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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 ❤️

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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

 

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Sorry That I Failed You

Even the tears,

The ever flowing tears,

Have dried on my face,

Leaving indelible marks.

 

The pain in my heart,

Which evoked once,

Has gotten into my conscience,

I cry, I cry.

 

Oh! My Rohingya brothers,

My beautiful sisters,

And our innocent children,

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

They left you floating,

In lakes and rivers,

Lifeless,

I could see you all helpless,

But all I could do was nothing..

 

Your feet bled,

Whilst you crossed the barbed wires,

Their gunshots piercing through your body,

Your cries, oh! your helpless cries.

I am deeply sorry, I failed you…

 

For days,

Your belly was without food,

Families lost,

Some completely washed,

In the Bay of Bengal.

I am sorry that I failed you.

 

Dear son, how we rejoiced,

The first day of your school,

Never a thought crossed our mind,

That it will be your death pool!

 

He stabbed you once,

He stabbed you twice,

I failed you little munchkin,

I silenced your beautiful voice.

 

They shot an ideology,

They shot her voice.

Dear Gauri Lankesh,

But why are you still alive?

 

Their only aim was,

To bury your alighted mind,

But little did they know,

They’ve alighted millions of lives.

 

Who are they?

Cut from the same cloth, right?

Members of the same family.

But lagging in foresight?

 

This world has enough pain,

Enough souls who are suffering.

Please stop adding to that number.

Please, enough with the plundering..

 

And all I can ask,

Is for your forgiveness.

It is my utterly shameless silence,

That has created a world so VICIOUS.

 

Asking for forgiveness,

H ❤️

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Agony Of A Chopped Tree

I was planted,

Then I was watered.

I was taken care of,

With undying love.

 

The world was a sanctuary,

Full of nothing but merry,

Where I could rejoice,

And have my own voice.

 

Then I started to spring,

And heard a bell ring.

They are on their way!

But I can’t even run away!

 

“Who would come for my help?”

I couldn’t resist but yell.

The thumping of their feet,

Echoing a drumbeat.

 

Chop! Chop!

The first of my branches dropped..

Ruthless maneuvering I could see,

Nobody to help a feeble tree.

 

This went on,

For long.

I was in utter pain,

Alas! It was their reign.

 

I was told to serve others,

And in the process self-smother.

Their faces had grins,

While I was dying from within..

 

Who do I tell that I want to grow?

And not to become an art of Michelangelo.

Their craftsmanship would cut me into dices.

And they would all call me priceless!

 

My agony was their ecstasy,

And it was my only legacy.

To serve, I was nurtured,

In the end, brutally murdered..

 

XOXO,

H ❤️

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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

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My Journal- Day 1

Life is what you make it. And we make it step by step, day by day.

 

Today was also a stepping stone towards something great. Yes, I’m a believer. I like to believe that something great is waiting for me. And if I don’t work for it today, I might miss on the opportunity.

 

My banker life is sort of an assignment. It is not what work I do. It is how I do it. And I choose to do it with integrity. Work is worship. That is going on in my mind right now. I’m serving the public. It is their money that we have deposited in our bank. And they have an absolute right to ask a hell lot questions. There shouldn’t be any chance for me to feel irritated. Instead, I should be more convincing.

 

And the battle to be convincing is eternal.

 

And then, there is team work. It is not what I expect it to be. Some of my co-workers inspire me, while some teach me valuable lessons.

 

But there is this voice that keeps telling me that I am an employee of the bank and I have the power to bring the CHANGE that I want!

 

Peace.

 

XOXO,

H

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The Mistake We All Make.

I’ve been apprehending the past couple of events and I can’t help but blame myself for everything that is wrong right now. I think it’s high time that you, too, should blame yourself for it.

 

‘The Mistake’ is our sympathy for the poor.

 

I want to put it straight. Stop showing sympathy for the poor. I may sound like a shrewd woman, but I’ve got my reasons.

 

Let’s go back to the days when we were young. Some of us didn’t have a scooter, or even a bicycle. But today, each one of us owns a car. Big or small doesn’t matter. The point is, we all have worked hard, our parents have worked hard to give the luxuries that we have right now.

 

In my case, my father is a self-made man. He came from a remote village in Punjab and went on to become a prestigious banker that he is. He has earned respect and wealth in equal proportions. His father, my grandfather, also started from a scratch. He joined the army and went on to raise four wonderful kids who made him proud in the entire village.

 

Same goes for my mother. She has also worked hard her whole life in a job that she despises, but still works to give us a better life. Her father, my maternal grandfather, was the first one to move out of the village and went on to become a reputed government official. People still talk about his courage, wit and humanitarian deeds to date.

 

My point of shedding a light in my personal life is to enlighten us all that if these people have broken the norms prevailing in their societies and come out of a poverty-like life, then why can’t every poor in India do that?

 

I know my parents and grandparents aren’t the only ones to have written a successful saga of rags to riches. I know that in each lower middle-class, upper-middle class and the rich family, there is embedded a story that will inspire us all.

 

I once read about a statement given by former UN Secretary-General Kofi Annan about giving something for free to the poor. He said,”One should not create a situation where people do not value it”. He was talking about the food subsidies in India.

 

A bitter incident took place in our family last month. My cousin sister was about to get married in a month. So, obviously, everybody was making arrangements for cash because there was a huge dearth of it due to demonetization. One of our maids who had worked in our home for like almost two years took away 24,000 rupees from the cupboard. We were unable to take any action because marriage was round the corner. After the wedding, my brother took her to the police and said to her that these are the same people who used to teach your kids, provide for their education and gave a lot of free stuff to you and this is what you did! Her simple reply was, “So what?!!”. I was astonished.

 

This is what proves the very point Kofi Annan made during his comments on the food subsidies. If we give everything that we, otherwise, pay for, for free to the poor, they just won’t value it. They will create a kind of feeling that they are entitled to get certain things for free. And hence, we kill the very urge for them to work hard to create a better future for themselves. We always make a hue and cry over the number of poor people that are present in this country.We always blame the government over not showing enough care for the poor. But, think for once, that if our parents or grandparents would’ve gotten the same facilities for free, would they have worked hard for it?

 

Feed the poor. Feed the hungry. That is the kind of help that they need. But anything beyond that, will turn disastrous.

 

I know there are people who really need our help. Like the orphans, or the differently-abled, or the aged. But showing sympathy to the poor and simply giving them money so that their present becomes better is just not okay! Let them work hard for it! This is the very reason that begging is a CRIME in India. Do not promote this kind of behavior.

 

Instead, create opportunities. Opportunities that can turn their lives around. Enlighten them. Create a fire in their hearts to really work for everything that they need.

 

This is the only way we can stop making ‘The Mistake’.

 

XOXO,

H

 

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A Jaded Bird

Dusted feathers,

But a burning heart.

Life is yearning,

For a restart. 


They Dictate,

And I hear.

Oh! How I wish,

To burst in tears.


It ain’t a debacle,

That’s for sure.

Then why do I feel,

My spirit’s tore


Had my eureka moment,

Embraced it warmly.  

Sitting in a cubicle,

Waiting calmly. 


Doing my bit, 

But the door is nowhere. 

That will fulfill,

My longstanding prayer. 


One day, 

I will brush my feathers. 

Reach for heavens,

And live in a mellow weather. 


Xoxo, 

H ❤ 

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Halfway Through, But Nowhere..

A thrush,

After complete hibernation.

Halfway through,

But not going nowhere.

 

The promises,

the hopes and the dreams.

Faded away,

In the stream,

Of thoughts,

That caught,

My attention.

Thereby,

Making me lose,

My own little world.

 

Speed as fast,

As that of a light.

My thoughts,

Took over my life.

 

Futile,

Is how I’ll describe.

My actions,

Made my life.

 

And, I knew,

The formula of losing,

By heart.

We, the ones fighting,

Gave birth to this art.

 

How? Procrastination.

And a severe dearth of,

A strong will,

And determination.

 

Halfway through this year,

And no way near,

To a world,

I vied for.

I have alas!

Lost my own war..

 

XOXO,

H

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Against The Tide!

They gleamed,

And laughed.

Thought I was defeated.

And celebrated my debacle,

Resembling the brute Germans,

Of WWII..

 

I kept quiet,

Sunk in my thoughts;

“Am I a weakling?”,

“Should I bear injustice?”.

 

How can I forget,

That I revere Madiba,

Who was an icon of perseverance!

 

How can I forget,

He was a lone warrior.

Led the way to freedom,

By his ignited heart.

 

How can I forget,

He fought for 27 long years.

A silent war..

And in the end,

Defeated the evil legacy,

In their own game!

 

Can I not replicate,

The victory of truth over lie?

Can I not make them,

Vie for good times?

 

I will be responsible,

For all the (mental) deaths, 

by these brutes…

And I have to fight,

At my own risk.

I fear none.

Because what they hold,

Doesn’t scare me anymore!

 

They make us weak.

Threaten us.

But we bear it all.

All because we are scared.

But this fear arises out of ignorance.

Ignorance that,

No human can be told,

How to breathe.

So breathe,

And show them,

That their evil ideology,

Will not prevail.

And that,

Truth always wins!

 

XOXO,

H ❤