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The Pious Man

Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava always went for a morning walk at 7:30 everyday in their locality. Their walk commenced from their house crossing the street outside to the adjoining street. From that street a turn around the corner passing the local school and another turn passing the local temple. The walk ended at a park where they spent the next one hour before returning home. Ever since Mr. Srivastava had retired, this was their daily routine.

That tuesday too they were on their routine walk. While approaching the park Mr. Srivastava noticed a young lad, bare footed walking in the direction of the temple. He was dressed in a semi-formal attire, half sleeve white shirt which could be worn both for office and casual use and a black trouser with belt.

“Strange” Mr. Srivastava remarked. “What?” asked Mrs. Srivastava.

“You see that man walking towards the temple. I have seen that lad quite a few times in our previous walks, everytime he is dressed reasonably well but walks barefooted.” said Mr. Srivastava. Mrs. Srivastava just nodded in acknowledgement, “Yes, strange indeed.”

The next day again, during the walk, the young man was passing by, when Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were entering the park. Regular faces now, he gave them a smile as a sign of greeting. Mr. Srivasatava couldn’t hold back his curiosity and asked him, “ Hello, young lad. What’s your name?”

He said his name was Ramesh. A casual conversation ensued, in which Mr. Srivasatva got to know that Ramesh was new to that locality, having arrived from his village a few days back and was presently searching for a job. Mr. Srivastava asked where he was headed to and he said he was going to the temple. As the conversation continued, Mr. Srivastava asked him why he was going bare footed.

Ramesh smiled and said that he had resolved that he would start his day by going to the temple barefooted and praying for a job as well as a  good daily wage for that day. This was his “mannat”. His day went really well and he able to make ends meet due to this, he said. Mr. and Mrs. Srivastava were moved by the young man’s firm belief in God.

“Such a pious man !” Mrs. Srivastava remarked as they saw Ramesh walk away towards the temple.

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Ramesh entered the temple. He went towards the idol and prayed to God, “Oh Lord, forgive me and bless me. Please provide a good ‘branded’ product today.” He bowed and offered Rs. 2.5 in the ‘daan-peti’.

Ramesh stepped out and saw the footwear lying outside the temple. Chappals, Sandals, Shoes.. all were there. He noticed a seemingly new pair of “Nike” sneakers. They looked expensive.
“Good Brand ! Thank you Lord !” he remarked and smiled. Silently he wore those shoes in the most casual manner and left the temple. Today too he will earn his daily bread by selling the shoes and also add some money to his savings for a change…

Time ticked away…

And as time ticked away… many tales did too…
Of characters random… some lasted long.. some had snippets few…
Some endings were incomplete.. Some were complete but felt wrong…
The tales were short… But life is long…

Another high will pass.. so will.. another low..
Life moves on.. and so on one will go…

New tales…new characters…new plots too
New drama to add some spice… emotions new…
And so will be set right everything that now seems wrong..
These tales too will be short.. but they will add to a life too long…

For now rhyming wasn’t easy…

Poetry wasn’t that, what he wrote for her…
It was that, what he lived with her…

There’s was a tale – of words few.. not too long,
Just a few simple walks, silent conversations, short moments now gone…

Rhymes were his way to remember those moments now…
Random outburst of nostalgic thoughts.. written in words somehow…

He wasn’t that good with rhymes… he knew.. anyone could tell…
For now rhyming wasn’t easy.. like him.. his thoughts felt incomplete as well.

For sometimes in a simple walk… one re-lives moments many
Many old memories resurfaced.. many new memories made…
A walk by the sea could make one lose oneself to the sound of the waves..
Living like eternity.. simple moments.. that will soon fade…

IMG_3018-002

Restlessness

Mind

Buzzing with words.. Buzzing with thoughts…

Somewhere within…seeking peace..an ignored heart rots…

Pace

Increases of footsteps.. of heartbeats..of talks..

Shuttering words.. hyper breath… random aimless walks…

Head

Aching.. Paining… Spinning round…

Dizzy feeling… a constant buzzing sound…

Emotions

Anger.. Sadness.. Frustration and Fear..

Solemn face.. pleading eyes… fake laughter…effortless tear

 

Restlessness abound.. a writer struggled to have some coherence in his mind

Shivering fingers.. trembling self.. he walked on.. leaving another panic attack behind……

Song : Na Sahi — Movie : Socha Na Tha

Tum Raasta… Main Ajnabee.. Lagta tha kyun yeh har ghadi..
Aadhe adhure geet ki.. ek tum kadi.. ek main kadi….
Tumhein dekhke lagta tha ye… tum ho bane.. mere waaste…
Milna hi tha.. humko magar.. hum naa miley… toh naa sahi…

You were the road… I a wanderer… Felt like this everytime..
Like two stanzas of a broken song… Two lines that complete a rhyme…
Everytime I saw you.. I knew you were the one  for me…
Together we were meant to be.. we didn’t meet though… let it be…..

ARR–Another Random Rhyme

A story started.. with a plot new..
Marked by twists many.. written in words few…

Words unspoken.. faces forgotten..
Memories many.. some good.. some rotten

Had moments high.. had moments low…
Had moments uncategorized.. hung in the flow…

Remembrance came easy.. but forgetting was tough..
There was a smooth end to the tale.. but the memories are rough…

Some turns taken.. some missed…
Moving on.. in search of a random bliss..

How easy…

How easy it was to pluck a flower..
Regardless of the effort that went in planting it.. and letting it thrive,
For one day, it would have wilted away…anyways,
No point was left.. in letting it survive…

How easy they say is to move on..
From memories created.. and times lived by,
As if destruction is a solution.. when things go wrong,
Regardless of the creation, a relation.. that had reached it’s high…

How easy, these days, to cut the strongest ties..
As if emotions implied at one time were an illusionary trance,
Seems  preference is given more to final goodbyes,
Not letting a connection survive.. give it another chance…

Random writings…

 

All are disillusioned.. chasing their dreams…
One desires gold.. for another even copper gleams…

——————————————————————————-

Everyone cries.. for what seems the greatest pain…
One faces drought… Another laments rain…

——————————————————————————-

An oneirophobic struggled to sleep another night…
Hoping to find peace in dreams.. and not another fright !

——————————————————————————-

He tried to write a tale too long…
Lost track in between.. wrote it all wrong..

In a cafe at night, he attempted to write another tale,
His words he misspelt, his chain of thoughts would again fail…

He attempted to write.. a perfect beginning.. and a perfect end..
Neither was possible, broken segments of the tale, he had to mend…
That’s the trouble,. he faced as a writer always..
Good stories needed high drama, twisted ways…

——————————————————————————-

He tried to survive a night too cold…
Shivered to death as per the tale retold

His tale was short…with words too less…
The plot hardly mattered.. no one heard it I guess…

He was once a writer…failed at his work…
Unread his writings remained..he just had no luck…

He disappeared that night… gone away forever..
Remembered by none.. as if he existed never…

——————————————————————————-

The Box

It was just a box… though trapped he felt,

Lock there was none, still like a prison , in it he dwelt…

The Box was his mind, an maze of emotions…

Bright in parts, too dark in some portions..

 

He wanted to escape, find the exit to this maze,

Amid dark thoughts, he was just lost in this haze,

Still struggling he is, perhaps someday he will succeed,

Leaving this haze behind, towards clarity he will proceed.

 

The Box has no lock, but will have a key,

To open up and expand, from negative thoughts be free,

The seeker searches for this key, his holy grail,

He feels trapped every moment, still for freedom, his strife will not fail.

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