A short story

The Vengeance

It was just another morning for Taufiq bhai. For others in the community it was a special weekly event. It was the auspicious day of jumma. Taufiq bhai was feeling too lazy to get out of his “bed” – a chaotic arrangement of rugs and rags on mud plastered floor in the backyard of his two room “house”. Like the other houses of the mohallah, his house too was a typical muslim house – a couple of rooms enclosed within a rough, partially broken boundary wall and a clumsy jute curtain thrown carelessly at the entrance. A few goats tied in the verandah and a dozen chickens all over the place.
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
The morning azaan had commenced.
“Damn this rogue. Can’t he let me sleep a little more?” Taufiq bhai was not at all pleased with the shrieking high pitched voice of Munne khan – the son of “khoosat” imam or “the diseased” imam – as he was fondly called by many. It was not because of his habit of waking people up so early that he was hated so much but because of his liaisons with the corrupt politicians and his dirty ways of luring and convincing people away to vote for “hand” or “cycle” or “elephant” or any other symbol during the elections. The rumour said that he demanded thousands of rupees for a single vote from the mohallah.
“L’aa-i-l’aaaaha i’llaaaah…… muhammaad-ul-rasooool allaaaah…….”
-
The azaan was not stopping. Neither was it supposed to.
“May Allah curse you and your entire family, you son of the diseased one… damn you!” Taufiq bahi stood up stretching his arms in air and despair. Although he seemed quite disturbed by the morning call yet he had no choice but to get ready and head towards the Lal masjid before it was too late and before the sun showed up. Afterall, it was the day of Jumma. He quickly wore his baniyaan, tied up his tehmat, got into his chappals and grabbed his white prayer cap before rushing towards the street in anger.
Even in the early morning hours the narrow cobbled street was as crowded as it got during the day. Everybody was rushing towards the masjid - the old and the young, fathers and sons, friends and foes, the rich and the poor – everybody. It was indeed the day of jumma. One could hear all sorts of sounds - people talking to each other, children laughing, old men coughing and boys whispering. It seemed like a piece of fast bollywood number with the chattering of chappals rendering a rhythm to the whole thing.
As Taufiq bhai approached the masjid, the voice of Munne khan in the old disfigured loudspeaker got stronger and stronger. He was reciting the same old verses from the Quran which Taufiq bhai had been listening for forty, maybe, fifty years altogether, since his childhood – the verses in Arabic he could hardly understand. But surprisingly Munne Khan’s voice was fresh and young and his pronunciation profound, unlike the khoosat imam, though he shrieked twice as much as his father. It was for the first time that Munne was guiding the jumma prayers since his homecoming. Taufiq bhai had heard that he was a bright lad and that is why he could make it to Deoband to graduate as a maulvi. They said it was after years that a maulvi from Agra had graduated from Deoband. Taufiq bhai though knew in his heart that it was more of his father’s influence and precious contacts with a bonus of his capability to pay the hefty donations, that had helped Munne graduate in this fancy manner. A passing thought ran through his mind – could he ever do the same for any of his sons? The answer was simple.
Lal Masjid could now be seen clearly on the opposite side of Chauranga road, where Taufiq bhai had finally reached through the snaking narrow brick lane of the mohallah. It was one of the busiest roads of Agra and housed numerous shops and small workshops on the either side. Taufiq bhai too worked in one of these auto workshops. He was lucky enough to work with Naveen bhai, a Hindu. Naveen bhai’s workshop was quite renowned and there was no dearth of work. And Naveen bhai himself was a nice man. He would never shout at anyone and was gentle enough to grant paid leaves to his workers, nearly all of them Muslims, during the holy month of ramzaan. But most importantly, he had a special regard for Taufiq bhai given their long association and good faith. Taufiq bhai paused for a minute and looked around at the road. The market was closed and the road was choked with hundreds of heads, all covered in white circular prayer caps. There were some cows lying beside the garbage heaps munching their find. Loudspeaker was at its worst and it had started irritating Taufiq bhai even more.
“May Allah curse you, the evil one!” he whispered, maybe a bit loudly.
-
“Whom are you cursing Taufiq bhai?” A soft sarcastic voice came from behind.
Damn! Was he overheard?
Taufiq bhai turned around and found wicked Naseem, his neighbour grinning at him.
“Umm… nobody Naseem bhai…..just these cows….the beasts are blocking the way of our brethren...” Taufiq bhai made it up quickly.
“Hahahaha… you are absolutely right my brother…” Naseem laughed back.
“I wonder why are these bloody cows sitting here when they can serve the appetite of our entire mohallah for a week? Isn’t it stupid to watch your dinner up so close and still not have the power to eat it?” Naseem was serious this time.
“But isn’t it illegal to kill a cow?” Taufiq bhai retaliated.
“Arrrgh! Who made these laws? These kaafirs? I don’t abide to these stupid laws. I only believe in the laws of Quran Sharif. You know, we regularly make a cow halaal at my place. What does it take? Just a hundred rupee note for that Hindu constable? And it’s worth it my brother. You don’t know what sort of treat you are missing.” Naseem walked on.
Taufiq bhai stood, thinking.
“No… no... it’s not worth it…” He thought. “Why upset the Hindus when we can survive over the meat of buffalo? I am sure it tastes the same…. and this Naseem? He is an evil man…. Everybody knows this isn’t it?” He muttered in a consoling tone.
The sun had started shining brightly on the masjid, exposing its cheap red colour and un-plastered tall minaret - crowned with a big old shrieking loudspeaker. The masjid was small yet powerful and its power reflected not only in the numerous long prayer queues on the Chauranga Road but also in the hearts of the hundreds who had joined in on jumma, as a reassurance of faith, unity and brotherhood. Taufiq bhai too joined the ranks like a drop in the ocean though a bit unwillingly. He never liked this long tiresome ritual.
“L’aa-i-l’aaaaha i’llaaaah…… muhammaad-ul-rasooool allaaaah…….”
-
Munne khan guided the people of faith through the entire ritual of jumma prayers with utmost confidence and serenity. His words were heavy but clear and his voice fresh, as it should have been. He delivered the Arabic verses in such a sophisticated manner that one could have easily passed his speech as an Arab’s. They could feel the depth of faith and honesty in his voice and many a men were so impressed that they imagined it coming straight from the holy prophet himself. Such was an impact of Munne khan on his first day as an imam. Surprisingly, Taufiq bhai too, who would take the jumma prayer as a horrible formality, was mesmerized by Munne khan.
“Peace be upon our prophet Hazrat Muhammad, sallallaaaho-w’aalai-wassallam”
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
As the long ritual of prayers came to an end, it was time for the weekly sermon. Everybody eagerly waited to hear what the new imam had to say on his first day.
“Bismillaah-ur-rahmaan-ar-raheem….”
“Brethren, by the grace of Allah, I have, today – for the first time, an opportunity to speak to you and share the golden words of Quran-e-paak and Hadees. And share with you what our prophet had expected of us when he had bestowed upon us the faith of Islam and the wish of Allah, and also what have we become today. I want to share with you the facts, of which, you are most certainly unaware, for, if you were aware of those, you would not just sit idle in your homes or serve the kaafirs all day, but would unite and fight for your rights – the rights gifted to you by none other than the holy prophet himself through the numerous verses in the holy book.”
Munne khan’s explosive words had already charged up the atmosphere and everybody without exception had their ears fixed on his voice.
“Have you ever thought my brethren, who you really are? Are you a pathan or a husseini? Are you a shia or a sunni? Are you a bareilvi or a dakkhini? Who are you my brother? Lest you are confused, let me remind you – you are nobody, mind me, nobody, except a mussalmaan! And that is because you were born at Allah’s will and so will you die. And if you know this fact then you must also know that Allah has mercy on every mussalmaan and also that if you are not a mussalmaan first, then you are a kaafir, just like many who throng this land of Hindustan today like untamed cattle. And do I need to remind you about the fate of kaafirs, my dear ones?”
Munne khan roared like a lion. The kid was indeed gifted.
“This land of Hindustan that was once ruled by our forefathers has now been taken over by the kaafirs, can’t you see? Can’t you see how these kaafirs, who had been conquered over and destroyed by our mighty Mughal ancestors, have once again stolen the riches and nobility befooling you, using their old filthy ways? If anyone among you has read the holy Quran, he must know what the verse five of the chapter nine says. And because it seems to me that none of you has indeed read our holy book with seriousness, let me quote – then, when the sacred months have passed, slay the kaafirs wherever you find them, and capture them and besiege them, and prepare for them each and every ambush – but if they repent and accept Islam, then leave their way free. Verily, Allah is most forgiving, most merciful”
“L’aa-i-l’aaaaha i’llaaaah…… muhammaad-ul-rasooool allaaaah…….”
“Remember, o my brethren, we exist today because our forefathers fought for our tanzeem, for our Islam, for our honour, for us! It was them who brought this land of kaafirs under Daarul-Islam. It was them who conquered and killed a hundred thousand kaafir kings and showed the way of Islam to their hundred million subjects. It was them who ruled this land for a thousand years. And look what has happened to the might of Islam today. Look!”
“You slave all day for a Hindu baniya who throws some pieces of bread at you and you eat it like a dog. What has come upon you my brethren? What is it that has turned you Mussalmans into cowards of no soul?
Visibly, a wave of anger, disgust and guilt swept through masses and a hundred heads covered with white prayer caps shook in disbelief.
“Do you have a slightest idea what these kaafirs are doing to our people? If no, then let me remind you about the martyrdom of our beloved Baabri masjid. They destroyed it in front of our eyes and what could we do? They killed thousands of our mussalmaan brothers and raped thousands of our mothers and sisters in Gujarat and Kashmir and elsewhere and what could we do? If you can’t hear their cries and can’t feel their pain, you have no right to live! You have no right to live if you don’t have power to avenge. And you will never have power to avenge if you don’t rule this land and believe me brethren, you will never be able to rule this land unless you dream of it, unless you dream of our land, the land of Islam, the land of Mughalstan!!”
Mughalstan! Mughalstan? A brief pause gave way to the whispers of curiosity.
“Yes Mughalstan!!!!”
The voice thundered and words exploded like a killing bolt of lightening.
“Our brothers took Pakistan fifty years back and five years hence, we will take Mughalstan – our destined land! Kashmir, Himachal, Haryana, Dilli, Punjab, UP, Bihar and Bengal will be taken and will be governed by us, in the name of shariya, in the name of Allah, the most merciful. The entire land will belong to us – to our tanzeem. We will connect Pakistan to Bangladesh, inshallah! Once again we will rule this land, bringing an end to our filthy exploitation. None of us shall remain deprived. None of our brother shall be killed by the kaafirs and none of our sister shall weep. And to achieve this, we must unite. We must consolidate our efforts and energies. And if need be we shall kill every single of these treacherous kaafirs for, as we all know, a muslim life is more precious than a million kaafir lives put together. They shall be eliminated sans mercy if they dare touch any of our brother!”
“Don’t worry my fellows, everything is ready and everything has been planned. Accurately.”
“Aameen…”
-
“Aameen…”
-
“Aameen…”
-
Many a fists rose in air. And a thousand angry passionate voices screamed and echoed on the road like an approaching hurricane.
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
“Allaaaah-o-akbaaar……”
-
“Mughalstan Zindabaad….”
-
“Mughalstan Zindabaad….”
-
The dream ran through their minds like an English action movie. Their eyes twinkled with zest of revenge and hatred. Many a bodies trembled with excitement and many a souls lost the fear of death. They could smell victory in their numbers and terror in their smiles. They started dispersing quickly repeating the name of the holy prophet, only to come back in far greater numbers, the next jumma.
-
“….how on earth could I be so naïve? Isn’t he absolutely correct? Haven’t these Hindus turned us into beggars? Look at Naveen. He lives in a kothi. And look at me who lives in a jhuggi. I toil all day and he keeps all the profit. And worse, he is a bloody kaafir, born to serve and I am a Mussalmaan, born to rule. Isn’t that an irony! But praises to Allah, this is going to change soon.”
“Naveen bhai, be prepared to pay for your misdeeds because the day is not far when I will have your shop and your kothi and you shall be driven away to hell…hahahahah…”
Taufiq bahi was feeling a new energy in his heart and a new strength in his limbs as he walked chuckling to himself. The passion of youth overtook the aging body. It was a rebirth, or maybe, the real birth.
-
“And you, the sacred one, see you today at Naseem’s place….”
He muttered, smiled sarcastically and greedily… and kicked the cow that had blocked his way.



Atri Joshi
<230320081230>

Pain

Maybe this is why I do not stay at home. It provokes me to think. To think about myself. Today when I was trying to make a list of courses I "want" to apply for, i suddenly realized that this is not something I "want" to do, but some thing I "should" do. Fuck! What the hell was I doing? What the hell was I doing for the last some months? I was not being myself. I was betraying myself. I was acting like a good boy. I was acting as a responsible person. And in the process I was killing myself. I was trying to adapt to a world of corporate sharks. I was negating my hard earned 5 years which made me what I am today. Why was I running towards hell? No answer. Its just that this is what one must do. I do shit all day at my office and call it management. I abuse people on my way back home and call it a necessity. I feel like drinking to get over the ugly day and I want to try smoking. What the fuck?? Whats wrong? I keep telling myself that I must do all this to earn and support my home. I must stay with my father because he needs me. Is this true? Is it okay to kill oneself everyday to "support" his home? I dont know. But what I know that when I was weeping and crying for help today and when i was desperate to talk to an angel, I found none. I scanned them and I found that I mean no more that an iota to them.
I found myself alone. I am not sure what I want in life. But I know what I enjoying doing? One thing that I have realized over months is that I am an architect. I cant kill the architect in me. And I want to use my skills NOT for myself but for those whom I dont know. Who live a struggling life yet manage to laugh. For those who expect nothing from me but who shed a tear or two when they can trust me. There are many who need me and whom I need. I, however, do not need these selfish bunch of people around me.
I believe in you God. Please forgive me and show me the way. I trust you and love you. Protect me form these sharks God. You sent me here. You will protect me and my people I know. Take the fear out of me o God. I pray.

Till I go to sleep

Whatever they say and whatever they ask for,
Whatever they expect and whatever they laugh for,
I can not have what's not my tea
Its crystal n clear; its loud n big
Let me be what I'm supposed to be
Dont force me hard, dont push me deep
Wont give up my dreams till I go to sleep.

~Atri <251220070905>

Quotes

Do few things, make sure that they are the right things to do and then do them brilliantly.

Creativity is thinking different. Innovation is doing different. (Azim Premji)

I may walk slow but I never walk back. (Abraham Lincoln)

You can fool all people sometime, you can fool some people everytime but you can’t fool all people everytime. (Abraham Lincoln)

This is quite true

"Be not too hasty ...
to trust, or to admire,
the teachers of morality;
they discourse like angels,
but they live like men."

Samuel Johnson

Feel good factor

Feeling a lot better today. Maybe its because the type of work in the office has changed. From execution to planning. Planning seems good. Yesterday I met Mausi and Dada. Dada is all that same. Mausi too is same though she was missing her college environment - peace and tranquality, energy and creativity. Here in Delhi, past was lingering on. But I know she will conquer the world one day. She will shine like a star. And I also got a renewed will to migrate. I have to make this happen man. This is not where i am destined to live. Three cheers to Dada and Mausi. They made my day.

God, save me!!!

Guess what? I finally made it to Mata Vaishno Devi's Durbar. It was good. It was something that I wanted to do for a long time. But it was more of a ritual than a real spiritually satisfying trip. I know its not correct to state this but its true. Somehow the excitement, the longing and the expectation was not upto the mark. I was lacking in something. I was lacking in faith. I tried to generate some, but succeeded only partially. I thought it over. Why did I lack that faith? Maybe I have stopped expecting even from gods. I know. I know it’s a shame to speak thus, but let me complete. I have given up. But I have only stopped expecting the emotional support. Rest is okay. God has given me everything I had desired. I have celebrated with him and thanked him. But in the matters of heart, I have lost. Nobody seems to be around now, not even God. I went to Vaishno Devi with only one wish, though I pretended to take along a list of wishes for my family members and friends. I tried to be politically correct with God. But I know he knows that there was only one thing on my mind – to pray to get a partner. I prayed for it and for all. I am not sure whether my prayer will be answered because I am a strange person. I am still living in past and future and I keep on losing on present. When I first liked a girl, I didn't even know I liked her and there is more that one should do apart from keeping on liking. And the only girl I have ever loved (in a sense of falling in love), to whatever extent, even refuses to be loved. Its an irony, isn’t it? Although I have vowed not to think in that manner, but its not going from my mind 100%. I still visualize her as a perfect match sometimes and its dangerous. I don’t want to do this. I want to move on. I want to be told that there a plenty of such matches in this world. But I fail to find one. I am desperate to find the same as soon as possible. I am sure I will move on then. But as on today I cant leave her like that. I don’t know why but I have taken some sort of moral responsibility on myself to take care of her. Maybe its part of me. I don’t want to be mean and slimy. I don’t want to be a liar and a hypocrite. I just want to move on. With her or alone. God! Just do something. Save me!

Wow!! Its Hindi folks!

क्यूँ डरें, ज़िन्दगी में क्या होगा
कुछ ना होगा तो तजरुबा होगा...

Common man

Common Man

There was a time (and maybe still is) when I used to dream utopian. There was a time when I was unaware about how a real human being behaves when he is set free. I was even unaware about the weaknesses that are inherent in a human being. I was an idealist but being an idealist is not enough, I have learnt for it makes you blind. It makes you blind about how the world moves actually. An idealist just dreams in his own world.
But being stationed here in Jammu, surrounded by real people has taught me a lot. It has been an interesting journey to learn how the "common man" behaves. I have never had such an interaction with the "common man" earlier, except in Nigeria where I passed them as exceptions. And thats because he (the common man) used to hide behind my relatives, friends and people whom I respected and trusted. But the question here is - who IS this common man? What does he look like?
A common man is a married man with two kids and a wife, working in a renowned company for Rs 25,000 a month. He is 35 years old and owns a car, although he lives in a rented house. He lives in the society, surrounded by various people. He follows the customs and his religion and is quite God fearing. He loves his family and his parents and has no great ambitions except to increase his income twofolds, maybe.
He has mastered the art of looking content and is extremely concious of his image. He says he drinks socially and smokes no more than a couple of cigarettes a day and he is proud that he has controlled his senses after marriage and that is why he disapproves of looking at other (pretty) women. A common man, my dear friends is a liar and a hypocrite. He is selfish and jealous and he is also dishonest and corrupt but most importantly he is weak and timid. Here I present before you the real face of the "common man". You give him just a little bit of freedom and he turns out to be a satan, a mean slimy organism who can fill your heart with unimaginable hatred. He is not a lion but a wolf he is not a hawk but a vulture. He is cunning and crooked and he strikes on your back.
You give him free liquor and he turns out to be a drunkard. You show him a dark alley with a lonely damsel and he turns out to be a rapist (provided the damsel forgets every damn thing the following morning). You give him a million rupees and he can sell away his country. He doesnt mind cheating on his wife time and again while away from home. He doesnt mind stealing goodies if no ones watching and he can hurl every abuse on this earth to the womankind if noone is listening. He has an eye on his younger sister but is too afraid to make a move. He can kill his boss and his wife and throw away their corpses in river but is too weak to proceed. He can rob a bank provided you give him safe haven. He can even abandon his children if you assure him that someone would not let them die on streets.
This is the "common man". The man next door. The man on street riding a hero honda. The man working as a financial advisor in ICICI bank. The man who enjoys cricket after workin 10 hours in the office. The man who never forgets to bring gifts for your children on Diwali. He moves amongst us - the "common man". Beware !!

~<051120071057>

Whatta month !!

Jammu, Jammu and Jammu. This entire month was devoted to Jammu. What a chaos! What a race! What a noise! What an energy! What an excitement! What a learning! Simply Great!!
It was a golden opportunity to work on my skills and acquire new ones. A boost in my professional life, I'd say. I enjoyed it. And I can never forget the golden words by Mr. Chandra, "Success should succeed in succession"
These corporate people are so motivated to succeed, to prove themselves and to achieve the set goals. Why are the architects so lousy?? I have understood certainly that to build something big, this sort of motivation is a prerequisite. No escape from hard work and precise thought. No gol-mol talks. Only the edge wins man!

Lust and Love

It is a bit difficult to define the term love because it is used in a number of contexts. Some times it is said to be pure and divine like "love of a mother for her child", sometimes its romantic as in "falling (or rising, whatever)" in love, sometimes it is pure sex like "making love". Yesterday I was thinking about the exixtence of romantic love without lust. Is it possible? The answer is NO. Romance is the foreground of sex. But the sex that follows romance is beautiful and romance still remains a seperate entity to be revered. Sex between lovers is divine and can be equated with heaven. But what about sex without love or bonding? Can it exist? Sex for the sake of sex? The answer is YES. It does exist. It is quite common. I see around so many people, young and old, married and single, who would not mind having a sexual encounter here and now. They say, they need it. If forced to stay away from their families, they'd do it often. They may even go to prostitutes. What is this? Is this negation of 5 million years of human evolution which has given romance and love? Maybe. Maybe nature is stronger than civilization. And mind you, i do not include the "courting and dances" aimed at having sex, in the category of romance. Because although it is true that romance will culminate in sex yet it is not what romance is directly aimed for. Sex is the consequence of romance not its sole goal. Whereas the courting and drama that goes on before pure and simple sex at whcih the mind is aimed, is part of sex.
So, what is sex without love and romance? I think it is just stimulation. It is just like jerking off with a better and more real fantasy. Nothing more than that.
After all, the part of brain that takes care of love is different than the part that gets stimulated during sex...

Duality of universe

Sometimes I think about the great ocean of thoughts. An ocean of Floating Frames. Frame of each action. Frame of each event. Even intent is written as an action. Then there might be a clash of intents. Then I realize that there is this dual nature of universe, and not singular nature that I have believed in previously. The duality consists of:
1. Manifest and its concentrations
2. Thought and its concentrations

Manifest is matter and energy in simple terms. Thought is intent and intellect. Both manifest and thought are intermingled like a homogeneous mixture of gases. Somewhere there is a huge concentration of manifest but low concentration of thought. Somewhere the concentration of thought is much more than that of manifest. But never there is a time not there is a place where there is no manifest or thought. Everywhere and every time all manifest has had thought and all thoughts have had manifestation. For example, even a still object like pebble has thought and even a thought (like me playing in clouds) has manifest. The scale might differ. All instances of thought and manifest can affect all other instances to a degree proportional to their own concentration.

Then there are numerous concentrations of thought and manifest in this ocean/universe. Each of these great concentrations is at a safe distance of space and time from each other to maintain the balance. Each of these great concentrations has a power to affect its surroundings. Their effect decreases with space and time but never dies out.

The systems of manifest and thought though are intermingled and have an effect on each other yet they are distinct systems. There is no inter-convertibility. Or maybe there is. Its hard to tell.

All degrees of concentrations are present but the larger concentrations keep on becoming larger and larger, swallowing numerous smaller ones. Hence, there are somewhat distinct systems that take birth, with a great concentration as the ‘focus’ and subordinate concentrations around. Concentration of manifest is through its nature which is governed by its physical properties. Concentration of thought is through intelligent intent of its master concentration. This great master concentration of thought is a ‘God’ for its inferior concentrations or those which lie in proximity of space and time.

It is up to a ‘God’ to create, use/play or destruct its subject concentrations of thought. It is up to a ‘God’ to make rules of the game and change them at his will. Every ‘God’ is a subject to its superior ‘God’. So every ‘God’ can “think” inside the framework created by its superior ‘God’. There is, hence, an individual freedom of thought granted to each concentration by its superior ‘God’ to act itself as a ‘God’ to still inferior concentrations. But it is only up to a ‘God’ to grant that freedom. It’s a God’s wish. There might be a ‘God’ who gives no freedom to think to its subordinates. There might be a cruel ‘God’. There might be systems where the rules say that that you have to kill others to survive i.e. diffuse other concentrations to save oneself. Somewhat like our own system. There might be a creative ‘God’ on the other hand, which lays down that you have to create more systems in order to survive.

Then what is the relationship of manifest and thought? A certain kind of manifestation can support a higher degree of thought. It is solely dependent on the nature of manifest (its physical properties) how thought can “live” entangled to it. Otherwise it won’t “stick” to it to a greater extent. I must say here that a concentration of thought is not obliged to get “stuck” or “live” in/with a concentration of manifest. Though there might be certain concentrations of manifest that attract thought to get “stuck” to them. It is purely dependent on a ‘God’ to design thoughts which stick to a certain concentration of manifest. There might be numerous concentrations of thought around us but we can’t experience them through our manifested bodies really well because the degree of effect that manifest can have on other manifest is far greater than that which thought has on manifest. So we mostly experience only those thoughts which are entangled to manifest. But in our experience of thought we rarely need a manifestation for experience because same principle follows here as well.

Our ‘God’ is an intelligent ‘God’ and it has designed thoughts to use a certain concentration manifest, maybe the one which has carbon. The choice reflects the efficiency of thought to use manifest and create bigger and bigger thoughts. It’s a game of creation of thought and diffusion of manifest in the long run. It’s a good plot. Keep it up ‘God’!

Freedom of sorrow

Do they love me?

I wonder often about the people I love. My father, Baby Mausi, Puneet, Jayant, Shivani, Abhro, Surbhi, Ravi Chacha, Nikku Chacha, Buajis and others. I then ask myself a question (which is politically incorrect to ask though) that do they too love me to that extent? And i find that that no, they do not love me to that extent. They dont bother too much. They pretend to know that I am okay. They pretend to know that I can do without them. This goes to a higher degree with my friends because the relatives still face the social compulsion to enquire about the well being. But the rest are with me till I make an effort to be with them. The day I become incapable of putting that effort, they will totally abandon me. I am not even sure whether they will take out time to come for my cremation when I die. Probably they will send the messages of disbelief and despair on their mobiles among themselves and think that they are done.
Quite horrible it sounds. But it is true.
I wish I have a life partner who pledges to BE with me in all hardships and all celebrations. One who is by my side while I die in peace holding her hand. But alas I dont find any such person around. All I find is a bunch of self engrossed, self obsessed and selfish bunch of people who are never ready to come close to my heart. Maybe there are exceptions but God only knows what lies beneath them.
So be it!

Feelin Somethin

I dont know why am I feeling that somethin good is going to happen to me very soon.
Inshallah!

Life 1

I dont know how many things have taken place in these past few months. A lot has changed, I have changed. To summarize, Jainsaab has come back from Turkey. His coming back meant a surge in my energy too. He is so supportive! I feel he is the only person who is with me in letter and spirit. He can proclaim aloud that he is my friend and that he cares, and not only this, he really does take care. That is why I was missing him so much when he was away. Its not possible for me to describe how much do i wish him to succeed as a great architect. Well he is back now. He needs to focus himself though to achieve his goal. I often wonder why does my life revolves around my friends, when their lives do not include me to that extent. I have no answer. This is how it is. Abhro is like a brother. He cares but he tries to remain too safe. And also, he thinks of himself as somebody who is not capable of taking much care of his loved ones. He is wrong. He is capable. But is not willing to try. If at all he tried to come in foreground, to say that Yes I take the responsibility. Yes I am with you, Yes I will take care of you, I'd would have been really proud of him. Maybe he says this with conviction to some people. People who are closer to his heart. But I am not the lucky one.
Then, Mansi didi got married. I was dumb enough not to attend her wedding. I regret it. But I know she and Surbhi will forgive me for that. When I had met Surbhi on the day when Shivani was treating us before leaving, i had an impression that all is not well between her and Raj. And Shivani also told me afterwards that there was a problem. Maybe she had had a word with her. I wanted to talk to her about this but the occassion was so good that i couldn't spoil her mood. I want to know and I want to help. But I know Surbhi. She will never talk about this, atleast on phone. I will have to visit her soon. Surbhi is so complete a girl. I really admire her. I dont know whether to say this or not (because she is with Raj) that I also love her. I can never see her sad. She is so sweet. How can she be sad?? She does not deserve it. Then i wonder, why do we live in a society where saying that "I love you" is a taboo? Why is it taken in a wrong way. If love somebody, does it imply that i am romantically linked with that person? No. I just love. And I am not ashamed to say that. I can proclaim that in public, but people would not like it not even people whom I love. They'd be embarrassed. What is the big deal? I understand that if somebody is in a "relationship" he or she would not like to be "loved" by another person. But to me its shit. How can you not like being loved. Afterall I am not after you. I am with you.
Precisely is the case with Shivani. Maybe she is someone whom I love the most on this earth. It can not be expressed in words, but I had hard time make her believe that my intentions are "not bad". Why was it such a burden on her? Is it a sin to love? Or is it taken for granted that if you love a person, you are longing for his or her romance? If I said that that I never wanted to marry her then I'd be lying. But I always suppressed and killed this thought for ever. But then I cant stop loving her. Its not a sin. I have done nothing wrong. I still remember what she once said to me on a rainy evening - "Whether I will be with Kuber or not, maybe, is uncertain but you will never be the one in my life". I stood listening and I promised. I stand by my promise. I killed the thought. But banishing the force of expression is hard. Its tough to act formal on all counts. Why is it like that? Why does the term "boyfriend" or "girlfriend" hold a superlative degree to the the term "friend"?
When I think all this, i also feel that I am a fool. I am running around and proclaiming that Yes I am with you. But people say "what the fuck dude? whats wrond with you? we dont need you to be special. Just be in your limits. Dont dare express yourself or we'll just chuk you out. Afterall its for your own satisfaction that you are trying to be with us. It wont matter to us much even if you leave. We have other options. Ok? So be a good boy. Behave yourself". This is what they say. And I just listen. I obey them. They are right. Its me who needs them. But i am tired of it. Tired of being a good obedient boy. I will have my life. Thay cant give me my life. I will have my life on my own. Its quite possible that I live a lonely life. But atleast I will enjoy my true self. Though I will always love them, whether they like it or not. Its certain.

Heaven

There can be as many interpretations of heaven as there are people on this earth. maybe even more. Even I have some picture imaginations of heaven. One of them is running and dancing through the pure white clouds...like snow or like unspun cotton...clear blue sky over them...and calm cool breeze flowing steadily. I often dream that i am running through this bliss talking to the clouds....there is no one else, no worries, no fear, no dissatisfaction, nothing...just me and heaven. Whenever i board a flight, the most enjoyable part is when the plane flies over the clouds and through. Somehow this view reminds me of my heaven. Its always a pleasure to fly through clouds. I enjoy myself. A pure and simple smile surrounds me. I often feel, then, that i am really in heaven.

Missing her

Since yesterday i am terribly missing her. dont know why. maybe there is too much to say and too much to hear. too much to share. but i am alone. there was a time when i wanted to cry in her arms but she was not around. i had to hold my tears. there was a time when i wanted to experience that bliss of monsoon winds, those heavenly showers with her. i wanted to play and i wanted to laugh but she was not there. i wanted to keep on watching her. keep looking in her eyes. keep holding her hand. but i was all alone.
i wonder when will she come? when will i have my life back? when will i be cared and be loved?
Only Lord knows

Women and skirt

Why do women wear skirt, while men do not? I was thinking about this today and many funny and interesting and bizarre answers came to my mind. In all cultures of the world, traditional female wear has no partition between two legs while most male dresses have one.
I think this has to do with the kind of work associated with the two genders. Obviously, skirt is more comfortable when you are in your home. And when you go out, you have to be tightly dressed. its difficult to run and hunt and battle wearing a skirt. and maybe this is the reason why men started using undergarments for the lower half much earlier than when women started using them. Funny but interesting. :)