LIVE & LET LIVE!

The hawker moved his cart calling out to sell bangles...

they were all spread  in a pattern, ranging from bold colours to pretty light ones

noticing a crowd of young women by a flower vendor, he rushed screaming to lure
them purchase bangles - crystal bangles, matching your clothes, bangles which  your hands well,
 bangles for all occasions could be yours a dozen just for ten rupees!!

He slowly noticed the crowd dispersed and circled him, each trying the bangles to fit their hands,
some searched the cart for the colours and designs they wanted..

He thought 'women are such a wonder, they could tirelessly search for what they like

and yet bargain for the same!!

   

          One of the young women caught his attention, she had a bright skin tone, was patient even while others voices echoed  around her' bhaiya ye kitna hai? green colour hai kya is size mai? ye thoda zada hai? he noticed that her stomach was a bump...she requested her neighbour to move aside and not push her trough the crowd as she was pregnant, may be this added to her patience.

the crowd took sometime to haggle and then started dispersing while the hawker's jaw dropped hearing an unfamiliar sound, it was loud and disastrous, there was a bomb blast!! his eyes winded as the pieces of glass from the bangles pierced his arm, the colour of all bangles looked same, all were red now, painted in blood! before anybody could notice what had happened  it swept them all off...some into death and some into being crippled for life,

       

         The hawker was at a distance, safe and alive but high with an unbelievable shock that he just witnessed..his thoughts were drawn to the pregnant women, was she safe?? he rushed to the scene where shreds from different bodies were soaked in blood,

shattered  parts of bikes and bicycles and everything in the surroundings, the gory scene depressed him instantly, he found the women after turning around the faces of few bodies..

Would he be able to recognize her as faces looked similar all smeared with blood, then he reached a women lying on her back face partially clear..this was her,wounded but breathing and he made a silent prayer thanking Allah as he rushed her to the ambulance. Staying by her side he managed to make her speak and
reqested the contact details of known people..no she dint have a phone nor did she respond to his question,with tearful eyes he looked at her as she lost her breath,parting with the desire to live!!

The hawker still prays for the peace of her soul everyday during Namaz.

    the Sun and Moon which we face are the same

    the shades of the sky above you and me remain same,
 
    the Earth which we share is the same,
 
    the pains and pleasures brought by the seasons are the same,

    the colour of our blood is the same,
 
    the difference just comes from our thoughts,

    live & let live!

Like me ..like u !!

She looked like a stranger as the mirror ignorantly reflected her pale figure...
lines of distress on her forehead with messy hair and withered lips
she smelt anguish in every breath... she was once herself, pretty, blush and beautiful
the lean and shrunken figure surprised her... it had been days since she looked at herself..

        No but she would not believe her damp eyes or the truthful glass..she had to get back to
being herself ,being her was the task now, because that meant ignoring everything that added to
making things bad. She sprung up had to take  chances and make a choice.. she wanted not to just be,
 but to be " herself " leaving her fear and doubtful thoughts behind she broke free for she realized that
 the reason to celebrate could be nothing grater than you for...
                         
                                               ' You are an OcAsSion' !

RAIN !!

              As though descending from heaven, she moved down with grace
         sharing and shattering, she spilled herself.
         She was welcomed by the waves and storm, the thirsty Earth getting quenched
         She trickled down in pride from a withered leaf and mingled with the dew on a smiling flower,
         them settled like a pearl on the lips of a girl.
         Alas! she was the rain from clouds as a tear, with flawless beauty crystal clear !!

           The girl smelled potted plants sitting by the window, plants seemed merry with the rain seeping into the mud. At a distance she observed a boy making paper boats for his little sister. Every boat she floated on the water moved slow and steady. Her brother handed over a bigger pink boat made of card paper to her it was real, tough and going to make its way over a long distance.He built a smaller blue boat for himself .

 She seemed extremely happy to own a bigger boat compared to his. They were now making their boats ready for a competition, they let the boats next to each other, they sat back and began to watch as to whose boat would win the marathon.  The girl giggled raising her eyebrows at her brother as her boat went faster than his. Gradually her smiles melted into a grin as the blue boat overtook her's. Noticing tears in his sisters little eyes her brother paced fast towards his boat and destroyed it, it was now a piece of paper into shreds!
Laughing the girl ran to her pink boat and splashed water with her little feet, drowning it. They played splashing water onto each other, drenching in the rain. On hearing their mother call out to them they walked homewards hand in hand. Thus ended their race in the rain :)


       

In LUV with the city @ 6 pm

      Weeks went by as I looked forward to the weekends , other days couldn't be easily differentiated as they moved with the same monotony. Nothing really kept my days enjoyable except for the evenings where I rush back from work and carry coffee up to the terrace and sip it wile watching the city lighten into dusk.

     I got introduced to the city few years ago, when I had come down to pursue my graduation. A lot has changed since then - new flyovers, bigger constructions, better  places to hangout, more traffic to compliment its better roads, brimming with people from different states.The real flavor of the city being its ethnicity - its food, festivals and the terrific lingo. To me it just remained pretty and perfect with forgivable flaws!
Unlike other Indian cities, every small restaurant here serves appetizing biryani. I have heard many people complain about the so called biryani restaurants in other states surprise them with.
Every lane and by-lane here hosts a small temple of one Goddess or another. I once happen to come across 16 such temples in a distance of about 7 kms, the rickshaw driver kept looking out and making a silent prayer as we crossed them.

    Hyderabad would continue to welcome people with its beautiful monuments portraying history, lovable Irani chai and flavorsome food, glittering nights during festivals. It has only been getting younger by the day!
On hearing Namaz being recited , I brought my thoughts back, I could then, feel peace in this prayer too... awakening the true spirit of the city!
   
    Night dropped like a veil over its pretty face, with every appearing star it grew darker , with lights shining to brighten its beauty, mesmerized, I looked forward for it to unveil opening up to a brighter tomorrow , to welcome people with dreams,warm memories and lasting success.

MEMORIES :)

Memories last as long as we give them a thought.

I spent the day searching for some certificates from school, my search ran into dusty bags filled with books and papers. My lips widened with a smile, hands eagerly flipping through the little book I had found.
That was a 'Slam Book' ,  my favorite purple and white blocks made it look more vibrant.

PAGE 1      : Was always kept for  the so called "best friend" , of course we were kids then and that made    this book more loveable
PAGE 2 to 10 : Kept for close friends
PAGE 10 to 20 : for the ones who were quiet on my side when things went wrong.
PAGES 20 and above: for the neutral neon's
LAST few pages: for those who did not care about being a part of anybody z  memories.

As I began reading I remember the efforts I had put in to persuade all those who filled in their wishes to stick their passport size photo as there was a slot for it.  Few friends had just registered their names and addresses and left the remaining for me to imagine! There was a column for noting our favorite teachers and subjects, this was a real hit cause each of us had our reasons to like them, (I learnt it later that the guys from my school had rather interesting reasons for the same column)what made me laugh most was the dated or signature column on the page. This had the most creative reactions ....
"Dated till you grow old"
"Dated till you stop painting and drawing"
"Dated till you kiss your own cheeks"
"Dated till X ma'am stops punishing me"
"Dated till you stop being friends with supriya"
"Dated till we get more holidays" and so on....

Next head turner for me was the photographs, they were far from comparison to our current profiles picks which flood on FB every now and then. Our choice for the locations was limited, but there was all place for beautiful smiles and the way we made every photo a picture perfect. I would make all attempts to upload a few when my friends forget calling me on my phone ;) ! but photos are more about memories and moments that passed and that would last every time we see them rather than the way we looked !

Dated till my friends complete the pages they registered on my slam book !! :)

SHADOW ...

She bent admiring her shadow in despair, looking like a mermaid with smooth chiselled curves. Tears dropping from her eyes did not later her shadow, yet she urged to express herself - emotions running into sorrow despite her wisdom, charm and beauty. No reason He could' nt see them through her. 

Alas ! for him beauty was' nt skin deep !!
She still awaited the best bid for her sculpted soul and sweetness