Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feelings, fun, funny, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, Life, love, online journal, peace, personal, quotes, self-help, social, story, style, Uncategorized, writing

The Good Life

There is a certain way to articulate your life.

The other day I got an extremely disturbing phone call from someone I care about deeply. And it shook me to see that person in extreme pain. But, if that phone call would’ve come, say, two months ago, I would’ve been of no help. Except for being a listener, which is also rare!

But, instead, to my surprise, I was this focused counsellor who gave that weeping person a sense of strength! And nothing makes me happier than making people smile. Listening to them. And in the end, making them relieve of the pain that is causing a sort of mental trauma.

Because I’ve been there. I have spent days locked into my room and weeping and questioning my life and the very reason of my existence. And it’s nothing new. I’ve talked of my various stages of depression and self-questioning several times on this platform. And I don’t think anybody should be ashamed of being an emotional wreck.

We are humans! We are supposed to feel things. And that too, deeply. Nothing makes me angrier than people who are too closed when it comes to their heart. Like why the hell would you guard your heart, instead of taking a chance? If we all lived our lives like that, there would have been no success stories at all! The more skeptical you are, the more you are blocking the good things coming to you.

So yeah, coming back to the phone call.

I’m obviously not gonna disclose the details, but what really hit me was how obsessively we stalk people on Instagram and Facebook and other non-popular social media platforms and in turn make our lives miserable. Like, have you ever posted about how miserable your life is on your Instagram story? Maybe once or twice. But that’s acceptable. But if we continue to do so, then my friend, first, you’ll lose your followers because no one got the time to listen to how shitty your life is and secondly, you will fall into this pit of negativity and struggle to come out of it if you don’t get your shit together.

So, why worry about who took a trip to Phuket or who just bought a new Chanel boy bag? Have you ever looked at your life with an Instagram filter? I’m telling you, it’s gorgeous! It’s so damn beautiful compared to what it was a year ago! You got a million blessings and a gazillion moments to cherish for lifetime. But because you’re blindsided with negativity and vying for MORE, you’re blocking the way for many more blessings to come your way!

And how do I end this post? By being thankful to the almighty for blessing me with this long lost friend of mine: gratitude.

Love,

H โค๏ธ

Advertisements
Posted in anniversary, award, banking, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feelings, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, short story, social, story, style, Uncategorized, war, writing

The Places Iโ€™ve Seen

And the mind wanders

To far off lands

Lands that should’ve been there

But lost in my ruthless plans

A perfect world

You’re by my side

Life is a cakewalk

Blessed with every desire

Our laughter so real

They make of it as a phase

But we go on together

Living a life so good; unfazed

rainy mornings

Or the bright sunny days

We move through it all

Epitome of happy rays

Oh! The places I’ve seen

Through my wandering mind

Oh! The love I’ve developed

But alas! I’ve resigned…

Your scornful looks

Your heartbreaking words

My happy place is your heart

Should I fight for it, undeterred?

Love

H ๐Ÿ’–

Posted in anniversary, award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feelings, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, Life, love, online journal, peace, personal, quotes, self-help, social, story, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Say No More

Not a poem. After ages.

What is the downside of being an introvert?

If you ask me, we, the introverts, the so called less happier ones. The so called arrogant ones. The so called crazy ones. And many more negative adjectives to describe our state of mind or rather our general psyche.

But these adjectives stop making sense after a certain period of time. We start accepting ourselves as we are after a certain period of time. What hurts the most?

Well.

It is when we are hurt by the behaviour of someone and choose to isolate ourselves and not to confront the person directly. It is when we are extremely hurt but choose to keep the feelings of the other person above ours and not make them feel guilty (if they have that kind of heart) of their behaviour by not disclosing the reason of our isolation to anybody. And then get JUDGED by all for being egoist, naive and arrogant for behaving in a socially unacceptable manner.

Yep..

It hurts the most.

Because we do not want to hurt anybody.

Even if it means to hurt ourselves more and more each day…

Love ๐Ÿ’–

H โค๏ธ

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, brotherhood, childhood, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, short story, style, Uncategorized, violence, writing

From where I stand

From where I stand

I see a rose

Dazzling in the sunlight

Engraved in poise

From where I stand

I see a perished leaf

A little life left

Magnificent in its grief

From where I stand

I see an empty pot

The mud in it calling

Leaves that have been left to rot

From where I stand

I can feel the wind

And the sunlight in full bloom

Sweeping off my untamed hair

Abundant warmth to decimate my gloom

From where I stand

I see a world

Where beliefs are engraved in hearts

From where I stand

I see a world

That does not follow the herd

Love

H ๐Ÿ’–

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, Life, love, peace, personal, self-help, social, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Life, As We Donโ€™t Know It.

Three years ago, when people used to ask me, “What is your aim in life?”, my answer used to be, “To become successful so that I can take away the problems of this world”.

Three years down the lane, the problems are still there. Increasing. And those problems have crept into my life too. I’m frustrated than ever. Happiness, I don’t know of. When was the last time I was happy? I don’t know.

I wake up and I literally cry from the inside that I don’t want to go to work. My health is deteriorating.

AMBITION. What a powerful word. People used to say, “Hasmeet is so ambitious.”. And it used to make me feel proud. But that very ambition has made my life miserable. I’m working so hard on something that is the very reason why I’m miserable.

And on top of that, I do not know how to stop. I believe in the law of attraction so much. And I know I’m outta this job sooner than I’ve imagined. Following the herd is not always wise. Government job. Sounds like a lollipop. But it’s a bitter lollipop. The worst flavour you’ll find in the market.

Ah! My problems may sound so trivial to the ones who really need a government job. They’ll call me thankless. But life is not the same for everybody. I hate my bitter self. I curse people and that is something I really didn’t do earlier. On top of that, I curse myself. I doubt myself.

There are people who have bigger problems. Yes, people are dying of hunger, terrorism, hate crimes and what not. And I’m cribbing here about a job that is paying me well.

Well, I hate my ambitious self. I desperately want happiness.

H.

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, childhood, criticism, dreams, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, style, Uncategorized, writing

Illusionary Fall

As I tread,

Softly,

Into the woods,

Hazy night,

Moonlit,

Stars shining bright.

I see a squirrel,

Prancing down the bushes.

The carefree manoeuver,

The glee in its eyes.

All seemed unnatural,

In that nature’s paradise.

I walk closer,

Curiosity deepening in my mind.

As I reach for it,

I fall into a dark pit.

At first,

It was scarier than I thought.

But as I feel deeper,

It was freedom,

That engulfed my dreary heart.

I, for once,

Wasn’t complaining.

The fall, as it may seem,

Was a much awaited liberation.

I fell deep,

Deeper than it appeared.

And reached a moist spot.

I saw my own reflection.

I saw,

Beauty all around.

What is this place?

I thought.

Confused,

I forgot of the mighty fall.

Lilies, lotuses, roses,

And what not!

I couldn’t believe,

My luck. Oh God!

And the beauty,

The peace,

That I yearned for.

I could see it in the dark pit.

I experienced it,

Because of the fall!

Love,

H โค๏ธ

Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, feminism, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, online journal, peace, personal, poetry, self-help, social, style, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Untamed

You rise,

And fall,

And still go on.

 

You care,

You cry,

And still  manage to love.

 

You are power,

You are life.

But still treated as a mice.

 

The  beauty within,

Is unimaginable.

But still,

Your silhouette is what they savor.

 

You are the creator.

And the nurturer.

But your chains,

They tell a different story.

 

You are blamed.

You are tamed.

You are a prisoner,

In the hands of your creation.

 

They cheat,

They sly,

They rip off your mind.

And still,

With every single vein,

In your body,

Burning in flames.

You rise.

Rise like a Phoenix.

With love ever-flowing.

 

Oh! My love.

How? How on Earth?

How do you manage?

To be so forgiving?

 

They burnt you alive.

Threw you on a live pyre. 

Your own blood.

It just kept quiet…

 

You were draped.

In silks and cotton.

In long flowing skirts.

Hoping to shut your soul,

To a world full of potential.

 

Break this glass of illusion.

My dear.

Break it.

Let them typecast you.

Let them keep you in a cage.

 

You spread your wings.

Your beautiful, white hued wings.

And break free.

To reach the skies.

Skies full of your dreams.

 

Be your own creation.

And not the creator, 

Of ruthless dictators.

Who betray,

Lie,

And leave you in abyss.

 

You are the creation.

Of a world,

That belongs to you.

And not the puppeteers,

That you created.

 

You are,

Untamed.

 

Love,

H

 

Posted in amrita pritam, award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, independence day, india, indians, inspiration, jinnah, Life, love, love poetry, national, nehru, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, punjab, punjabi, religion, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, violence, war, waris shah, writing

Sorry Neighbor.

I,

If I may,

Apologize.

I have been,

A devil in disguise.

 

Oh what ‘Aman ki Asha’?

What peace,

If I may ask?

My fellow countrymen,

A fallacy in which they bask..

 

I have killed love,

Harmony,

and every beautiful feeling.

I know hate,

Jealousy,

And why would I even conceal it?

 

Forget about a country,

Forget about a state.

The street that I live in,

There are many people I hate.

 

I may,

If I want to,

Wear a mask of love.

But really I’m a villain,

Benevolence, I don’t speak of!

 

And why,

Why on earth will I be ashamed?

And critical of myself?

Aren’t we all in this together?

How well we repel!

 

And teaching hatred,

To our kids.

Doesn’t sound so filthy.

“He did first, then I did”,

We find it healthy!

 

And isn’t this,

What’s going on?

From the past 70 years?

Blaming each other and all of the rest,

“Uh! The mistake is THEIRS!”. (always)

 

There are widows on both sides,

Childless parents,

And also orphans.

But who cares to budge, my dear,

We are totally okay with coffins!

 

Well,

We do shed a tear or two,

Whenever a soldier dies.

But the martyr can’t be yours,

‘Cause otherwise we will rejoice!

 

A fake motherland,

I like to worship,

With all my heart.

But only for a day or two,

Rest of the days I’m a total pervert!

 

Bring on,

The next 70 years now,

Shall we?

The nations we both so love,

Let’s turn ’em into a debris!

 

XOXO,

H

Posted in blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, brotherhood, childhood, criticism, diary, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, independence, inspiration, Life, love, peace, personal, self-help, Uncategorized, violence, writing

My Journal- Day 2

Today I came home early so I paid a visit to my nanaji. He was ecstatic to see me. And what really touched my heart was when he literally requested me to spend at least one hour with him on weekends.

 

Here I was, thinking, that nobody really needs me or feels happy around me and here I have, one of the most important persons in my life, begging me to come see him more often.

 

Life is, well, simple. Sometimes.

 

My co-workers detest me, to say the least. Every day I spend a good amount of time anticipating the reason why I am the most hated person at my workplace. And then there are some who brighten my day up and vice versa.

 

One thing struck my mind today. While ‘dealing’ with our fellow humans, we totally forget that they are humans! That they have complicated lives like us. That they go back to their deep, dark secrets and feel guilty. That they’ve been used. That they’ve been lied to. That they’ve been mistreated. That they’ve things they can’t really tell anybody.

And yet, we somehow, very easily indeed, blurt out harsh and mean words. And forget about being guilty about it afterwards.

 

Imagine a world, with clean air. Clean air. With no hate. No lies. A world that is painted in soft hues of pink and blue. With a tinge of greens and whites. Pastels all around. Happy people. Smiling at strangers. Youth helping the old. Clean air. Clean atmosphere.

 

Well, the chances are really bleak. But fantasies never hurt. Humans never hurt if treated properly.

 

What have we all become?

 

XOXO,

H

The Distant Freedom

I met a boy,

Distressed beyond words,

Crying relentlessly,

His appearance was shabby.

It was my curiosity,

That led me to him.

“Why are you crying?

O! Little child?”

At first he was a bit startled.

Looked at me straight in the eyes.

Then a weak voice came out,

“Nothing… It’s nothing.”

Now that I observed him,

Closely.

I couldn’t let him cry,

No.

So, I gained a bit of courage,

To ask this weeping, innocent child,

The cause of his distress.

This time,ย 

He was less wary of me.

Somehow, we both connected.

A feeble voice struggled to say,

“Baba is beating maa..”

And there I was,

Standing,

My hand on his shoulders,

I was speechless.

I was grappling with words.

What do I say?

How do I console?

How do I tell this little soul,

What his father is doing,

Is awry, beyond words..?

This guy lives a mile away,

From my neighborhood.

Fell in love,

With a damsel,

A heart that loved all.

People all around,

Frowned.

Love before marriage?

O! They were all embarrassed!!

Alas! Their love story,

Was short-lived.

Just like many,

We witness daily.

My friend had a dream,

To paint this world red,

The color of love.

She held her brush,

Dipped it in crimson pigment.

As soon as she took the brush out,

Her father held her hand,

Threw the brush away,

And placed a book there, instead.

She now lives a life,

In strife.

Disputes, her existence.

What was so wrong with the brush,

Anyways?

There’s a girl I see,

On the traffic signal, everyday.

Greets me with a huge smile,

And extends me a flower each time.

Wears a torn frock,

Always barefoot,

Hair gone blonde in the sun,

Skin, dry and broken…

I buy a rose from her,

For ten bucks,

Thinking,

I have bought a piece of bread for her.

And then we part ways,

Only to meet the next day.

I see, and I remain quiet.

I choose.

I choose to remain quiet.

Because I have the FREEDOM.

Yes. The FREEDOM.

Domestic violence.

Well, I should remain in silence.

Two hearts,

Forced to be apart.

Sounds too amusing,

For a gossip to kickstart!

Dreams of youth,

Kept under wraps.

This word ‘freedom’ that they taught us,

Well, it was just a trap!

Children asking for money,

On the streets.

O! Poor thing.

I may as well give.

But taxes?

Eh! How can I give it a miss?

Freedom has come down to,

Being a relative word.

For some,

It is a right.

To some,

It doesn’t come,

Even after a fair fight.

Only those celebrate it,

Who overlook its true meaning.

For the real thing is,

Freedom has never been ours…

 

P.S.- Be it Bhagat Singh, Chandrashekhar Azad or Jawaharlal Nehru; we Indians have always loved our country. Since past 70 years, we are celebrating what has gone by and keeping our eyes shut to what is happening. Winning our country back from the Britishers was not freedom. Doing anything that doesn’t harm anybody is freedom. And I’m sorry to say, that freedom has not arrived yet. So, why not work towards it? Why not work to make our beloved country an ideal country? Let’s leave all the apprehensions behind. Let’s unite in uniting this country towards the cause of love; love that has shaken the very being of the strongest of hatred prevailing in this world. For, we live only once and let’s unite to make this one life worth living ๐Ÿ™‚

 

Happy independence day, my fellow Indians ๐Ÿ™‚

 

XOXO,

H