The Dimension Of The Being

I saw it in your eyes. When you closed them, they spoke to me a thousand times before surrendering to the darkness. There was absolution in your eyes. I saw them many a times staring at the leaves of the tree. As if your freedom lies with the every moment a leaf turns yellow and falls into the hush of silent death.

The thunderous applause of the calm waters Startled the spirits and they rose happy In silence the lovers stood Staring at the misty water The fluid water falls on the hard rock A miracle and a boom deafening the senses No chirping no light breeze sways here The time stops by As the river falls but then flows on Life is hard but to proceed with elegance Is one thing our river-soul whispers us. Dhuadhar Jal Prapat read the chapter in class 3 Hindi text book. My wanderer soul skipped a beat. Little Niagara falls in India? When I decided on Bhedaghat it was obvious that I will touch down the falls. It is 2 km from Bhedaghat gorge.  From Amarkantak, Narmada plunges in Dhuadhar to head westward towards Bhedaghat. The auto charged INR 700 as a combo for both the places. The place is about 26 km of Jabalpur. You can avail train to reach Jabalpur Railway Station. The place is well-connected from all the major cities and towns of the country. ht

And as Kareena Kapoor kept on dancing on the tunes of "Raat ka nasha" my eyes were fixated at the backdrop. White marble rocks, the marble on our floor on mountains. Is it for real? That was 2001 and Google was not a staple. So, I did some of the research. I saw the opening credits and Voila! it was Bhedaghat Jabalpur . The encyclopedia in my school told me. So, it was in India and in my very own Madhya Pradesh (I lived in Gwalior).

" बहुत दिन हो गये थे मैं उस शहर मै पओ रखे तोह सोचा कि एकबार घुम आये. पता नही लेकिन इतने सालो में कुछ कम हुई ज़रुर मोहब्ब्त हमरी लेकिन ईश्क तो आख़िर ईतना समझदर कहा थोड़ा लपर्वाह हैं. इस शहर में कुछ तो बात थी की हमारे प्यार को परवान चडा दिया. उनसे मिलने कि कही गुंज़ाइश नहीं थी लेकिन हसरत और आशंका दोनों ही थी. पाव जैसे दौर रहे थे लेकिन आंखे देखने कि हीम्मत नहीं करती."

"If I do not have a kid, then I will get anyone." These were my thoughts when I tugged to the little fountain of the girl of our family friends. All of my best friends had a brother or sister and my BFF had a little and cute sister. I felt alone, every Rakshabandhan, I would tie a "Rakhi" around my wrist and roam around. I was a single child for the first six years of my life. It means no sharing, but somehow I never liked it. I wanted someone to share the joy and happiness. Someone, other than dolls and trees to talk. I wanted to teach, take care of a person other than these inanimate dolls. At the same time my best friend unwittingly planted the idea that sisters are better than brothers as they never tease. I rushed to my mother and said I want a sister. My mother explained it is better to have a brother (she wanted variety in kids, and now I too want the same if and when I become a Mother). The day came in, I got the news that there will be a little o

Why the world is shackled in beauty norms? Vulture and Eagle both soar the skies Then why is one ugly and another elegance defined? The lane was dark and she could not find her way back home. No, she was not going back home. That was not home but an empty alliance of four walls and a roof. It was a conspiracy to bind her to a place where she, never belonged. She prayed that she losses her way tonight and goes somewhere else. She wanted to run away someday. the city throttled her breath and clipped her wings. The stares and jeering would never die down. She was claustrophobic and would stare longingly into the starry skies. It was as if the stars formed a web and even the open space of the entire universe could not free her.

How often I wonder, I write stories and poetry but what value does it have for people who take the pain of reading me? What is the value addition? I agree it is my comfort zone but its time to put my foot and try other shoes. Fiction is often cloaked in layers (my fiction is superbly cloaked). It was my tool as an introvert. I used to express with fiction which were little codes to my heart. However, the days of cloaking are gone long back. Someone, recently told me that I am very open as a person. I took it as a compliment, a cool compliment at that and when I thought later in the night, yes, I did open up. As a person who studied psychology and has been very empathetic from the very beginning, it is natural that I can dissect people's mind better than many. We live in a place, in a society where introverts are considered weird , dumb or if someone is kind enough then different. It may lead to major cases of bully and erosion of self confidence in a young person (teenage

When I breathed my last and my first There was a pause and I took time to burn and unburn Between the two ends does life dwindle and sway Like a pendulum I travel between the dark and light While living in the grey- a life half truth and half disguise. Cloaks and shrouds cover but still innocence lies naked. My soul lies bare but still guarded by the mist of facets. The essence of body transpires and rises up to delude. The soul peeks and moans while still tied.

Oh its raining back home, The raindrops seeping in and merging, Drenching the land and its soul. Yes my home has a soul, and you will love her.

When was the last time you looked into the mirror? Stared it straight in the eyes and did not blink? The blink of shame and self pittance. The blink of a hurting conscious. The blink of a thought, a strain you need to burn aside.

  The quote from my yet to be finished novel comes at a transition point. There are times when it is better to let things and people go. Once you set them free and move out there is a realization that you were missing yourself among all the hustle and noise. When you are alone, there is a certain silence and you can  hear yourself when the emotions of others do not crowd you.

"What though the field be lost? All is not lost, The unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield."                                           -John Milton, Paradise Lost.

These lines have inspired me and let me go when the odds were at the highest. They were on the desk of Pt. Jawaharlal Nehru. These lines first came into my notice when I was a student of literature. "Stopping by the woods on a snowy evening". The lines define the temptation and desires that may distract you. Dark and deep are the temptations that engulf a person. Dark here defines mystery and aren't all mysterious things lovely? Shallow temptations can never shake a person of virtue but what if these dark and unseen temptations are deep ? Temptations look lovely at times but they lead us to the dark and unfathomably deep abyss. We tend to lose our aim in life. There comes a time in life when we are drawn to these temptations, its human nature and we may go a bit there or stand to serenade it. But then there are promises and commitments that we have done to ourselves and others who mean to us. The last line is one that takes my heart away and resonates.

Sam woke up dead one morning from her sleep. Her mother was first to notice this. It was the oddest of situations. She was cold, stone cold. The doctors were called and they could not detect a pulse. It was the strangest, she was not breathing, even when she tried. Doctors cut her but she was not bleeding. She was pale and lost all color. It was not common, evidently she was the only one who was living while she was dead. Her soul refused to leave while her body gave up. Her body, the illusion ceased to exist but this time the soul fell in love with her robe and will not leave her.

I have not slept for days now, Yes and you know the reason, I was waiting for you, for you to return, Forgetting that it was I who is far. Some love stories never end... Because they never begin And if they begin... They never stop....

So, Its another city for me.A new place to wonder about and live with the forced spinsterhood that I got for myself. It's a hot month and everything around here is quite lethargic. I am sitting here, under the shade of the tree. There are ideas that come into my mind, flashes of scenes from life come and pass by. I have my life and the life of others to dissect and serve in the platter of wrirting. That is what I do while you are pouring your heart out, I am seeking inspiration; merging my life with your lives and at times creating an alternative version of reality for you. My sense of reality might be distorted and I might not be living at all in this dimension. It is probable that what this world sees is an impression that I have kept, to fool others. the problem is I am too attached to it and now fooling myself. I may sound narcissistic, but somewhere I am so much in love with myself that it might not be a false accusation.

When you look for the best way out, something will come and disrupt your path. It will change your life and availability. Stand over the precipice and close your eyes. You will feel as you are falling but at the same moment rising from all above. It's freeing the way you let yourself go. It is the time you know for sure that the destiny will not work on you.

"So, what is your name now?" asks my acquaintance from my college times. "You saw it on facebook, right? it is Datta Ghosh." I say it over chat "Lucky you got in a boy in your caste, same surname." she said (mind it she is also a woman)

There are some doors that are enticing, as if almost inviting. They call you to serenade them with all the love you have. They are possessive little creatures, won't let you go. You meddle with their locks and hinges, suppose that they are at your will but, is it so? While you touch them, play with them, shut them, open them, you leave in them your bits and parts. Years elapse and time passes on but your part remains stuck in them, Your laughter, your sadness, your sighs and passions all trapped in their joints. Tiny airways that form with time do not let them escape.They separate from you and attach themselves to the door.

When Mira entered the room she could see a faint light coming from the corner of the room. It was a sickly lamp  that was flickering in a corner. She found her way in the half darkness that now ensued the room. Slumped in the bed she covered her face with her hands.She was tired to the bones and needed sleep but it some how evaded her.

It had rained all morning and noon. the afternoon was drenched in the trickles that fell from the heaven like the little follies of girls who had dropped a thin vase of water. The month was of winter and the incessant rains made it sure that the weather was damp and morose. Being a weekend the streets were abandoned a little too soon. It was an evening with the gloom of mid night. The big city streets were alone for a change and were basking in their solitude. Numerous alleys and countless lanes passed by and crisscrossed in utter pandemonium. Roads shrunk to streets and they to lanes and they merged in alleys so thin that only you could pass with no one by your side. these alleys showed the true nature of the city indeed. There were dark corners and dead ends that seldom saw a glimpse of light.

As the sun started its downward journey in the western horizon, he sat there staring at it with plaintive eyes. These eyes had seen many things in its twenty two years of life. With a certain calm and conviction that is a hallmark of age, this youth was one old soul. As he kept on sitting staring at the sun, he heard a distant voice.