What are words worth when mere touch can mean so much!

Prez Kalam carries on....

APJ Kalam stepped down from the post of president yesterday and carried with him the goodwill of his countrymen.
One incident that gives an insight into his great soul goes thus-In 2003,his relatives visited him for a week.Throughout their stay,not even one government vehicle was deployed to them.All expenses of food and accomodation at the Rashtrapati Bhavan were borne by him personally,which amounted to Rs 350,000.That was his seven months salary(the prez gets Rs 50,000 per month).Staggering....inspiring.
But,our "elected" ministers could not stand his uprightness and so sought to have him vacate Raisina Hill.In comes Pratibha Patil,a woman with cases pending against her,to take over the mantle of presidentship.
In a country with a puppet prime minister ,we now have a puppet president.
While Mrs Patil may be the "political" president,Mr Kalam will continue to be the "peoples" president.

To start or not to start

The very topic on which I am writing this blog is causing me trouble-where to start?.Now that I have done so on a convenient excuse let me delve deeper into this subject that struck me today.
We all set goals for ourselves and with people like me the goals are often many,varied and sometimes unrealistic.Diverse as they may be,they all pose one common problem-the will to start.The route is all charted out..I gotta lose five kilos this week..do three chapters today...take time out to call a friend..blah blah.You are all geared up-you have it all planned out.When the time comes to actually put in gear your plans,that devil which was till now a spectator takes control and says-Uh..not now..tomorrow should just be fine.The tomorrow follows the day after ..and so on.
End result-crash landing.
It is isnt just materialistic goals.Even things like saying you love someone-your mom,dad,bro,sis(gf's arent usually a problem) dont strike.You know you love them and they do too..but saying it..difficult.
What sets apart people who achieve their goals and the ones who dont is almost always that first step.
Procrastination-the one hurdle we see yet ignore-to our own peril

Not really so!

This one I'd written three years ago, in a moment of cynicism..

It is what you do and me myself
To count the wrongs and not the rights
To feel the pain and not the joy
To say "I love you" but not really so
Tis wrong and needs to change
Days pass by and it is all the same
Coz it really is you dont wanna change

You dont see love even when it is given
Mistakes by others are seldom forgiven
But,when it came to you
Wasnt it you who said-
Let it be forgotten as I am only human

Rules are twisted and laws amended
You are right no matter what
Others are ordinary so let them be damned
It's always "I me myself"
Kindness and gratitude are not known to thyself

It is when they leave you
That friends bcome important
Expressing your love you'll never do
You are grown up now and it is kiddish to
But,when they go by
Nostalgia creeps over and regret takes over
You feel weak and see deep inside
A lonely and soul-less soul

Fading into twilight

..just random thoughts crossing my mind..thought I'd pen them down


You fight the tears but not your fears
The past hurts,the future you dont want to see
Just trust me once this time
Aye there,just find out
What it is like to...
Let go of the strings that bind
And walks the fields free
To love like you really should
You can't go on like this
Now.... or forever
You thought I'd never know
Smiled when you cried inside
I saw it all and hurt just so
Coz you were letting go..

The Kashmir issue has become a routine affair for the Indian household-we see it all the time-in the papers,the news,magazines...and yet we are immune to it.Our troops sacrifice their lives and civilians are killed.This is appalling but what is even more so is our indifference to it.
I do not intend this blog to be a sermon on patriotism but to narrate my chance meeting with a kid I met once.A kid who saw his father,mother and two sisters murdered by militants right in front of his eyes.His entire family wiped out in a matter of few minutes.All this at a tender age of eight.Four years later he stands before me narrating the horror without shedding a tear.Life has made him tough.But,it comes back to him in his dreams..he wakes up..terrified..frightened..shrouded in darkness..yearning for the warmth of his mother's arms.He sweats all over waiting for the night to end hoping when he wakes up in the morning that somehow ..somehow he can be with his parents again.
He now lives an orphanage with kids like him..victims of terrorism. Others have resorted to drugs to soothe their wounds..but not he.He wants to lead a respectable life..make his parents proud.He has no one to guide him..only his sense of righteousness.I feel humbled when I listen to him.
I realise that even from tragedies such as his..rise stories of courage and grit.Stories that may not make it to the front pages but continue to thrive in their own quiet yet magical way.

Our life and orkut

Orkut and similar sites have changed the way we keep in touch with people.When I started using it..it was a novelty.I came in touch with all my friends with just a click of the mouse.We rejoiced in getting in touch ,spoke(rather scrapped) about what we had done in all these years and about the days gone by.Then..what?..after the initial amazement had died down..the long and detailed scraps gave way to the routine ones-"Hi".."wassup"..the lot.While I resented doing this myself...I had to give in..coz how am I supposed to reply.
What was it like before these portals came about..I remember telling one of my friends who was going to Delhi to get one of my classmate's no..and the joy I felt when we spoke after such a long time..but what if we had gotten in touch through orkut..just a few scraps..no emotions..nothing.Or the joy of receiving a letter.We have a box for letters kept in our hostel.I glance through it hoping there is a letter for me ,be it from dad or friends...and I feel so close to the person when I read it..and why not..someone's spent time writing it to me..can that personal touch be replaced?
But,some things cannot be ignored..it's a trend and it is futile to rebel against it...but with the few people who are really close to you,let such means not be the medium of expression-be it of joy or sadness!