Random thoughts...

O, The Shiny Ones! I am dim, pale and a tiny one! As I look up at the sky, I see you; millions and millions of your kind! I have a thing to say to you, may be a few; Now why I have chosen you for this; an unusual choice to make? A myth that prevails among us – the earthlings, that only you - when you fall - hear the true heart’s voice. You have been there, since millenniums; helping the love-struck mortals. But Alas!  They always praise the moon - who can’t even shine on its own - and never you! Moon is for those who have love; you are for those who seek love ! So, I have come to you because I am a seeker. Before I continue my endless journey, let me do my bit; make a pathetic effort to convey my honest words what I am seeking for – a confession which is long overdue on behalf of all my fellow earthlings -  who are in love and otherwise - and their all the wishes - heard or ignored. We owe you this. I owe you this. Before I care to begin,...

God received the list from him. It was for her. It said: " A hug & A kiss A sign of madness A pair of lips An eye lash A finger to touch A hand to hold yours Both eyes to look into yours Pair of cheeks to brush against yours An ear to listen things you don't say A heart of gold worthy of you A smile to wipe off your sorrows A teardrop to heal your wounds Pair of legs to follow you One full body, one pure soul and a halo of invisible divine love encompassing it and... a small tree which would give a lifetime supply of oxygen, so that every time you breathe, you remember me. " God;He smiled and He Nodded. And his give-list for her was granted. And her prayers were answered. - Asthir [in the era of 'to-do list' and 'want list', a much needed list to make. For once, wish to give something to someone. God listens to your such wishes faster]

He woke up at night, restless. Couldn't sleep again. Yet another night. Sat upright in his single bed, he didn't switch on the light to think about what was making him restless. May be a bad dream while asleep, which choked him up from inside up to his throat that he couldn't breathe. His heart gave him a nightmare with closed eyes, and his mouth got filled with smoke like bitterness, to his stomach. And that summed up everything. He stood up, with slow and tiny steps, he switched on the light; which he was afraid of. Slightly dim, pale white light filled the room with colourless sadness. And there he was. Looking at himself in the mirror, seeing his reflection; however incomplete it was. He touched his face, with both the hands to make sure this is not the dream. He wasn't really happy about the way mirror was not hiding anything. And something was hurting him; a lot. Since many days now. He looked at his hand. And there it was; on his finger. It was ...

A perennial river flows from north-east to the southern region of the forest to the latter's bliss, perhaps since eternity. And there lies a carpet of millions of pebbles and stones at the riverbed, well beneath the current. A rolling stone -rather a pebble- as destined, slowly arrived and landed among a group of relatively bigger boulders at the bottom of the river. Pebble wasn't surprised when it saw others not at all thrilled about its arrival; almost all stayed stone faced. It tried to be acquainted with others around. No one moved, nor so much as flinched. It however tried a lot to make others talk, and make some connection. Everything was in vein. Irritated by the pebble's efforts and movements, a boulder broke the silence "Stranger ! you are not one of us. We are different - the boulders. You are just a directionless and insignificant pebble. So don't even try." Taken aback by this, the pebble grew cold for a few moments, sat still and waited....

Somewhere in the past. There was a time. That one surreal thing. There was a chaos all around. Pointless activities, deceiving distractions and absolute stale air soaked in the flavoured smoke of burnt charcoal.   Impromptu social gathering at very late hour of evening, but there was nothing social about it. The place was well lit but dark, crowded but aloof, resourceful but exhausted. So many things were in the air; but certainly not love. Not at least initially.  As the late evening turned into early hours of night, no one complained about the activities and festivities which were going on. Everything was going on perfectly as expected, chaotic and random. Not a single soul was soulful. Except those two.  It just happened to be that she was sitting next to him; or may be, just may be, he was just a marvellous planner of things. Nothing was special. Nothing was suspicious, not even the circumstances. Can't blame him for wishing what he wanted to. Hi...

The night was young. And so was she. A street - full of emptiness - welcomed here, as she turned left; deviating from her daily and routine path of reaching home. As she started walking on the passageway, only think she could think of was to reach somewhere early. She wasn't expecting anything out of ordinary, not today. As she started walking, her immediate reaction was caution. Old harmless buildings to her right and left were stationary and tall enough to make her feel rather insignificant. Something wasn't  right  that night. Not a bit. She could totally feel that for the very first time. Something was settling heavily on her, surrounding her; something totally invisible yet powerful; like all the superlative forces of the universe. She felt an immense sense of restlessness pounding inside her heart, and that alone made her nervous about her being there on the street.  The street was merely broader than three yards. At this hour of the night, t...

They looked at each other.  They looked different. He had never seen someone so pretty. And she, well, she knew it. Their clothes didn't match. His was unworthy of notice. Hers were graceful, because she was too.  Their shoes didn't match either. He wore something black and dull. She was wearing a flawless red pair. They had different eye colours. His was coffee stain brown, and hers was sparkling green. They wanted different things. He wanted his feet on the ground. She wanted to aim for the stars.  They had a million differences. They knew. They never changed. They never had to. Ever. Something somehow kept them going, something grew when the ego died, and erased all doubts and boundaries.  Those were; love, faith and pure madness. - Asthir

God creates A Man and fills his heart with love. God loves and cares a lot for HIS creation. The Man cherishes this and the presence of God around him. He secretly wishes for this to last forever, and wishes to stay here with God, in HIS safe haven. But God has different plans for him. When the time seems right, the Almighty wishes to send HIS beloved Man to Earth - as a human - among the other humanly figures. The Man refuses, as he is afraid and fragile. God assures him to be around him in disguise. The Man leaves for the earth. And one fine day, here he comes; back to God, in HIS safe haven. God is happy to see HIS beloved child, but the man looks back at HIM in disdain. God learns that HIS child has returned back with an empty heart. The Man cries to explain why. "O Almighty. Forgive me as I failed YOU. For my entire life, I kept on giving love from my heart, but I could find no one to give it back and as I ran out of it, I had to come back to YOU." God ...

Smell of fresh pages! That notebook was made with finest handmade paper. It  was delicately put together by experienced hands of adroit women. Every single page of the notebook was a result of; killing of a few fine Argali shrubs of Himalayas, hours and hours of preparation in a small handicraft workshop of an ancient monastery, and last & desperate effort of survival by a few old ladies of Borong village in Sikkim. The Man came into the shop with so much promise ! The whole shop looked at him at once; three working and gracefully aged ladies, rusted tools, wooden Buddha Idol and thirty seven unsold notebooks. He obviously was ushered inside. After a small walk through, he made the choice. Bought the best  notebook  of all, and left with swift feet after paying the craftswomen* fairly. The latter became happy as there was a fraction less poverty now in the workshop. On the contrary, books had a dilemma; were sad as they lost a  companion , but were ...

As I closed my eyes, two flying figures, one Black and one White, sat on my each shoulders.  My heart asked a mute question "what should I do?" One in White said, "you have tolerated too much now. It's enough. Deep down you know too, that this is not right. Be free, wait for none. There's no love left for you with her". And the case was rested. The other in Black said, "million reasons to leave, but one shall be enough to love. Aren't you sick and tired of each and every reason why you shouldn't be with her? Love is hard to come by. Difficult to understand, and almost impossible to divert. It won't disappear, nor evaporate. It will always stay, as a part of you. Don't let it go. This hurts, but it's worth every pain." And my heart listened to both, looked at the Black and the White. The one in White won. Heart directed me to choose the path. Then the Black and White, with leaving one of them disappointed, flew away. One the way...