Saturday, February 18, 2012

Next time

Next time when you come to my way, my life
come with a torch, a candle or a light.
For its too dark, the way towards me
you might fall or tumble or might get hurt.
The path is full with holes or pits or trenches,
it might not be visible enough.

Next time when you come to my way, my life
bring with you a little joy, delight or liveliness.
For the things so slumber or quiescent here
you might feel after a while bore, aloof or lassitude.
Because I might not be so joyous, lively or bright
it might not be interesting and entertaining to you anymore.

Next time when you come or if you ever come,
then come through the passage or alley drawn by you.
Do not come forsake of me or anyone
you might not stay for a while or long again.
And I might not be able to make you rest, stay or still
so if you come, come by your pleasure, choice or rejoice.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Once upon a time

“A few years back, we used to have a thin, hollow stick of plastic in which it had another thinner stick which used to fill with ink of blue, green, black or red in color. It was called a pen which was used for all the things related to writing which is now done by keyboards and computers.”

I can imagine that we may need to give an explanation to our future generations about what a pen was and how it looked. It may also be available in their time too but may not be so commonly in use and an old fashioned thing – just a piece of colored plastic filled with different colors of inks. The technology will be so advanced that all the things would be done through computers and laptops. We will type everything but not write.

Even now we send texts, e-mails, type articles on our laptops but not write. Typing is easier and less erroneous because we can always backspace out mistakes or errors and type it correct again with just a few buttons. While when writing with a pen errors and cuttings make the write up look dirty but those mistakes are always visible to us and we do no repeat them again because we remember them.

Image Courtesy : Anjali Saini
Though technology is always a good thing to have and it is also saving a lot of time. But I personally like writing with a pen it gives me a feeling of a writer even I am not good at it.

I remember when I was in grade 4 everyone was so excited and joyous that from next grade we will also write with a pen like our seniors and elders. And I used to buy a new pen in every terminal exam because I was really fond of collecting pens even if they are empty. Pens of different types – pilot pen, fountain pen, parker pen were the most favorites and most expensive also at that time.

Slowly and steadily it is going to be a thing of past or history, an outdated thing. The children in schools are already so familiar with mobiles, iPhones, iPads, laptops and computers that all their projects need to be done electronically and in printouts and they always need Google by their sides.


I know all things of past become old and with the new generation, new technology, and new things appear but I will miss this little piece of plastic and a significant part of my childhood and education in near future.

Friday, February 3, 2012

My adventurous February

My January, it ended with a trauma
I was going home and met a mate
Outside the college gate,
She is always so famous
Because of her foolish activities,
She asked me to give a drive
As I m always so nice I agreed.
And in just two minutes I was in mud
With dry leaves on the ground,
The sand on my clothes,
and on my face and in my hairs.
Everything became so muddy               
And my precious thing was with many fractures
And my heart broke and I was crying.
But the irony was everyone asked me,
Why I m crying and I gave a thought,
No one understood it was my only friend.
My hands shivering while driving
I was just hoping no another accident to occur
As I drive to my home and reached safely,
And I slipped into my bed with my face covered.
The next day I woke up with pain in heart
As my left-side ribs were paining
And the January ended with a gifted sickness
But I hate doctors they make me more ill
And my adventurous February started with a thrill.