कुछ होश नही..

कुछ होश नही...कुछ ख्याल् नही...
मे तुम्हे याद कर भी करु...अब ऐसा अपना हाल नही...

तुम गयी क्यो... यु मुझे छोडकर...और सोचती हो...कि
तुमसे कुछ पूछू नही...और करु कुछ सवाल नही...

शाम हो गयी है और्...मेहफ़िल कोइ दूर दूर तक नही
खुद को मशरूफ़ कर सकु...अब ऐसा कोइ काम भी नही

लफ़्ज़ जो चल कर जुबान तक आ चुके है...
उनको किस से कहू...कि...सूझता कोइ बयान नही...

और रात कि देहलीज़ पर एक शमा रौसन कर पाऊ
मुझे इस बात की कोइ उम्मीद नहि..और कोइ इम्कान नही...


Kuch hosh nahi....

Kuch hosh nahi...kuch khayaal nahi...
mein tumhe yaad kar sakoon...ab aaisa hamara haal nahi

Tum gayi kyon mughe chor kar yu...aur sochti ho...ki
Tumse kuch poocho nahi...aur karu kuch sawaal nahi

Shaam ho gai hai aur...mefil koi door door tak nahi
khud ko mashroof kar saku...ab aaisa bhi koi kaam nahi

lafz jo chal kar jubaan tak aa chuke hai...
unko kis se kahoon...ki...soojhta koi bayaan nahi...

Aur raat ki dehleez par ek shamaa rausan kar paaoon
Mughe is baat ki koi umeed nahi..koi imkaan nahi... 

The Battle...

Context: Pulwama Attack

And those wise men will stay underground and will not come on TV, to debate at this moment as they know that they cannot defend themselves from the backlash. They will remain holed up in their little burrows until the matter subside and the sentiments die, the calmness prevails and the air becomes thin. They will wait till the funeral pyres turn cold and the soil above the grave settle some more. That will be the time when the bodies of soldiers will be burnt or buried. And there will be ash or bones mixed in the soil. The life will not be there nor will be flesh and blood. Their memory would have faded, the laughter would have forgotten. Their fragrance lost and their images blurred. That will be time when other priorities of our lives will get prioritized.

That will be time, they will come out, that will be time they will pop up from little holes from the underground, that will be the time they will drop their camouflage and covers, that will be time thay will relax their stance and posture. And that will be time they will hit you back. They will assault in their own ways, they will play the game they know very well. They will make some movies, some series or documentaries. They will take up effectively in their hands the twitter's handles. They will attack from the cover of digital world, the human rights blankets and virtual dream of freedom. The rule is simple to create some expressions in support of so called freedom of expression. They will organize those literature festivals, the poetry recitation sessions and the musical occasions, where there is no debate but an audience so consumed, ready to receive whatever thrown and assumed.

They will organize street plays in the universities. Some books will be written and some will be burnt, some articles will be published and others will be trolled. Some blogs will float some post will hold and all together the social media will be a bloat. Some marches will be organized and protests will be set. Some of the activist will try to crash some gates. Some awards will be returned and intolerance will trend. Some people will sing songs with candles in their hand.
The narrative they need is already set, what they want is to harden it more. This mass media has an aura which always endure, if it doesn’t make truth out of a fallacy, then it certainly it makes the fallacy a day dream. A day dream strong enough to be discussed more. They will be everywhere in books and streets, they will be everywhere in festivals full of musical beats. They will be everywhere in every drop of ink, they will be everywhere in the deceptive eyes which doesn’t blink. They will hijack the theater's dialogue, they will be riding on every monologue or prologue. They will be contrasting with every colors on canvas, they will be everywhere on screen and campus. They will run deep in every attractive visuals, they will settle in the minds of sapiosexuals

At that time our boys will be on the borders, safeguarding the mountains, the fields, and the glaciers. We may call them anything but that’s their frontiers. Yes those are our boys oblivious of the fact, a much more potent explosives are waiting for them, and that is not actually kept in a jeep called scorpion. What it seems like an ambush, is just one small reality, but much more are there everywhere deep inside our own territory. The enemy is just not across those line, there are some in our own design. They are scattered in the world called intellectual, in the thoughts of sensible, who claims to be responsible. They are all over in the talk shows hosted by learned & elite, they exist in the candle light marches of high profile socialite. They will be sipping coffee in the symposium of the universities. They will be organizing seminars by inviting some celebrities. These people will not attack you from the enemy lines, these people will not fire upon you with bombs and mines. They are pretentious champions of peace, so they won’t kill you by exploding in moment. Proving themselves as believers of humanity they will not shoot a bullets upon you. But from the comfort of their posh houses, from the safety of their books stuffed studies, from the coziness of their flashy studios, they will sting you like a scorpion. The sting will not let you dies, it will just enough to poison your mind. The poison which will be slow and subtle, the poison which will be like the drizzle, the poison which will be like the color of the sky. It will definitely not kill but will make you blind. The goal is to prison the brain and not the body. The purpose is the capture the imagination and objectivity. And they will not stop once you become one of them. They will persuade you to extend the the venom on to the generation yet to come.

Like you cannot counter an odour only with fragrance, so you cannot counter intelligentsia only with intelligence. The rules of engagement needs to be revised, a new kind of weapon has to be devised. Along with guns, our soldiers need canvas, along with armors, our soldiers need pen and paint brush. Along with physical endurance an our soldiers need intellectual pursuance. The battle is not only out at the ground, the battle has gone much beyond and everywhere to be found. This is not only the battle against an enemy who is instantly recognized. This is not a battle against those who are visible, not hidden or disguised.
This is a battle against enemy which is armed with evil ideas, this is a battle against an enemy trained in fabricating false narrative, this is a battle against an enemy experienced in forging fraudulent day dreams. They are capable enough to inject the pollutant into freshness of the curious minds. This is a battle against a devil and his design. The design to prove itself an angel, the design to get the capability for deception.  The battle is there, where the interest rest, imagination delights and curiosity thrives. The battle is there where the devil has a workshop. The battle is there, where devil hides. The battle is inside a person's mind, and that is where it needs to be hammered. This design has improved over the time, the devil is convincing and we are all blind. The devil has outsmarted us all to prove itself an angel. The story goes further for angels are proven devil. And if someone oppose he is proven not be civil. Lie deception and falsehood wrapped in charm of expressions are his weapons. And if nothing works then democracy is shown in danger. This is the battle of ideas, and an idea cannot be killed with a bullet. This is the battle of narrative which in turn influence the ballet.

 It takes an idea to defeat an idea. It takes a narrative to kill another one. It takes marketing to kill others campaign. It takes a literature to kill devil’s writing.It takes a popular expression to kill another popular one. In the end it takes all what the devil has up in his sleeves.
If angels can do that, then devil will leave, only to re-surge obviously and indeed. And dare you think that this battle will end. As this one was never a war which will. The devil return and you must sure. Even if you to keep this one low, by getting complacent or going slow. You can’t kill a devil in just one battle and you can’t kill the devil in thousand more battle, what is required is to beat him in every battle, keeping in mind our destiny is not the victory but the battle. It will go on forever till eternity, like every year we burn Ravan’s effigies  

I run...

I run from pleasure
         and I run from pain
In run from sunshine
         and I run from rain


I run from rise
       and I run from fall
I run from mortal
       and I run from soul


I run from disgust
  and I run from delight
I run from accord
  and I run from fight


I run from loss
  and I run from gain
I run from freedom
  and I run from chain


I run from gloom
  and I run from glow
I run from trickle
  and I run from flow


I run from silence
  and I run from noise
I run from restriction
  and I run from choice


I run from solitary
  and I run from rally
I run from mountain
  and I run from valley


I run from shores
  and I run from ocean
I run from frustration
  and I run from motivation


I run from open
  and I run from cage
I run from laughter
  and I run from rage


I run from vicinity
  and I run from afar
I run from perfection
  and I run from scar


I run from  wind
  and I run from shower
I run from thrones
  and I from flower


I run from demand
  and I run from prayer
I run from achievement
  and I run from failure


I run from liberty
  and I run from compulsion
I run from fancy
  and I run from repulsion


I run from devilish
  and I run from divine
I run from mundane
  and I run from sublime


I run from admires
  and I run from disdain
I run from release
  and I run from restrain


I run from surrender
  and I run from engagement
I run from chaos
  and I run from convenience


I run from detach
  and I run from cling
I run from everything
  and I run from nothing


I run from oblivious
  and I run from aware
I run from everywhere
  and I run from nowhere


I know nothing
  to what I run
I understand nothing
  from what I run


I think nothing
  why do I run
I do nothing
  but I just run 

Why can't they wait...

I was young

and I was bold

In the summer

or in bitter cold

Some were friends

but  some were foes

some were delighted

but some had woes

Some were strangers

untouched and unknown

some were there

to see me grow

They wanted me

to climb and to propel

fly into the sky

to prosper and excel

some always wished

for me to drop

for them, if I don’t fit

I must loose

If I do not fulfill

their scheme of design

if I do not relent

to their wish and conscience

they always wished

for me to fall

as if, I will not then,

they will fall

and I did fall

for my fate was bad

it turned me down

at a time which i never had

yes I did fall

when I was deceived

yes I did fall

when I failed to achieve

but it was a fall

and not the death

the life was there

lingering to a thread

the life was there

in my flesh and bone

yes life was there

in parts and in pain

like those vultures

desperate to devour

it doest matter

if I were one of their own

the moment was ripe

atleast they felt so

i can still remember

seeing their faces glow

when they flew down

with speed and glide

when they flew down

with great appetite

their beaks were sharp

hooked and strong

they tore away my flesh

with all their might

parting my meat

from my bone

it gave them cheer

and not the shiver

can't they see I was still alive

the body they scavenged

was not a corpse yet

but just gave up the fight

can't they wait

for my life to leave

can't they wait

for my soul to be free

can't they wait

for my skin to be cold

can't they wait

for I say to myself  “don’t hold”

can't they wait

for my heart beat to subside

can't they wait

for my pulse reside

can't they wait

for my hopes to sink

can't they wait

for my eyes cease to blinks

can't they wait

for my breath to stop

can't they wait

for my everything to drop

can't they wait

why can't they

just wait

Emotions of Unborns...!!

God when he was done, making the moon and a huge ball of fire
Creating earth became exhaustive for him and not a work of desire

His life since has been mundane, monotonous and all that boring 
Wondered our lord, why this earth isn’t becoming real & something 

Why not I take a break, why not I stop and laze
Why not I eat something, breathe something and have a gaze

Tired were his hands and face, with half closed but open eyes
God could see the setting sun, beneath the dusky western sky 

Other side in the east, the sky was yet not so dark, 
But it already got filled with giggles of the twinkling stars

All of them encouraging the moon, to rise and shine until the dawn
Apprehensive was the state of mind as it was a nervous new moon

Young was the moon as a crescent shining, balanced on both the edge
Like a boat tied at a river bank, floating in silence with all its grace

What if I tilt a bit this beautiful bright little but sharp crescent?
Was something God thought in those relaxed & clam moments

With no plan in mind and a reason why to get it done
Almighty tilted the moon’s crescent just for his own fun

Darkness which followed the dusk, made god go in deep sleep
Only to get up early next day to work as project earth wasn’t complete

Meanwhile the emotions from unborn, who were living on this new moon
Happily made it an abode, somehow for god this secret remained unknown

The tilt made all them shake, startled, jump, run and roll 
Slipping through the edge of moon, downwards in a free fall 

So it happened to emotions, when they fell from the moon 
They fell upon earth, kept beneath lying unfinished & unknown 

Those emotions from unborn when they met incomplete earth
They mixed, blended and gave it, shape color life and worth

Earth in those days didn’t had anything on surface or motions
It never became heavenly, until it caught those falling emotions 

Desire to give back, became the land, vast fertile clayey & plane, 
They fed and nourished forever, like a mother does to her children.

Hope decided to rise above and became mystic mountains, 
Perseverance filled them with snow forests fog trees and rain. 

The immovable peaks of determination always stood to their ground, 
Forging bravery glory courage spreading them all around. 

Love flowed everywhere and become meandering rivers, 
Skipping jumping falling & flooded, yet remained calm with compassion. 

Carrying nourishment in their flow and waves full of kind affection, 
Blessed the earth with prosperity and took away all the depression. 

Hatred & envy were cruel and always felt so hostile 
Every time they conspired and never made anyone smile 

Freedom made itself the breeze and winds of free will 
Blowing from corner to corner, bringing heat, fragrance & chill

Anger became volcano and started erupting all the fire,  
Shacked the earth burnt the jungle, all the hope and desire

Happiness decided not to stay but rose above the ground 
It went on to become those lovely black and white floating cloud. 

With them falling onto earth, it became complete so beautiful, 
Still there were more emotions on their way and yet to fulfill. 

When they realized for them, the earth do not have any room, 
They felt miserable, became dull, and looked so sad with all the gloom. 

So together they thought and thought and found one another way, 
All of them stretched their arm and held each other from getting away. 

Together they brought earth & moon into a sacred & heavenly bond
And made them with each other always so happy and ever so fond

शायद..!!

सूरज मद्धम हो चला था मगर, फिर भी उसे उसी तारीख में, एक बार फिर चमक जाने की चाहत थी शायद...

रात अभी भी ठीक से हुई नहीं थी फिर भी, कुछ तारो को जल्दबाजी मैं टिमटिमाने की चाहत थी शायद...

खुश्क आसमान मैं भी, उड़ते गुलाल से रंगों के बदल को, टूट टूट कर बरस जाने के चाहत थी शायद...

लाल क्षितिज़ के रोके जाने पर भी, कुछ दिलेर परिंदों को, रात भर उड़ते चले जाने की चाहत थी शायद...

हवा के दिल मैं आज सिर्फ, चुपचाप बहने के बजाए, कुछ नए तराने गुनगुनाने की चाहत थी शायद...

दुनिया उनके रंगों को देख न पाए तो क्या, फूलो को फिर भी अपनी खुशबू फ़ैलाने की चाहत थी शायद...

परिन्दे..!!

एक रोज़ ढलती शाम में
जब आँखें अपनी उठाई मैंने
दिखाई दिए कुछ परिन्दे मुझको
उस पिघलते आसमान में

साथ साथ में और लय मिलते
अलग अलग से आकर बनाते
कभी सीधी पंक्ति मैं उड़ते
तो कभी अटखेलियाँ भी करते

कभी कुछ दो एक पीछे रह जाते
तो कभी कुछ आगे भी निकल जाते
कभी कभी तो सब बिखर से जाते
लेकिन फिर सारे मिल भी जाते

पता नहीं कहाँ है जाना उनको
पता नहीं क्या है पाना उनको
पता नहीं वो कहा से हे आए
नीले आसमान मैं पंख फैलाए

कभी कही हवा के झोंकों के साथ
फिर कही उन्ही झोकों के खिलाफ
थी उनको अपनों से मिलने की आस
या फिर शायद दाना पानी की तलाश

एक रोज़ ढलती शाम में
जब आँखें अपनी उठाई मैंने
दिखाई दिए कुछ परिन्दे मुझको
उस पिघलते आसमान में

Please don't say, I don't love you....

Late night. The silence of the night was only breached by the ticking wall clock. There is dim lamp glowing. It looks that the lamp is trying to woo away the darkness with its mighty effort. But darkness is determined to stay in that room . Across this seemingly endless crisscrossing of darkness and light, a beautiful face is glowing. At least the glow of this cute face makes the scene a little bit enervating. But the face is crying. It is a sweet little girl trying to conceal all her pain under the cover of darkness. The music in the background is soft. She is just 5 years old with beautiful hair: long and black falling over her shoulders. It seems the hair itself is older to her.  Suddenly the door opens and a beam of light makes its way in. It illuminates her face as she lifts her face over the pillow. For the first time  her face is visible with all clarity. The eyes are swollen and the traces of dried away tears could be seen on her tender cheeks. A figure approaches her and she look into it with mixed emotions. It is her father approaching her to give her a warm embrace. But she rejects his hug.

Father: What is the matter with you baby. What happened, why are you crying my dear.( Worried)

Girl: I don't want to talk to you Papa. (Eyebrows bent; she frowns)

Father: Oh I see my baby is angry on me. Don't you think, I must know why my child is angry on me?

(Affectionately trying to hold her)

Girl: You don't love me Papa……you don't love me at all .

Father: And why does my   little princess think that her papa doesn't love her anymore?

Girl: You are the busiest papa in this world. I want to see your face as the first thing in the morning as I get up. But I never find you . You always leave early. At night I feel like sleeping in your arms, but you are always late with some meetings or some office work. I wanted to learn riding a bicycle from you, not by some other person, but I never find you. On Sundays also you don't sit with me when I tune into my favorite cartoon channels. I miss all the stories you told me once. I miss the warmth of your lap. Today at school all the students came with their parents. Only I was there without one. You will never realize how bad I felt. Everyone was asking me about you and I was clueless. I have realized that you don't have time for me. So I feel that You don't love me anymore.

Father:  I am really sorry for all the things. All your points are genuine but sweetheart please don't say I don't love you.

Girl: No you don't love me any more (and the girl breaks into tears).

Father: I still remember the day you were born. oh an angel came into my life . She was so beautiful that God himself blessed her with all goodness and Goddess graced her with all her Charm. I saw you held within the cozy arms of your mom. You were filled with infinite innocence. Those eyes were closed yet expressive. I felt if my angel is dreaming about the heaven from where she has come. That moment I promised myself that, I am going to make this world a heaven for her. I still remember those tiny hands and legs I touched. I can never explain what I felt when I kissed those tender cheeks. And when I took you in my arms for the first time, I felt like the luckiest man in this world. You were the greatest gift to me. I could see a baby with eyes like me , ears like me , Cheeks like me , lips like me , nose like me and it was well mixed with the essesance of your mother everywhere, just like the way she accompany me everywhere. Your presence endorsed and beautified my relationship with your mom. It gave a wonderful meaning to our marriage. You amplified our love for each other. You were not only my child, you were a blessing to me. The sweetest of all the possessions in my life. I saw you as my own projection to the future world. I saw you as my own reflection. I still look for my own eyes when I look into yours.  I hardly get time to see you playful. so as soon I get back from my office I straight away go to your room to make sure that my darling baby is safe and comfortable. When I see you sleeping in the earlyhours , I search for that infinite innocence and make my day.

Sweetheart you are my essence and you have been nourished by the most beloved women of my life. I love you the same way I love me, my mom and your mom

My blood is running in your body. You carry my genes . You reflect the face of my previous generation. You make me remember of my own parent. You are my grip to my future generation. You are associated to me in the same way I am associated with my own parent.

So please don't say that I don't love you .

The Night!!!

Deep into the horizon far away, I see the shimmering light

and wonder by closing my eyes ..is it the air or

just the flickering of my sight ?

may be may not be but, the view makes enticed

And as an email pops up on my monitor

everything goes back into the whirlpool of night

The Change....!

In a misty morning
Before the ray of the sun
with the climax of your dream
you open your eyes to see
nothing has changed

In a cloudy day
While running down the street
having school bag on your back
and you come back home to see
nothing has changed

In a rainy day
When you get drenched
on the top of a hill
and you come back home to see
nothing has changed

In a summer afternoon
while boiling with your own sweat
you burn barefooted
on a basking road
and you come back home to see
nothing has changed

In a drop dead dark
While you have no light
you find your way out
in the defth of the night
and you come back home to see
nothing has changed

And times comes when
you rise over himalayas
like the mighty monsoon
You shine over ocean
like the gorgeous moon

You dont care if
it is basking day
or a drop dead night
All you care to do
You come back home to see
every thing have changed.

When I saw this girl........!

A Journey to remember .......A memory to cherish….
Location: Bangalore (Majestic Bus Terminal)
Time: 2006 (Monsoons) 7:30 Evening

After waiting for almost half an hour, finally my bus Number 21c came towards the platform. The whole pile of humanity, which got accumulated on platform number 19a, rushed to grab a seat. I was lucky enough to grab one and luckier to capture another. It was not because I was strong. It was because I made my way through two fat guys. Thanks to my slim and trim stunning figure. As soon I got into the bus, I took a seat and kept my bag on another adjacent to it towards the window.

I waved to a girl who was standing with much difficulty in the crowd and gave her a friendly smile. I offered her a seat next to me. She was confused but she took the seat. Getting confused was not a priority for her I guess. After settling down she asked me.

She: Excuse me!!! Do I know you by any chance?

Me: Of course Not (with a poise)

She: Then why did you saved this seat for me?( She looked puzzled)

Me: Well ….ah……hmmm…..yesss … may be I don’t like to see some beautiful girl travelling in such crowded bus while standing uncomfortably….(Flirting smile…oh I am in expert in that)

She: (Shocked, surprised, confused but happy for the reason “she got a seat”, and for the better Reason “She was mentioned as beautiful”

She: Oh I see. But don’t expect thanks from me. I never asked for this seat….

Me: As you wish (Wow I love that attitude …)

And I started looking out of window as if I don't give it a damn if she is beside me well!!! Yes….. of course I was thinking about her..like a desperate high school lover.

After passing of a couple of kilometers. She got another battery of question for me.

She: By the way…where are you going?

Me: Rajarajeshwari Nagar. I guess this bus goes there only. I was trying to be over smart….

She: I know (Annoyingly) but it passes through a lot of places also.

Me: No answer (I was clean bowled….)

She: Where exactly in RR Nagar. (With a blink revealing her beautiful and shiny eyes.)

Me: Market Complex

She: Are you from RNSIT or JSS Engineering College….(She said in a fashion that she likes ppl for that college)

Me: Yes I am from RNSIT. ( How does she knows that? May be she is watching me going to college on my noisy Yamaha R100…..Bingo)

She: See I am totally confused by your act. Even though it is pleasant but I am not comfortable.

Me: (with a heavy heart) If you mind sitting beside me, you can very well leave the seat and the other rusty and dusty guy staring at you (and moreover on me) can take it.

She: See I am confused. I was right there in front of you at majestic and you never gave an eye to me. And now you save a seat from the whole crowd Just because I am beautiful. I don’t believe in your reasoning. Tell me why did you saved this seat for me?

Me: (to myself) Oh god…I am in serious trouble now. She don’t believe in the straight forward and true reason and now she want a reason so that she can brand me as ‘’Good Boy”.

Boy, I must tell you. Girls always try to find a reason if they happens to talk with you. I mean somehow they got to prove you a good boy so that you cannot take them for granted…….I never understood this strange behavior.

She: Hey I am asking you why you don’t answer my question. (Such that she is waking me up from deep thought)

Me: (Recovering). Ok that is because…… I saw you waiting for this bus for long time even before most of the people came for it. And you were unable to grab a seat when people madly rushed as soon as the bus arrived. People coming after you got a seat and you did not. I thought to give it a justice and saved it. (Well done Nishu!! That was a good shot)

She: Oh thanks a lot….by the way you noticed me ha? (Now she was being flirty)

Me: (to myself) I don’t want this ‘thanks’ tied with one of the most difficult question to answer.

If I say that” I noticed her” she may mistake me for a stalker and if I say “I did not” then she will think that I am a liar to tell her that she is beautiful. God I am gone

She: Hey

Me: Ya!!!! Well I don’t know (Girls love to see guys confused…in this case her love for confusion saved me)

She: Ok tell me your name

Me: (Oh god! What she is going to do with my name). Well I am Nish…….

She: Nish…Nish what….Nish….aaa, Nish…ant or Nish….uuuuuu..(Boy I tell you, She was superfast and supersmart to say that)

Me: Now you have three choices you can call me any one…..(Ha ha ha ha….Grabed the chance…..)

She: She smiled..(Oh l love those lethal smiles….they kill me instantly… ).

Me: By the way I am Nishant Officially and Nishu Lovingly.

She: O!!!! Good way to introduce yourself with a girl..

Me: Oh really thanks a lot.

She: But I must tell you you are missing something

Me: Missing something….and what exactly?

She: You didn’t ask for my Name…

Me: (to myself..who cares….)oh….well what is your good name miss…? ( I hope she is Miss…)

She: Hi I am Suhasini…..

Me: Luvly name Suhasini…..Perhaps luvlier then you…I smiled (and that was a genuine smile)

She: Oh thanks a lot…but was that a complement? (With frowning eyes…)

Me: Can you please tell me one thing? (Perhaps this was the first question I asked her…asking for her name was something she forced me to do.

She: Ya

Me: How did you figure out, that I am from any one of those two colleges?

She: It is simple..you are not a localite …….are you..? And that’s the reason for you to be someone from one of those colleges.

Me: Good …You are intelligent also….(with a pinch of sarcasm)

She frowned with a smile and I appreciated that by nodding my head.

By this time we were about the reach Utharahalli Bus stop.…….
to be cont......

Kaancha.....!!!

The smoke from my cigar made a way to the mist and the cool breeze made the mist to dilute. There was something which was not diluting....it was mesmerizing sound of the flute. Further I was driving....more the sound was flowing down to my heart through the ears....and next moment I was on the top of the hill. And there I saw him. Small but beautiful blue eyes.....fair complexion with pale shade....nose like a chewing gum with undefined shape. Short hair small height. He was just walking around and playing with the pure air of the hills. Kids down the plane can never feel the freshness which this little boy does. The memory is still fresh as those winds...I was then a trainee engineer for a hydel power project posted on the hills to the far eastern side of the country. Terrains still un-explored, air still fresh, hills still young, rain still soothing, people still welcoming.

"Khana khaisa amma....?" I asked the land lady and smiled. She happens to be one of the sweetest old women on this earth. I went inside the room. It was a cozy room. The roof was made of bamboo with husk on top of it. I could clearly see it was getting moistened in the morning mist. One of those dew drops made me to wake up and once again the first thing I could hear was those mesmerizing flute, it was so magnetic that it could teleport me to the other part of the universe instantly.

I drove my vintage 2nd world war willy to the top of the same hill and found that child again. He was sitting on the same stone overlooking the valley to the horizon at the other side. I felt as if he was waiting for an angel to come and caress him. I wanted to talk to him, but I could not, language divide stopped me to do so. I just kept my hand on his shoulder and offered him the chocolate which I got from Calcutta. Initially he was hesitant to accept it but when I looked into his eyes he took it with a grace.

Today he is coming to see me. I am so happy. A commanding officer of the gorkhas is coming to see me. May be the stars on his shoulder will not impress me the way his small blue eyes did to me. The olive green uniform may not make me feel that pale skin effect. For me he is still a young boy from the Far East. Untouched by any complication of this cruel world. His short & smart hair, a flute in his left hand could make me feel happier.