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 ❤️

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 I’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 💖

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 💖

H ❤️

Posted in award, blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, criticism, dreams, feelings, hate, hatred, humanity, inspiration, journal, Life, love, love poetry, peace, personal, poetry, quotes, self-help, short story, social, story, style, writing

You Were Perfect

The innocence of a child

Passion beyond wild

You were perfect

You were mine

A year passed

Then two

The fire within us fresh

You were perfect

You were mine

My belief in you

Was like a rock

As strong as our love

Then one day

You weren’t so perfect….

You weren’t mine anymore

You weren’t the truth I knew

You were someone beyond my dreams

You weren’t so perfect my dear

My heart shattered

Not because of your indifference

But because you were not the truth

Not the belief I had

You weren’t so perfect my dear

Oh! How I wish

I could open my heart to you

To show you how I look at you

As pure as a child

But, you weren’t so perfect my dear

Your lies hurt not because you lied

But because you need not to

Your every thought good or bad

I can take it as it is

You were so perfect my dear

You were my pride

My heartbeat that kept me going

I hope you to see you one day

As when I started to know you

You were so perfect my dear

So perfect.

Love,

H ❤️

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

The Love of My Life

Engulfed in it.

Like a child,

Trapped in a building,

On fire.

Helpless,

Crying.

And then comes a point,

When the cries,

Fail to come out.

Slowly,

Gradually,

The breath rescinds.

And ultimately,

The child dies.

The remains,

That they cry over,

For hours,

Days,

And months.

Those remains,

Know nothing,

But of the liberation,

Of being breathless.

Being dead.

Death.

Oh dear, death!

I yearn for you.

I am waiting.

You take those,

Who hate you.

But the ones,

Who are ready to embrace,

Your tranquility,

You ignore them.

Why dear?

Why this injustice?

Why not give my soul,

The peace,

The vacuum,

The seclusion,

It is waiting for?

My remains,

Will lie,

In a bed full of flowers.

My soul,

For once,

Will be happy!

My mind,

Will be free of thoughts.

Thoughts, that killed me.

That took me away,

From everybody.

Take me.

Take me away.

Where you live.

A secluded place.

Where nobody expects,

Nobody betrays.

Dear death,

Give me this gift.

And I’ll shall forever,

Be your slave.

Love,

H❤️

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 Don’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 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 blog, blogger, bloggers, blogging, blogging 101, blogs, border, borders, brotherhood, childhood, communal, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, interviews, Life, love, love poetry, Partition, peace, personal, poetry, religion, self-help, social, story, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

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 ❤️

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, border, borders, brotherhood, communal, criticism, dreams, hate, hatred, humanity, india, indians, inspiration, jinnah, Life, love, national, Pakistan, pakistani, Partition, peace, personal, social, terrorism, Uncategorized, violence, war, writing

Pakistan Kills 2, India Kills 2…

I was going about with my morning routine; tea, breakfast and reading newspaper. Then I came across this picture which moved me to tears….

An innocent kid weeping incessantly over the mutiliated body of his father. The question isn’t here who did it. The question here is why? And for how long????!!! 
Pakistan kills 2, India kills 2. 
Children from both sides become orphans. Women from both sides become widows. Hostility grows. And for what? Only to satiate the egos of a few politicians? What personal enmity you and I have with Pakistan? Or what personal enmity does a kid or even an adult in Pakistan has with us? Nothing! 
But this killing is unstoppable. Blood is shed over and over again. We discuss this over and over again. But who listens? 
Hate has made us hopeless maniacs. We follow the herd and join the ‘I Hate Pakistan’ club. Without even knowing why it came into being. Without even knowing our follies. 
But how does that matter to this little kid now? He has lost his father forever. A father, for god’s sake! I can’t imagine in my dreams living without my father. I commit mistakes. I prance around proudly. Why? Because I know my father is there to protect me always. 
But this kid’s father was there to protect to us all. And he died. Mercilessly. 
We weep when an Indian soldier dies. But rejoice when a Pakistani soldiers dies. Why? Wasn’t he a father? Or a son? Didn’t he have any family that will mourn just like this little kid?  
How can we be so negligent towards the emotions of their families? Why can’t we all come together and stand firm on the face of the governments of both the countries that we don’t want violence. If you guys have a problem, then just stop talking. Why kill innocent people from both sides??? 
My heart pains… 
Love and respect,

H💔