Am a little off my self imposed schedule as far as posting is concerned; meaning, I never planned to write everyday, but doing so anyway!
Anyway, here is something I could not resist posting. Many people must have heard it already, but I wanted to crystalize it on my page and make it my own because I could not have said it any better!
Benaam sa yeh dard thahar kyon nahi jaata
jo beet gaya hai vo guzar kyon nahi jaata
Sab kuch to hai kya dhoondti rahti hain nigaahein
Kya baat hai main waqt pe ghar kyoon nahi jaata
Vo ek hi chahra to nahi saare jahan main
Jo door hai vo dil se utar kyon nahi jata
Main apni hi uljhi hui raahon ka tamasha
Jaate hai jidhar sab main udhar kyoon nahi jata
Vo naam jo barson se na chehra hai na badan hai
vo khwab agar hai to bikhar kyoon nahi jata
Friday, October 28, 2005
Thursday, October 27, 2005
Saga of Sacrifice
You asked me to sacrifice
The dearest thing of all
To prove my love
So,
I sacrificed
My love
Now, why does your face
Contort in anguish?
The dearest thing of all
To prove my love
So,
I sacrificed
My love
Now, why does your face
Contort in anguish?
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Thank You Guys!!
No, I am not going anywhere :-), so don't confuse this with a Goodbye message. You will be bombarded with many more posts, trust me. But I just wanted to say Thank You to all you guys and gals out there, who have been commenting on my blog. You have been the cutest of friends in this world (or should I say, around this world).
And here's also an Apology (noticed the Capital A?), because I have not been replying to your comments, though, I plan to do so in the future. You see, my problem is, God forgot to put that part in my brain which helps to handle praise (umm and criticism?). I am quite at loss of words when someone praises me. And you guys have been so kind to leave all those wonderful messages, that I am blushing all the way
:-)!
Having said that, there is a lot more to do; lot more to improve. I am aware of it, but your presence and support encourages me. So keep being this sweet always and my friends forever :-)
Love n Hugs
Arundhati
And here's also an Apology (noticed the Capital A?), because I have not been replying to your comments, though, I plan to do so in the future. You see, my problem is, God forgot to put that part in my brain which helps to handle praise (umm and criticism?). I am quite at loss of words when someone praises me. And you guys have been so kind to leave all those wonderful messages, that I am blushing all the way
:-)!
Having said that, there is a lot more to do; lot more to improve. I am aware of it, but your presence and support encourages me. So keep being this sweet always and my friends forever :-)
Love n Hugs
Arundhati
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Listen
Be quiet. Just be and listen awhile. Can you hear the silent murmur that goes on as a backdrop of your mind?
No? Listen, some more. Shhh, don't even let the sound of your breath come in the way.
Yes, I see that you are hearing it now. The smile on your face tells me that you are now tuned in to the music of the little brook that flows quietly, incessantly, boisterously at the core of your being, regardless of whether at the moment you are happy or sad, angry or satisfied, lonely or in midst of a crowd.
Have you ever wondered why, sometimes, you feel happy for no reason? Why a glint of a smile cracks through the darkness that surrounds you like a shroud? Why, you continue to do what you do, in spite of all the adversities that press you from all sides? Why, sometimes, after an episode of heart wrenching agony, when the possibility of being happy, ever, seems impossible, suddenly, inexplicably, a cool, tender peace sets in?
It is this sparkling flow within you that guides you to the light, when no light is possible. It the one that takes you to the heights when no flight is possible. It is what makes the emerald of an oasis possible in the midst of the desert. It is what keeps the will to live, alive in the little seed trapped in the smoldering belly of parched earth, so that, one day, it can burst to life when the Monsoons arrive. It is what keeps the miracle of life throbbing in the deepest of the seas and the harshest of the lands. It is what makes the mystery of creation possible, beyond all the theories of uncertainties and chance. It is what loves you, in spite of yourself.
Is it possible for you, just once in a while, to shed all these pretensions, remove all the masks that you wear and just be, open, unadulterated, non-critical, and listen to what the spring has to say? Maybe, it has many stories to tell you - stories of faith, purity, beauty and serenity.
Do you see where I am taking you?
No? Listen, some more. Shhh, don't even let the sound of your breath come in the way.
Yes, I see that you are hearing it now. The smile on your face tells me that you are now tuned in to the music of the little brook that flows quietly, incessantly, boisterously at the core of your being, regardless of whether at the moment you are happy or sad, angry or satisfied, lonely or in midst of a crowd.
Have you ever wondered why, sometimes, you feel happy for no reason? Why a glint of a smile cracks through the darkness that surrounds you like a shroud? Why, you continue to do what you do, in spite of all the adversities that press you from all sides? Why, sometimes, after an episode of heart wrenching agony, when the possibility of being happy, ever, seems impossible, suddenly, inexplicably, a cool, tender peace sets in?
It is this sparkling flow within you that guides you to the light, when no light is possible. It the one that takes you to the heights when no flight is possible. It is what makes the emerald of an oasis possible in the midst of the desert. It is what keeps the will to live, alive in the little seed trapped in the smoldering belly of parched earth, so that, one day, it can burst to life when the Monsoons arrive. It is what keeps the miracle of life throbbing in the deepest of the seas and the harshest of the lands. It is what makes the mystery of creation possible, beyond all the theories of uncertainties and chance. It is what loves you, in spite of yourself.
Is it possible for you, just once in a while, to shed all these pretensions, remove all the masks that you wear and just be, open, unadulterated, non-critical, and listen to what the spring has to say? Maybe, it has many stories to tell you - stories of faith, purity, beauty and serenity.
Do you see where I am taking you?
Friday, October 21, 2005
Wednesday, October 19, 2005
I have known what its like
I have known what its like to fall in the abyss of pain - to wallow, to cry, to entreat, beseech; to fall flat on the face and roll in the excrement of self pity and regrets.
I have known what its like to be angry - to breathe fire and smolder the vestiges of tenderness; to nip the bud of faith in the womb; to utter searing, scathing words and revel in the sharpness of my bloody nails, sinking slowly in the flesh.
I have known what its like to be bitter and unfair - to fall to lowest of the lows, just to raise myself to the dizzy, faulty heights.
But then, I have also known what it is like to smile and caress, kiss and embrace, care and dream, sing and sleep.
Isn't this life worth living?
I have known what its like to be angry - to breathe fire and smolder the vestiges of tenderness; to nip the bud of faith in the womb; to utter searing, scathing words and revel in the sharpness of my bloody nails, sinking slowly in the flesh.
I have known what its like to be bitter and unfair - to fall to lowest of the lows, just to raise myself to the dizzy, faulty heights.
But then, I have also known what it is like to smile and caress, kiss and embrace, care and dream, sing and sleep.
Isn't this life worth living?
Monday, October 10, 2005
Tuesday, October 4, 2005
To the Greatest Bro in the world
I have been trying to write you something since morning, but getting entangled in this and that. Isn't this pathetic, that I cannot find time and words for you, on your birthday? But then, we have never been the weepy-huggy brother and sister, have we? We have never needed to give a proof of how much we love each other. We have just been there for each other, standing by the side, silently, knowingly, protectively, all our lives. There have been periods when we have not talked for months, not seen each other for years, yet the bond has not weakened even slightly. In fact, as we have grown and flourished, and often stumbled in the world, we have looked at each other for support, for appreciation, for advice and received all that and much more just when we needed it.
Do you know how I always remember you? To me you are not the successful, ambitious executive that you are now. Neither are you the teenager who was pushed into adulthood a little too soon, to shoulder the burden of life. I see you as my big little brother with a shock of unruly, curly hair, a mark shaped like moon on your forehead, wearing a colorful, printed shirt, your thin legs shooting out of blue school shorts, frolicking and whipping the sunflowers on the banks of the Tigris. And, I would be running right behind you - a gawky, scrawny child, with bushy brown hair blowing in the wind, my eyes half closed with glee. I revered you then, and tried to mimic every act of yours. I would gladly be your accomplice, your assistant, in whatever you chose to do.
You were always the good one - God's own child; Loved, respected, appreciated by one and all. And me? I was wild! I never resented you for being the nice kid, but somewhere I aspired to be like you. If not that, at least, I wanted to be appreciated by you. But only now do I realize that being the ideal one was, in fact, your cross to bear. For it meant that you are not allowed to falter, not allowed to be mediocre, not allowed to cry. Yet you have borne the responsibility so well and come out of it all, swinging.
You have been so many things for me - a brother, a friend, a mentor, a long lost father - all rolled into one. And, I have never found enough and appropriate words to thank you. That would been an open display of emotions - a breach of the private set of unwritten rules we follow while we interact with each other. We understand each other so well that, often, our conversation sounds cryptic even to our own mother. So many things are unsaid, but understood, untold but heard, I wish we could decipher all that for the benefit of others.
There are so many memories, can I ever chronicle all of them? From building a mud grave in the front yard or our old house in Wai for the little black kitten who died in your palm, to walking together on the dazzling streets of New York. From running behind each other, bruised and filthy on the sand hills in Baghdad, to putting my head on your shoulders and crying when you gave me away in marriage, there are many bitter-sweet moments we have lived together. The life has not stopped yet and as we co-exist in new dimensions of adulthood and families and there are many more sparkling moments to come.
As you add new year to your life, let me tell you this. Grow up, but don't loose your self. Reach out to the stars, but don't ever forget me. Be the ideal man for the world, but occasionally, taste what its like to be wild, for your wild sister will be there forever!
Do you know how I always remember you? To me you are not the successful, ambitious executive that you are now. Neither are you the teenager who was pushed into adulthood a little too soon, to shoulder the burden of life. I see you as my big little brother with a shock of unruly, curly hair, a mark shaped like moon on your forehead, wearing a colorful, printed shirt, your thin legs shooting out of blue school shorts, frolicking and whipping the sunflowers on the banks of the Tigris. And, I would be running right behind you - a gawky, scrawny child, with bushy brown hair blowing in the wind, my eyes half closed with glee. I revered you then, and tried to mimic every act of yours. I would gladly be your accomplice, your assistant, in whatever you chose to do.
You were always the good one - God's own child; Loved, respected, appreciated by one and all. And me? I was wild! I never resented you for being the nice kid, but somewhere I aspired to be like you. If not that, at least, I wanted to be appreciated by you. But only now do I realize that being the ideal one was, in fact, your cross to bear. For it meant that you are not allowed to falter, not allowed to be mediocre, not allowed to cry. Yet you have borne the responsibility so well and come out of it all, swinging.
You have been so many things for me - a brother, a friend, a mentor, a long lost father - all rolled into one. And, I have never found enough and appropriate words to thank you. That would been an open display of emotions - a breach of the private set of unwritten rules we follow while we interact with each other. We understand each other so well that, often, our conversation sounds cryptic even to our own mother. So many things are unsaid, but understood, untold but heard, I wish we could decipher all that for the benefit of others.
There are so many memories, can I ever chronicle all of them? From building a mud grave in the front yard or our old house in Wai for the little black kitten who died in your palm, to walking together on the dazzling streets of New York. From running behind each other, bruised and filthy on the sand hills in Baghdad, to putting my head on your shoulders and crying when you gave me away in marriage, there are many bitter-sweet moments we have lived together. The life has not stopped yet and as we co-exist in new dimensions of adulthood and families and there are many more sparkling moments to come.
As you add new year to your life, let me tell you this. Grow up, but don't loose your self. Reach out to the stars, but don't ever forget me. Be the ideal man for the world, but occasionally, taste what its like to be wild, for your wild sister will be there forever!
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