🤑...🔄...😖........................🐝

In this world of total chaos ..... where all are struggling for money, since birth till their last breath, a rich struggles for more rich and a poor struggles for a broad smile in exchange of money, no one cares about who they are using or misusing - it's all about possessions and that has a huge range. Most of us , including me.... our intentions are same, to share happiness, either with ourselves or pampering oneself. We forget our exhaustion....our sacrifices.....we enjoy the happiness.
         When was the last time we enjoyed a happiness which had nothing to do with money......????? If I had to buy happiness all the time, I'm sure in my entire life I would run short of ability and time to earn that money. I can't......even not for myself. If I speak honestly, I may sound rude and insane, but if precious gifts really mattered, no one will care about my pains being a mother - daughter - wife. Those were my gifts packed in nothing except untidy ugly watermarks ...... they had nothing to do with money......they had nothing to do with my today's confessions.
      Money is powerful, most powerful passion, intoxication...... it can buy many a things.....blood, humanity, love,God's may be.....a mother, a father, ......many things, but it can't compete with the power of pain..... Only pain is a thing that can move an entire universe, the entire life of a being, the Gods may be, it scares us, inspires us , teaches us ....... guides us...and remains as a shadow till our death.....infact it enhances the need for happiness, which is bought by money...thus , who is the ruler?????

Minor seasonal changes

Mid thirties ..... like a season of 🍁🍁🍃💮 autumn, sometimes its ☁ cloudy with doubts, sometimes over 🌒 shadowed with attitudes, sometimes heavy with a shattered ​💔 heart and sometimes you are too busy to sit and think🤔.
         After those struggling ages of
📖 study.... exam 📝 .... the race of life🚴🚵 suddenly takes a pause ⏸,  we keep aside our pages 📄🎖🏆 of credit - sadly we realize how little they mean now. In this phase of autumn, things change......as an effect or being affected we change.....a few pages turn, some pages we leave intentionally unnoticed and.... abruptly open a new chapter. It is like we are being haunted 👻 - finish fast ⏳ , there is lot more left to explore. It's 🍁🍂autumn dear! Whispering you- look closely 🔍 at you - this is you , 👔how much have you done, 🕵assess how much is still undone.... and your mirror zooms your grey 😵all the time..... freckles have touched ur youth....and then it haunts- what if Time plays a 🎲 negative role . Countless likes and too many followers 😎, all these attachments and possessions..... where will they stand without You?????
           It's getting too fast .....and a brake :  to remind that after the fall of autumn , new leaves 🌱 of life comes back. Yes it is the season of falls, but it restores  too ... ⚖ ... brings back a new life, reminds you to lay back , take a short ↩ reverse ,

🎵📸🎞☕📺🍭💅🏍🏄🏖🎡🚿🏀🎀 ,

look up 🤓 at your cloudy sky with your bright eyes  👁👁....and clouds 🌈 smile too.
            It's been a race to live this life since we existed .....it will be the same till the last date 📆. In between ..... came all the  seasons.

Judgemental story of love

Its a love story, a complicated telepathy among two split personalities, a chaos of emotions embroidered by a hopeless threads of feelings.

He: Who are you?
She: I am Mrs....
He: I know.
She: (Surprised) What??
He: (Smiles confidently) Yes, I know everything  about you.
She: (Disgusted) Then nothing to speak, why talk!
He: Still. Known and knowing... its there.( What he hid was - actually judging how much has she changed in all this space of time.)
She : (extremely  confused, specially either to believe or not, though everything that came out of conversations were nothing except absolute abyss - baseless, but the anxiety, its effect was so exciting that she went on listening, and never realised that she was getting habituated, a habit which changed her forever.... with the course of time she measured all depths, not a single corner was left unseen by him, he was like ploughing and sowing seeds of dependence, a dependence if she honestly accepts burns your ear..... unacceptable love. There was so much she wanted to know, but she adjusted herself and accepted the darkness... against all odds the only thing which could touch her was his silent cry. No two options work here, its fixed, she has her limitations... but human being...  they have a mind - a heart, these are uncontrollable, but she had to control it too, she had her reasons, it was sad that the source of all humanity begins from love, but when it comes it brings situations which demand nothing but sacrifices. ) How to manage it all?
He: I know what you are thinking and cooking in your mind!
She: Yes its been a while now, I know all your recipes, I don't cook anymore, I am getting fat day by day with your delicacies.
He: ( laughs) Its time to diet now.
She: I'm no fashion show piece, but yes if controlling hunger demands a few pounds of sacrifice, then why not,.....
He: (stops in the middle) Honestly  I want you to be healthy, live a proper life, you have a family. Lets cut it short.
She: (smiles) I know my limit, I will never let you feel guilty, it was you who asked my fingers but I with my full wish danced with you, I will be grateful, I had a twist in my life, full of entertainment. All ends are after all ENDs, but if I finish it gracefully, I will have no regrets.
He: You sound as usual.

Rest of it, was a story, a hazy one which was hard to explain, since the moral of the story was lost. Telepathies carry no record.  It was all recorded in their mind, unfortunately the injuries of the heart..... hopefully it will be healed only with tears and smiles.

Basically

For the next few minutes , I will be asking a few questions, which may sound boring, but actually I'm trying to ask myself , where & how am I ?

What is adjustment?
Is it fitting yourself to a position, or expecting that we can survive in the situation.
Honestly, are we expecting, how much?
What is compromise ?
Dealing or bargaining with your wishes. Almost same !
What is contradiction?
Does it complements certain contrast, or appreciates criticisms, a game of language.
What is playing a safe game?
Does it mean perfect measures or steps taken, or does it mean defending! If I'm defending , how much am I into the game?
What is the meaning of limit?
Does it mean an encaged space, or simply the edge . Then tell me what will be the limit of horizon?
Can we define distance as the immense mental gap of two minds?
Does toleration strengthen your ability to focus or does it strengthen your opponents?
If you say sacrifice is selfless act, then living a life will surely be - selfish act, isn't it!
Very thin thread of difference lies underneath, most of it becomes practically impossible, and rest ... maintain their immortality as questions.
If freedom is important, then why are our social opinions encaged behind bars?
If I'm being judgemental, why can't I accept my flaws?
Answers are with us, we are carrying a Buddha miniature among us, it's like a clear mirror, unfortunately the glass of the mirror is all stained. Why not clear it?

When cloud gets lighter .... it comes down, embraces the tall pine trees, the high ups and downs of the streets, plays peekaboo with visual appearance and disappearance...... the highroad went high and high , the end was smudged in fog....but the segment of the highroad which went downward was my road..... a few 200 downward loose steps and came a wooden house of two storeys. We stayed there . It was only 4'o clock in the afternoon, but the time was suffering from illusions , since it was a cloudy foggy day. I was amazed by every single sight....every single scenery ..... each and every piece of view is like a precious moment to share. By 6 o'clock it was night. I stood in front of a huge glass window and got lost among the twinkling little lights which were beaconing me from a distance .... suddenly  my father comes in and breaks the silence, he calls my mother and says her : come and have a look at the lights from the other side of the valley.
The smell of chicken curry diverted me to the kitchen , isolating my parents for a while with the window and its view. My younger brother was too young and nature meant too complicated for him, all which excited him was the chicken curry.
Next destination of memory located in Mall, Darjeeling's most popular centre. Too many photos, few funny moments, and my parents whispers which were all their. Me and my brother got a chance to torture a little horse, actually ride it, but my brother's sudden whim of a heroic figure, really made me nervous. Anyways , that episode was too short, I could feel my parents' nervousness too. We used to climb the sharp mountain roads, the downs were more enjoyable. Came across Gurap, a local flower named after rose, Hindi: Gulap. It was bigger than a rose , bloomed in bunches, and the smell of it was different, though lost in memories, but the bright colours are still fresh...pink, peach, red, orange. Only huge mountains shawled with stretches of clouds. It was summer in Bengal, Darjeeling was in both sun and rains, and rains here are very rustic - very moody, thankfully we carried umbrellas. The taste of fresh jelly candies, for the first time there, it was like heavens then. Indeed a piece of heaven in Bengal. Pine trees ....long haired dogs and cats, wrinkled skin people and eyes inside puffed cheeks, their smile of simplicity.... and as a child the most memorable one - the toy train trip to Ghum.
Every time and always returns are pathetic. I remembered crying quietly , and whispered to the lushful greens of the tea gardens : I will miss you.
The summer of 1992, captured in a few photo albums, our family aged and extended, even one passed , it's all a memory now. Hopefully I may go to Darjeeling , but 1992 will always be special, my first meeting with the mountains. 

Paddling

Every day passes by, pretending as if the hardest one in comparison to the previous one......and I say: oh how tiresome. Sunday may be a holiday, but for a woman, it's the day to finish the week's pending leftovers. Discussions - comprises and every inch of adjustments, tears and crumbles all your jotted down expectations right to the trash. The continuous salsa with the clock needles becomes so weird at times, one gets confused with the beats and the moves.... at one time it becomes a boring slow motion - repetition - irritation ..... all you want is a desperate escape to a tight satisfying sleep. But ....tempting expectations usually die young, our plans are murdered by our pre-plans ....works take control of us....we become mere puppets .
       But it's not full of moans and complaints, there is a feeble yet shiny part too. The density of the weakness dissolves when little kids jump around you and relish your presence as something long desired for....call you in excitement : teacher! That melts down all your stored fatigue and jets into your veins the fluid of instant energy. The faces of certain people and their casual words .... their funny expressions, the sudden disconnection in communication with others and the following jokes created...that transforms all your irritation to giggles. At times that one slice of smell from the baker's oven aside a road , makes you feel refreshed ....accumulates all your energy and I plan something special for dinner. Every single bloom from my terrace pots say to me : its your hard work. The afternoon is bright but its drought inside, and that spring of water from a watering pipe, suddenly touches you unexpectedly as a sudden surprise..... I can't deny ...it made me smile like I was waiting for it . Yes that sounds stupid... few seconds of  refreshments , i moved on and it faded away. As the end of a day draws to an end and the huge stock of uncleaned vessels on basin beacons you ... honestly I want to get vanished, but the hide and seek is very short termed, thanks to the foot tapping track whose lyrics are most of the time unnoticed yet a musical environment...... it whispers to me : are you really tired, it's time to salsa! Next morning.... it repeats , the cycle of regeneration and transformation .

One sunset....too many lessons.

I sat there, kept sitting , aside a small service road, on the cemented bed . People passed by me, some walking and sweating, some enjoying the gentle breeze, and rest speeding on a vehicle. Though my focus was somewhere else, but still when you are sitting aside a service road you have to tilt your mind and eyes towards the world in motion around you. So many things knocked my mind. I saw kids walking along with their parents and a couple of grandparents with their very new possessions on their lap and on prams too. A sharpness of contrast ....  age , vision, version of tongue and walking speed. Three young girls, probably in their teens, smiling and laughing .... curbing their excitement, whispering silently topics of intense curiosity which has already stirred their peace.... what a sharp contrast , they are trying their best to be restraint. A couple of old ladies noisily chatting passed by , whatever I could hear was "blood pressure" or "blood sugar" maybe, years run and teens mature, subjects change dramatically. Huge contrast. On the opposite side of the road stood a young couple , who entered the plot recently, became the centre of discussion for a group of old retired uncles sitting on a bench right behind me. It started with light jokes, but suddenly the short heighted uncle rumbled a few striking comments, and rest of them realised that they too have gained wrinkles and no more on that horizon, all of them in a chorus started criticising the generation and their outlook. Actually .... what i felt... maybe they realised the sad truth of age and felt it's better they criticize, because ignoring them will be difficult, accepting will be more difficult, at this age criticising is easy. In fact my insecurities rose, presuming their assumptions about me. I smiled to myself , "now I'm trapped in an atmosphere of complete confusion kindled by contrast and fired by assumptions". Thankfully a group of sharp voices engulfed my mind, and I shifted towards the nearby field on the opposite side of the road.... a group of boys and their cry for a wicket hit my ear .... enjoying their sweating last overs right before they return home. ........Not necessarily I will say " what a sharp contrast " every time. I recalled my childhood , my brother ......he used to play in afternoons and voices were very much alike ..... memories came back, a rush of breeze touched my face. I shifted back to myself, focused on the changing colours, light yellow smudged to orange, orange  embraced red and gradually came pink, pink darkened to crimson ..... and sun seemed extremely tired, it's gestures of yawn and stretching arms..... I wished him goodnite, realised purple has already conquered the stage. I stood up, was about to leave...looked up in the sky , a flock of cranes have decided to fly high and long..... just like me, our homes are far, again a similarity. All the way I kept thinking about changes in life, similarities, and about contrasts. Either they are the phases or they enhance us, matter is same anyways.

Peep through a pin hole

Have seen lushful green highlands , bare tall mountains seasoned with green  grass - moss , and crossing clouds , sailing high and low , all grey but in drizzling mood. If you are lucky enough you can meet the rainbow on a bright day, though sun rests underneath the grey puffs. Somewhere across Lonavala there
comes a waterfall, and most of the times you are left with the suppressed echo of falling waters....too many photocentrics roam around enjoying seasoned corn . But beyond all yahoos of selfies and noisy crowd , the echoes creep into your mind and say : stop wasting your time, wander around, there is so much more to explore. For a regular day rains are nothing  but raincoats - mud - umbrella - sneezes and if very fortunate it ranges to snack delicacies...but when roads call you the entire definition changes, dimensions get a complete different angle. Suddenly the inborn photographer within you demands an exposure and eyes become hungry for natural bites of scenery. Suddenly rains become your inspiration and the jewellery of these rude rough lifeless bare highlands.

Clash

Everyday my fingers fight out of an unconscious battle between my auricular and reflex actions , and reach out to touch and slide away the most important irritating tune . Though I tried the most selected ones but still all wake up tunes sound same - Disgusting. Sometimes snoozing for that extra piece of sleep , sometimes looking blankly to darkness - perhaps lost clues of the last dream and most of the times got asleep trying to self motivate . Have to get up , but your ugly bed looks the most sexiest thing then , and that one last hug ...... only sufferer is aware of the speed required to match the patch with wristwatch. Same clash everyday. Though we run through many mental , sentimental , personal clash everyday, but this is the sweetest bitterest unavoidable clash ...which we overcome , and still utter : Why?