Its Never Too Late ...

The daybreak brings with it fear rather than a whiff of fresh air. It’s the uncertainty which looms in the corridors of the minds of people whether they will be back safe and sound. Unknowingly there is an unsaid adieu to the house n family which is not understood always. A blank look, a silent prayer fills our soul when we step out of the house as people fall prey to the unannounced blasts which rock the country time and again. They are nothing but innocent victims who are unearthed from their routine of things brutally. Some succumb to injuries and some are scarred for life. They are mere pawns to the ire of irked souls . Every citizen has a right to move freely in their country placating fright, trepidation n dread. Who has given any person the right to play with the lives of thousands of people? Being a victim of injustice does not mean that we render the same to others so as to glorify our angst. A child has the right to weave his canvass of dreams with the colors of brotherhood, togetherness and bonding. Blasts and the massacres lead to strife, distrust, chaos, anger and ill will. A sense of revenge makes inroads and the mind finds ways to punish people who are responsible for such condemning acts of violence. In a way the automated effect of revenge n the anger it generates finds new bearings. It’s like a legacy which corrupts the system as well as mankind. On the name of religion, justice and one’s rights, violence replaces peace. Lack of education and direction in life makes the individual choose a path which brings doom to the religion & family. Life has a lot to offer. The sensibility of choosing the right path gives success and recognition in the right light. No mother teaches her new born to kill so as to prove a point. No religion dictates to take lives to seek justice.

Why are we befooling ourselves when we can chalk a life of achievements, mutual respect and good will? Violence, bloodshed and revenge never give rich dividends. The road of righteousness may be replete with struggle but it’s worth it. As then the conscience will not prick for the innocent lives one takes to justify his act. Corruption, injustice can be eradicated if all of us work towards it as a whole. Religion should not be a weapon but a bridge. Peace and a carefree milieu is all one yearns for so why not discard the evil and violent thoughts and embrace non violence for a better tomorrow.

Depths of Love...

The nails of our hands and feet grow even though we chop them off and on. No matter how hard one tries, they will grow back. The sight is phenomenal. It’s an unsaid commitment which dies only when one walks on the last journey of life called death. The decay is in full swing but as long as one is alive, there is no stopping. Likewise, love interspersed with selfless care, giving and unconditional approach grows to dizzy heights when fuelled and nurtured with purity of thought and action. It weathers the storms of life n stands the tests of time. Adieus, distance and disruptions not only makes the heart grow fonder but gives unbridled depths which one cannot fathom or gauge ever. When the nail cut a little deep , by mistake or sheer carelessness or with an uncared approach, it sends shivers down the spine leaving a tinge of pain. Fights, resentments, misdemeanor, conflict, betrayal and agony leaves an indelible mark but true love sustains the hurt and pain, forgives & forgets thus bouncing back with a new verve and spunk to take it to a another level of commitment and trust. Tender loving care becomes the spice of life. The myriad shades of sibling , parental , romantic n platonic love never ceases n is bound with a very delicate yet a strong thread of togetherness, bonding and belonging. It is ready to embark on new journeys of life and the intricacies it has to offer with a never say die attitude. It flows unrestraint as if a bottle has been uncorked. The ebb of emotion is deep like the sea n undecipherable.

Why can’t we take lessons from nature which forgives and forgets. New life is enthused with new avenues so that the milestones could be set. Just like the nail, it is mystic, deep rooted and never leaves us. Love is not a need but completes us same as the nail gives the beautiful look to our hands.

Instinct & Habit ...

It’s a peculiar trait of all and sundry to stack all the new crisp notes in an orderly fashion, pushing the crumpled, ugly looking ones in the extreme front. It ‘s instinct, they say to get rid of the smelly, over used notes. The masses as well as the classes follow the ritual religiously. For once the elite n the poor are brothers in arms. It leaves a fetid smell in the wallet and gives a sick feeling too. The note loses its sheen. Its originality goes for a toss. The numbers are not readable. It’s not at all authentic any more and is scrutinized many a times when given to a vendor. The tattered effect leaves a frown on the visage and many a times people refuse to accept it. It’s rejected and adds to the agony of the owner. It carries some value hence it is kept so as to be used when the need arises. Every day it’s a top priority to discard it. Hopes are dashed when it returns back to the wallet. Nobody likes to mar the beauty of the new notes aligned with a dirty one .So then why is it that we nurture and harbor the dark hideous thoughts in our mind which maligns the soul? It makes us the universal prisoner of our vacant self, pushing ourselves in the vicious cycle of treason, ill will, jealousy, hatred and deceit. In the bid to be successful and be on the top, the grey shades come to light. The person sleeps on ethics, team spirit, camaraderie thus giving impetus to individuality and self glorification.

Nobody likes to be ruled by the spell of dark, dirty n ill thoughts. The beauty is replaced with anguish and discomfort. The essence of life looses meaning and unknowingly we tread on a path which is lonely and insipid. Its time , we push away such thoughts forever same as we discard the smelly, ugly note on instinct.