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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’–

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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

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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 โค๏ธ

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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’–

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The Dark Room

Humid corners

Eerie noise

Intrigued by it all

I forget my poise

I traverse

Traverse into the room

Nothing appealing

Oh! It resembles a sad tomb

Yet a connection

A familiarity touches my heart

In spite of its ugliness

I just couldn’t depart

Nothingness filled it

Void and vacuum alike

Just like this heart

Which I call ‘mine’

The silence or the noise

Whatever you may call

This queer room is a canvas

Of my equally dead soul

Run! You may run

But I call it my own

Possessed in it completely

I can happily drown

H โค๏ธ

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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,

Hโค๏ธ

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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.

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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

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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,

H๐Ÿ’”

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