,their lays this future generation the 90’s kids ,who are into rock and roll , music , paintings ,acting , and many creative things like this , who  are indulged greatly in doctor and engineering degree and who above all believe in everyday productivity .I belonging to same group of kids neither has an art of music ,nor has the creativity of painting sculptures , but to me my biggest asset is writing and i write for myself ,i don’t care about sarcasm because I know my perceptions . And for this love of words I took english honors , beyond equations lies this bunch of course which cant only suggest you to thank God at every moment you learn a new word but to the understanding between books and you it gives the immense pleasure one finds reading equations of ,mbbs and engineering .


and i took english honors ,because beyond equations it  helped me look more closer to God .

Love to my beloved’s !


It stands erect,straight
Beauty personified
But it grows old too
Like the man with the spectacles

I’m talking about
The chinar
To which my home is sparkled
It is like the young me
In autumn it sets that example.

But it also fades away
like my parents and I would
This is the world’s story
Where everything that goes
Around comes back.

They set for the journey
To there dreams
But leaving their
Old one’s alone.

They cry inside but
Never return back,for
They want to learn more.
Family is broken

Parents are shattered,
But these children make
A loud cry amidst the stars
When they shine

They go back to their parents
Repenting about their act
I was sitting on a bench
Beside the brave chinar.

Witnessing the story of the
Separation of kids
Tears flowed and I cursed
I had too left
But today i want to tell

My icons the tale of love
Dear,you are my heroes
Not less than any superhero
I am the one who escaped

I am the one who broke
But my deeds payed
Though leaving you alone
You’re my infinite lord

Ill be back
Back with the treasure
I would let you fly
Dont grow old till then ,I would be back with your love..

(#a tribute to my parents for letting me enjoy the every miracle of life, and a tribute to say that I LOVE YOU )

Page 2

So the moment is just like the same.There are many multi -tasking going on.Some are distributing sweets,huggs and kisses are being recieved and given .Some where even deciding my future and also guessing what the baby would be called.This is the moment called my birth.My moment of birth is just as same as any child.So amidst these happenings doctor in the meanwhile has given my mother the permission of going back home,and we are all set to start afreash ,the family of four.

My sister is small but she is a grown up in her own self , emotions that even lead one to death have certainly crept her inside for she has taken up the responsibility of the three of us ,I ,mother and father. At this stage of my life where i stand today and when i sometimes ponder about the past I smile and wonder that how does God beautifully bless people with family.How fortunate are the children who get so much love from two unknown people apparently their parents.Life is an IRONICAL statement itself.

So ,our family which is still struggling to get a worth life,where we strive for a better life each day .Eyes are there for people to dream,to make castles not only in day but also in reality.Fortunate are those not born with a silver spoon for they know the hidden reality of life.I personally dont think that king and queen of the town would have been able to answer the ‘what’s’ of life,for they just know the number of hotels they own leaving behind the reality of life who owns just his own life.tumblr_m4tfc0DuQR1qfet8co1_400tumblr_m4tfc0DuQR1qfet8co1_400

Figures of speeches in life .


The silver lining of the moon, the circle of the  yellow sun ,the blue outline of oceans and the white sketch of the sky above makes me go into some frozen time of my life which to me had never been revealed nor will be but I still think of the story hidden and wonder about the plot and the writer .Yes to me it was just a frame put up on the wall with some hidden real faces to which I was unknown . I am talking about the moment when i got frozed for absolutely 10 minutes but which seemed to me like my whole life that photograph frame near the table of wood closely attached to the wall .

The sound of the water flowing from the tap in my washroom had just struck my ears when suddenly I stared at a photo frame .I was remembered about the ode in which the poet  is stuck to the sight of a graciun run and he reveales all the benefits of it to himself .How beautiful are the thoughts of poets, I told myself not lifting my eye from that photograph frame . what was it ? was it just a memoir , was it just a piece of mirror nicely decorated and put up or was it a story written by lexicographer ?I had these questions in my mind while I closed the tap in the washroom . Coming back to my room i had my eyes fixed to the frame not knowing it had hypnotized me and I was kind of suppressed by it . My soul was like that one piece of magnet that had attracted to another . I was lost in the frame totally . It was a very well decorated frame , silver beads and the beautiful crimson lace over it had added to its glory but what would have been there so deep that it made me hypnotized that it made me lost all my power ,it was like that situation where we find our soul wrestling with the words of the world and people living in it .I was perplexed and startled.In the picture of the frame there was a hot fuming sun red in color , Orange to be more appropriate .and a girl I guess of my age with my type of hair and one dress which I wear more frequently in my home .And a horse that seemed to be running and running to its desired target that was unknown .

If somebody would have asked me about the personality of the girl I would have just told him that she was a girl beyond the world , she was the girl of irony,because she was unaware of the moments that were going around her while she sat in the garden , she is like that of alliteration which keeps on repeating her thoughts to her mind and not letting them burst to someone , she is like a personification of beauty because lord had made her perfect ,her smile ,her eyes,lips ,hair and everything she possessed  was just a miracle hence beauty was personified ., She had that charm which even let the birds speak , she was all in all that one piece of which the earth was unknown . she was the perfect example of a ballad which kept on dancing on the tunes of song . But somewhere in her eyebrows there was a mystery as to who she was ? what was she doing on this earth ?There was an elegy that was hidden from the rest of the world but to her soul there was a question what made her look so beautiful .this is how I could have best described the girl .

The horse that was trying to run but in a picture it seemed to have stopped running for it had somewhat realized that patience is the best friend .That life is-int that easy  that we thing it to be and there has to be made apprehensions on it .That life is not always in an apple pie order and it got to have be on sixes and sevens . that moment i pondered about my late life and a feeling of pathos ran throughout me .

As to the questions asked by girl were true to a large extent . We humans dont know the creator of our souls .We just praise our families for they are their for us but how often do we thank the creator of our outline the bodies.And that moment i confronted to God i thanked him to taking his precious time in making me for I neither know what day would be my last and what day would be my farewell .i made a soliloquy with myself that was purely a remorseful speech given by a ordinary piece of mud to GOD .

And that moment I was woke up by the call of Nightingale and i saw myself more wiser . Though the time I had been frozen was a part of some glorious dream but i made it a point I GET to prayer at every step I took for i didn’t know which would be my last.

In my life figures of speeches has surely got to me the right path for I was longing for ! 


As there is bate for a fish there are words for human !

Amid-st the  valleys ,cities and towns

there are two eyes whispering the song ,

focused on the hole of the wall

these eyes meet a sky fall .

The dark night that come twice a week

holds the lovers together at feast ,

stars shining high above the balcony

Shakespeare uses this in his irony .

To a lay man world is stage and we the players

but to an erudite its much beyond the deep,

to which the lay man is unknown

to which the poets of fall echo.

Children in the garden play hoo la ho ,

unaware of the fairies going round and round on a toe

they surely are the miracles of his creation

who leave the common mouth opened.

The two eyes which mentioned above

meet with a conversation of two beloveds ,

of one asks as to what is that holds the people together

as to what is there beyond the tale of the Ceaser .

To which the other was dumbfounded,

promised to his beloved the answer to the question,

on a horse he set his journey to find the answer

he met many but he was still not knowing .

Then somebody told him to read the philosophy

he went through the biggest chronology,

but with the confused state of mind he returned back that night

when under a cliff he found a note in surprise .

Astonishingly he  uncovered the paper from beneath

there was nothing but one word written that was the WORD itself ,

he looked at it like the slum kid looking at rich

but put back the paper in the midst.

Then he went to the alchemist the another day

who laughed at him as if he had cracked a joke,

he then said to him that the world has a force

people call it WORDS that holds them close .

In an explicit way he said to him

for a lay man to understand the world ,

the poets of fall wrote the bridge of words

to let the lay man know the hidden story of earth .

He stood up and smiled at himself

for he now knew the answer to his beloveds question ,

for he knew the force which has made us a worth creations

for he knew the WORDS of reality of the world .

Went to his beloved the next day

looked in her eyes and then revealed,

the mystery he had solved and the answer he had got

for he was rich for he knew the WORDS .

Her beloved was overwhelmed by the efforts of her loved one

she tossed him at his head and then said ,

let the bards of Avon or London write a tale

of the lovers who knew the mystery of their sail .

And let the readers read the tale

with the zest as that of yours ,

let the eruidtes grew long beards

till they hear the tale of our known words .

The two eyes focusing on the hole in the wall

met with a stream of tear which was bound to fall,

because he was the one reading

‘the tale of our known words”.



Plants are green ,the sky is blue
Our brain is a cell ,which we all know .

Science, maths and history are out of one’s caliber
For who would remember the death of the ruler ?

Every morning the sun grows, every night the moon shines
We breathe ,give and take ,we live and let live too .

Reading books or fairy tales is the children best theory ,
Who could have ever imagined that the little boy would become ‘THE SHAKESPEARE’:

Writing 154 sonnets and so many plays
One gets bonkers listening to the dead prodigy ,

Not only he was the father of tragedy ,
But he was the owner of the romance factory .

Leaves appear the palm of the hand to many
While to Wordsworth of English nature was God’s glory .

I am not telling any lie nor any wrong explanation
its written in his poems the one called daffodils .

Be it Shakespeare or Wordsworth , they had the fountain of words in them
neither they were original ,nor ordinary they were just a piece of simple prodigy .

But i am neither the poets of fall, nor the lover of nature
Neither do i have an experience in tragedy ,nor i have a lover of romance,

Still i wrote this song as it would be called by many ,
For i got no talent but simple the craze for words .

This is my story this is my life,
I am no literate or no bibliophile ,

I am neither Shakespeare nor Wordsworth ,
I am just a life , an ordinary but still i write !