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Hi Friends,
22nd Feb is my Birthday… Yes!! this day I was brought to this world by my parents and thats the reason I believe I should celebrate and spend my B”day with them and other family members…. which I always do. I know some of you will agree and some of you will not….
This is My first post of this month and hopefully not the last one…
Here are some line I have penned down, as I usually do when my heart runs high on emotions…..
Aap ki yaad khub yaad dilati hai…
Aap ki yaad khub yaad dilaati hai…
Har baar ashk pe aansoon,
Dil pe dard chod jaati hai….
Bewas… lachaar… majboor…
Jaise sabdon ne aap ko ghere rakha hai…
Ab unka shikar hum bhi hain….
Na pura kar pata hoon,
Aap ki khwaishon ko….
Sharm se jhuka leta hoon,
Aapni nam aankhon ko…..
Aap ki yaad khub yaad dilaati hai…
Har baar ashk pe aansoon,
Dil pe dard chod jaati hai….
Jab bhi sahare ki jaroorat thi,
Aapka haath tham liya….
Kismat ki kuch aur hi jaroorat thi,
Jo dussri raah pe laake khada kar diya…
Pyaar mein aapki koi kaami na rahi,
Phir bhi kaanton ka taj aapko pehna diya….
Maana tarika alag thaa hamaara par pyaar hai wahi,
Humne bhi aapse be-inteha pyaar kiya…
Aap ki yaad khub yaad dilaati hai…
Har baar ashk pe aansoon,
Dil pe dard chod jaati hai….
Na bhoolta kabhi…
Na bool-sakta hoon kabhi…
Aapke dil ke dard ko…aap ki andekhi ashkon ko…
mitaakar dum lunga ek din…
Waqt ki jaroorat hai…
Kambakht waqt sath chalta nahi….
Aap ki yaad khub yaad dilaati hai…
Har baar ashk pe aansoon,
Dil pe dard chod jaati hai….
……Mahen
I would thank God Time my wife…. my Love and all you friends are there with me to to share….
THANKS TO ALL………..
What? - Love, Marriage
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It
was quarter to one at night when I hit the door bell. My wife opened the door. She had been awake as usual. Waiting for me had become a daily routine for her. Unlike I expected, the house looked normal. I put my laptop on the recliner and went straight into my bedroom, freshened up and got busy with the book - “An autobiography of a yogi.”
My wife came in with a piece of cake in her hand. “We waited for you till 9. But it was getting late and your parents pushed to carry on and finish”, she said handing over that cake to me. Something stung me deeply for it was my daughter”s first birthday. I had almost forgotten that I had a daughter and a feeling of guilt told me that I did not deserve that piece of cake; it felt heavy when the first bite went down my throat.
“Karthik,” she used to call me by name, “look at me”, she said. I turned my gaze away from the book onto her face. I saw tears in her eyes. “Have I, in the last two years, ever asked you why you come home late every day? Have I ever asked you to take me out with you, even to the temple that you go alone every weekend? Have I ever told
you how it feels to attend family functions without you?” I turned back to the book. “Karthik, please look at me, will you? I need an answer today.”
I always knew that I would have to face this sometime. “No, you wouldn”t understand even if I tell”, I replied. “Really? What is it? Please tell me. I know that you agreed to our marriage only because you did not want to disappoint your parents. I know that I”m your wife only for the sake of it. But why should Gaargi suffer because of all this? Doesn”t she deserve to be called your daughter? What is her fault?” my wife asked with tears running down. She had never cried in front of me. I looked at my one year old daughter; Gaargi was special to me, for her name reminded me of a very special person in my life.
“Srishti, I am really very sorry. I don”t know how to tell all this and I”m not sure how you”ll take it. You are not my first love. I had never liked any girl in my life until I met a very nice person who, I decided, would not only be my first love but also the only love in my entire life”, my eyes started to fill up, “I can never imagine my life without ” “Your mother told me. I know everything but I wanted you to tell”, she interrupted. I wasn”t surprised; two years is a very long time for a secret to be kept in a family. It looked like
she wanted me to somehow raise this and then she started.
“Karthik, have I ever made you feel that I had been betrayed by someone who I thought would be the only person in my life?” Her question confused me for a moment, “Is she talking about me?” I asked myself. “He, not you, was the first man in my life and I too had dreamt that he will be the only one ever. But our relationship collapsed after 5 months of our engagement when I came to know that he was already married. My parents were more than broken when they found this out, for they were the ones who had found this person through some marriage bureau. I went into depression and had attempted suicide twice, but somehow survived. See, even God does not want me. So I decided to live on as life takes me, although I knew that I will not be able to forget
any bit of it.”
It took some time for all this to sink in. I was perplexed.
“Karthik, I know that you too had given all the love of your life to her. I also know that she never reciprocated your love and that she was never ready to accept you as her man even though you were ready to sacrifice yourself for her. But don”t you think it should always flow both ways? Don”t you think that it is not worth crying over someone who cannot feel your love? Is it fair on your part to ignore someone who is craving for your love and actually deserves it? Look into my eyes. Don”t you see anything which suggests that I deserve to be loved by you? I know Karthik, I know that there”s some space in your heart that has been made for me. I can see it in your eyes too. When I look into them I do not feel sad that there”s a lot of pain in it. Instead I see that part of it which tells me that I”m not completely unwanted. So I ask you the same thing that you had asked her, “Please give me a chance”. Don”t tell me that you cannot love me even a little. I know you do and Gaargi is the proof.”
I could not speak more. Srishti too could not. She rested her head on my shoulder. For the first time I kissed on her forehead.
I guess that is what one has to learn. First love is very special. It is something to be remembered for a lifetime but not something for which an entire life can be wasted in grieving over it.
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-MahNavi..
Hi Friends,
Eid Mubarak To all of you….
God Bless all.. ENJOY one the Biggest Festival Of India…..
-MahNavi..
Note: Please, Read my todays post “From My Collection…V”
The Perfect Kill
It was late in the evening when I entered Howrah Station .It was
teeming with office workers returning home after a typically tiring
day at work. I didn”t look forward to the prospect of returning home
to my husband. The love between us had died years ago. Our marriage
had been transformed into a dead corpse buried deep beneath a pile
of painful memories. The bits and pieces of pleasure I derived from
my daily existence were my only source of sustenance. My husband had
accused me of being mentally deranged.
But only I know better. He should have thought of a better reason
than that to get rid of me.
I hauled my self into a train standing nearby. Finding a seat lying
vacant I gleefully slid into it. After having exhausted myself at
work securing a place to ease my legs was a welcome relief. The
scene inside the train was disquieting. The train being the last one
on that particular route, it wasn”t long before the compartment was
bursting to the full with people. They jostled and fought with each
other in a desperate attempt to keep from falling off.
June is the hottest month in Kolkata; it”s when the when the summers
are at the peak of their torment. The sweltering heat conspired with
the intolerable humidity to beat the lives out of the commuters. The
stench from the garbage rotting on the rail tracks combined with the
nauseating smell of human sweat to pervade the whole atmosphere. I
felt like vomiting. I subconsciously swallowed the spittle that
formed in my throat. In despair, I stared up at the ceiling for
comfort. A solitary fan hung up there in a state of eternal rest,
hideously shrouded in spider webs. I closed my eyes in a bid to rest
my mind. Slowly I allowed myself to fall into a labored slumber.
When I awoke the train had traveled far into the countryside. The
seat next to mine was occupied by a pretty nymphet. She had a
concerned look on her face. The object of her anxiety was seated
right opposite to us. He was the most loathsome, horrid specimen of
mankind I had ever seen. He evidently appeared to be a village goon
of some reputation. His bloodshot eyes were planted firmly on the
girl. She squirmed uncomfortably in her seat under his leering
looks. The redness of his eyes was indicative of the fact that he
had soaked himself in liquor far exceeding socially acceptable
limits.
The girl”s nervousness was infectious. I looked around the
compartment. It was completely vacant except for the three of us. I
began to grow uneasy. The girl pressed my hand and held up a piece
of newspaper for my inspection. She pointed towards a front-page
news report. It was on a sensational serial killer who had been
haunting Kolkatans for the past couple of weeks. Six young girls had
been murdered in different parts of the city. They were discovered
with their throats brutally slit open. The killings had been
executed with such meticulous efficiency that the murder scenes were
totally devoid of any clues. The police were baffled. The report
went on to draw parallels with the legendary “Stoneman” who had
terrorized Calcutta in early the 90″s and whose identity was yet to
be ascertained. The report was undeniably scary and chilling to the
bone.
The girl had visibly paled. She motioned with her eyes indicating to
me that she considered the man sitting opposite to be a prime
suspect. The girl was badly scared and I must admit I was pretty
worried myself. Suddenly the train slowed as it approached an
oncoming station. I was contemplating the feasibility of getting off
the train, well before my intended destination, when the man himself
stood up. To my utter surprise and immense joy he hopped off the
train as it came to a screeching halt. The girl looked at me and
both of us let out a huge sigh of relief. The tension having been
released, she began to giggle. I caught up with her silly laughter
and soon both of us were laughing away in abandon.
With a rude jerk the train started moving. Soon it was speeding
across vast open countryside at a furious pace. Her jangled nerves
having been calmed, the girl had begun to doze in her seat. As I
looked at her I wondered just how naïve and unsuspecting young girls
can be. I slipped my hand inside my handbag and firmly gripped the
kitchen knife I always carried. I felt a strange numbness in my
fingers but it had to be done. Besides she had an exceedingly
beautiful neck. Such a pity!
-Denis R. Soreng
Gabbar And Samba In Serious Conversation…..
Gabbar : Kitne admi they?
Sambha : Sardar 2
Gabbar : Mujhe ginti nahin aati, 2 kitne hote hain?
Samba : Sardar 2, 1 ke baad aata hai
Gabbar : Aur 2 ke pehle?
Samba : 2 k pehle 1 aata hai.
Gabbar : To beech mein kaun ata hai?
Samba : Beech mein koi nahi aata
Gabbar : To phir dono ek saath kyun nahin aate?
Samba : 1 k baad hi 2 AA sakta hai, kyun ki 2, 1 se bada hai.
Gabar : 2, 1 se kitna bada hai?
Samba : 2, 1 se 1 bada hai.
Gabbar : Agar 2, 1 se 1 bada hai to 1, 1 se kitna bada hai?
Samnba : Sardar Maine aapka namak khaya hai, mujhe goli maar do.
From My Collection…!!!
A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards
sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said
“I don”t think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have
something to eat.”
“Is the man of the house home?”, they asked.
“No”, she replied. “He”s out.”
Then we cannot come in”, they replied.
In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened.
“Go tell them I am home and invite them in!”
The woman went out and invited the men in”
” We do not go into a House together,” they replied.
“Why is that?” she asked.
One
of the old men explained: “His name is Wealth,” he said pointing to one
of his friends, and said pointing to another one, “He is Success, and I
am Love.” Then he added, “Now go in and discuss with your husband which
one of us you want in your home.”
The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. “How nice!!”, he said. “Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth.
Let him come and fill our home with wealth!”
His wife disagreed. “My dear, why don”t we invite Success?”
Their daughter was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped
in with her own suggestion: “Would it not be better to invite Love? Our
home will then be filled with love!”
“Let us heed our daughter”s advice,” said the husband to his wife.
“Go out and invite Love to be our guest .”
The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, “Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest.”
Love
got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up
and followed him. Surprised, t he lady asked Wealth and Success:
“I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?”
The old men
replied together: “If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two
of us would”ve stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He
goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and
Success !!!!!!”
Have a wonderful day
Hi Friends,
Thanks to all of you for all the wishes you have been showering on me for being on rediff iLAND.I am really lucky to be blessed with so many good friends around me and I would not have come so long without your support, encouragement, appreciation, advice, love n affection…..
From the bottom of my heart THANKS to all my friends who are always with me since I kept my first foot in iLAND. My wife (Navi) who is new to iland actually does not know about blogging and what it takes to be on rediff home page, she could only realise whats on being in Home page, is only by going through all the wishes you have sent me in My GB, Blog, Mail and Mobile…
It would not have been possible without good friends like you, and…..
“I DEDICATE ALL THIS LIME-LIGHT FOR BEING ON HOME PAGE TO ALL MY FRIENDS……..”
I also Thanks to my friends who have been recently added in my friends list for extending there friendship and wish them Happy Blogging…
Regards,
Mahen and Navi.
(Mahnavi)
I can”t hear you !!
Charlie was responsible for taking up the offerings at a local church.
One Sunday, after the service, the priest counted the money and found
there was less than anticipated, given the size of the congregation. He
took Charlie aside and questioned him.
Charlie said that he did not take any of the offerings.
The priest questioned him again and again and Charlie continued to
insist that he did not take any of the offerings. So, the priest told
Charlie to get into the confessional, which he did.
The priest then asked him again, “Charlie, did you take any of the offering?” This time, Charlie replied, “I can”t hear you.”
The priest asked Charlie the same question several times and Charlie would always reply, “I can”t hear you.”
Finally, the priest yelled, “CHARLIE, DID YOU TAKE ANY OF THE OFFERING?”
Again, the reply was, “I can”t hear you.”
The
priest was now beginning to get angry, so he came out of the
confessional and said to Charlie, “Trade places with me and you can ask
me a question.”
So, they traded places and Charlie asked, “Is it true that you and my wife are having an affair?”
To which the priest replied, “By golly, you're right, you can”t hear in here!”
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