Illuminating the darkness

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.

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.

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.

Wait is still long ... !!

It’s been dark for too long,

The love, the life all went wrong.

For the time being let me be strong,

The wait is still long.

If not the sunshine may be just dawn,

The path is yet to be drawn.

Solitude is still my song,

The wait is still long.

I just saw a little hope,

Let me see if there is any scope.

I thought it will work this time,

But, the wait is still long.

I am losing faith in me,

And I am fed up of this dilemma.

The destiny proving me a loser,

It wants me to be a cruiser.

I have been waiting for years,

Rain follows as fell, my tears.

The queer feeling of fears,

May transform into cheers.

But, the wait is still long,

It still goes on.

Sparrows - the missing neighbours

Gone are the days when you listen to the chirping and tweeting sound of the little birds on early mornings and evenings in your garden and balconies. But now you only listen to the honking of cars and motorbikes or the sound of air conditioners and coolers. I remember the days when I used to see sparrows playing and jumping from one stem to another, lying in the mud to cool their bodies on hot summer days, hiding in a searched shelter or on a tree in heavy rains. Most of my time in vacations, I pass seeing the parrots and sparrows flying and sitting on terraces and balconies. Their freedom to go anywhere anytime made me jealous and I also wanted to fly like a bird in the high sky.

Image Courtesy: Tootlepedal's Blog

Remember, some 9-10 years back when you  used to go on a morning walk few little birds giving you company and singing beautiful songs for you which made the atmosphere more beautiful and musical. But now they all are silent because only a few are left in metropolitans like Delhi and so many of them have lost their friends. I remember in monsoon many of them sat in my balcony fluttering their wings to shed down the rain water, it seems like they were feeling cold.

They used to make their nest on my balcony and on trees opposite my house, lay eggs and watch it the whole day flying from here to there, sitting on the wall to wire to grill and keep a watch on their nest. Sometimes fast winds broke their nest and eggs, they look at broken eggs for some time she felt bad and make sounds chi-chi-chi like they were crying.

Goraiya, the little sweeties in countless poetries, lyrics, songs and folk songs and paintings, is today facing a crisis for survival. It’s been long that we miss the “chi-chi-chi-chi” of Goraiyas or little sparrows every morning and lovely sight of them dancing around.

When they were abundant around us at times, we got irritated of the chirping sound “chi-chi-chi-chi” of Goraiyas outside our houses or in verandahs and gardens. But now most of us miss it actually. Universally familiar in appearance, once in abundance the common house sparrow has become a mystery bird and is becoming increasingly rare all over the world. If proper measures are not taken on time, then we might lose it totally or it might be added to the list of many extinct birds and animals.

Image Courtesy: The Hindu

The tiny sparrow is perhaps the earliest bird we can remember from our childhood which is diminishing now. Their petite nests in almost every house in colonies as well as in public places like railway stations and bus stands. They survived on food grains, tiny worms, and leftovers from houses which people give to feed them.

Unfortunately, this tiny neighbor is disappearing now. The reasons behind this are many and we the human community is somehow responsible for it. The combustion from petrol vehicles which produces compounds which are highly toxic for small insects, which are a major part of young sparrow’s diet. The lack of nesting sites in modern buildings, radiating waves from mobile towers and increasing pollution are some of the causes for their decrease in population.

Today I miss the chirrups, swinging and hopping from branch to branch on trees and balcony to balcony in colonies of little birdies and remember a story I read when I was in Grade 1 or 2 in which a sparrow feed her children and teach them how to fly. The modernization and advancement in our society have taken away almost the whole natural beauty and environment and everything is artificial or man-made in big cities. 
                                                        

De Facto

Breathing the air in Mumbai (India) for just one day, is equivalent to smoking 2.5 packs of cigarettes.

Crazy Language English

Some facts about crazy words of crazy language English:


Eggplant does not have eggs on it,

Ladyfingers does not contain fingers or ladies,

There is no pine or apple in pineapple,

There is neither pea nor a nut in peanuts,

There is no butter in buttermilk,

There is no dog in hot dog,

Hamburgers are not made from ham,

English muffins were not invented in England,

And French fries were not invented in France,

Sandwich does not have sand in it,

Boxing rings can be square,

Tomboys are girls,
Blackboards can be green and blue,

Glasses can be made of plastic,

And tablecloth can be of paper,

Homework can be done in school,

Nose can run and feet can smell,

Weather can be hot as hell one day,

And cold as hell the other day.

If pro and con are opposite does that mean congress is opposite of progress.

Somehow Indian Congress is proving it right but it is not according to English.

If vegetarians eat vegetables,

Does humanitarian eats humans?

If six, seven, eight, and nine change to sixty, seventy, eighty, and ninety,

Then why not two, three, four, and five become twoty, threety, fourty, and fivety?

*~*~*~*

English is a strange and insane language ...

Credits: Internet and of course me