Funny games of life...

Life plays funny games with you... You always want to have the things you like and life gives you everything but what you like and when you start getting accustomed to it and learns to live with what you have, the extinction begins...

Extinction of likes, extinction of possessions, extinction of dreams... you see everything around you, have everything around you, yet you struggle to even touch it once, feel it once, let apart possessing it. And this time the rebel comes out, in hope that this will again change and something else will start like the extinction started... the rebel just cries... Everyone is around you, everything is around you... yet nothing is for you, everyone see you from thier own perspective and then you realize... the extinction that started was of you... only you...

And this goes... the inside turmoil, the clashes of self respect, self image and the existence is slowly, silently contributing to the extinction... churning the soul to hell...

You have everything around you, music, colors, flowers, near and dear ones but nothing is for you...
The burning hell, the turmoil shows that you are the only culprit, only responsible for all this... you are already at the verge of extinction while neither you are source of it nor the end...

And the effect of this tempest, the blizzard is that you are pulling yourself apart wishing to get a new you from inside... burning yourself and wishing to get a new you... wishing to have a new life like a Phoenix... but Phoenix seems a myth and this fire doesn't burns you to dust...

Its just the feeling that keeps you apart... apart from everything, what you want, what you like, what you wish, what you dream and what you are... and burns you inside...
Your soul fighting for the freedom, the breath and the life...

And the rebel just cries... waiting for...

Extinction or Phoenix's second life...

चलो कुछ पुराने दोस्तों के दरवाज़े खटखटाते हैं ...

चलो कुछ पुराने दोस्तों के
दरवाज़े खटखटाते हैं ...
देखते हैं उनके पँख थक चुके हैं.…
या अभी भी फड़फड़ाते हैं

वो बेतकल्लुफ़ होकर
किचेन में कॉफ़ी मग लिए बतियाते हैं ....
या ड्राइंग रूम में बैठा कर
टेबल पर नाश्ता सजाते हैं
हँसते हैं खिलखिलाकर
या होंठ बंद कर मुस्कुराते हैं
वो बता देतें हैं सारी आपबीती
या सिर्फ सक्सेस स्टोरी सुनाते हैं
हमारा चेहरा देख
वो अपनेपन से मुस्कुराते हैं ..
या घड़ी की और देखकर
हमें जाने का वक़्त बताते हैं
चलो कुछ पुराने दोस्तों के
दरवाज़े खटखटाते हैं ...
देखते हैं उनके पँख थक चुके हैं.…
या अभी भी फड़फड़ाते हैं

Thats my life... (Episode 1 - Pre-teens)

I am ... "someone"... a wimpy kid from childhood... always demanding, as I used to see my self till few years back. But now, life is all changed, but lets start from the start.

I remember being a kid who wanted to gel with neighbor kids, wanted to play with them the games they play. But few wise men and my parents saying the games they play are not good. "NOT GOOD", for what, and the answer came as "for your character, for your reputation and your health". Good and I some what agreed, but never understood the concept of playing "Gilli Danda or Kanche" (a local game popular with sub-urbs or rural areas of north India), can have negative impact on one's character. Character a very big question, now, but back then, what was character? I understood by character as Nagraj or Super Commando Dhruv or Billu - Pinki (Famous comic CHARACTERS of late 80s and through 90s). Yes, I learnt English at that age and knew the meaning of "character" as a character in a story.

My question is still unanswered. What the impact of this game on my character? How is it different from playing cricket or hockey?

I remember an incident when I fought with my father for getting me a bigger gun, where as every one in my so called friend circle had smaller ones. My father was
explaining me that my gun is far more expensive and better then other's, but I had my own reasons and seems valid to me, even today. I told that I want smaller one so I can play with them without any difference. Also there guns being smaller, throws the balls far then my gun does (Yes, that was a plastic gun with used to throw plastic balls on pressing the trigger). And every one was making fun of me and my gun, being not able to through the balls as far as their guns can do. And all those seems so mature to me saying, "Your gun costs above 50 Rs and we got it for only 15 Rs and still we are better then you." Were they being mature, or were just sarcastic fools? Still searching the answer...!!!


No problem... life moves on and another year passed... I jumped into class 6th and then comes the Science as an interesting subject...

My father bought me another gun (I loved guns since childhood, but guns were not the toys I had, I had other too many as well and more to come). This gun was a branded gun and used to through the spark with some friction sound. I was amazed at it but still curious as how these sparks are being generated. I tried asking to my elders, my uncles, elder cousins or few neighbor young boys, but none could satisfy me. I tried asking my father when he came back from office, but he told me to play and not to try opening the gun.

IDEA!!! I can open the gun and see myself.

Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!! I can open and see by myself, and I did. I got my answer, the technology was so simple but when my father found me with disassembled gun parts, he was so furious that he did not even scolded me but just a single sentence from him and I was scared to death. He said, "No more toys for you from now onwards."

Naah... he is best dad and I knew I'll be getting new toys to play with, soon. And, yes, I fixed the gun with a new pencil lead to generate more sparks. Only if you know the age old technology.

Time passed, I got many more new toys but same old bunch of friends to play with who always seems to be getting on my nerves because always it were my toys, kits or jugaads (Indians would definitely know what it is) to play with, but I was always cornered out and they all seems to be enjoying among them selves.

We all used to play cricket in our street and though every one was playing individually, I always seems to be in a team of single player and all others in another team, playing against me. No one catches the ball of others and even if by mistake, it lands in to some ones hand, it will slip out. I knew that he left it and not slipped, but just because they were all in single team and if some one catches the ball hit by me, even if it came touching the ground, I am bold (out or in this case catch out as we call it) and I cant oppose because every one is supporting each other and all seems against me. And I threatens to take my bat and ball away, no effect on them. They used to play with the bat made up of some wooden plank (Taqhta). And seems happy. I used to watch them from window and some time cry a lot with my mother complaining all these. She will console me and done, I am happy again.

I'd say now, Welcome to teen age. And I am enjoying the life... "Jo hai, jaisa hai... accha hai... maje hain life mei..."

To be continued...