The Wish & The Battle Inside

Dear Team India, You know that cricket is celebrated like festival in India. It runs like blood in the veins of every Indian, be it rich or poor. No Wonder the anxiety and anticipation of India-Australia cricket quarterfinals on 24 th March 2011 overshadowed the death anniversary of Shahid Bhagat Singh that fell on 23 rd March, 2011 (his 80 th death anniversary). No one for once remembered, forget paying tribute, the young man who sacrificed his life at the age of 23 for independent India. The nation was enthralled with the anticipation of witnessing Sachin’s 100th century in international cricket and his 18000 run feast. Let’s not forget how many ‘havans’ and ‘special prayers’ were done for your victory against Australia in the quarterfinals. The martyrs of the past are now the part of history textbook but you the Indian Team are the current heroes of the Nation. We look up to you to give us something, a recognition of “sporty India”; a recognition apart from the “poor victims of...

No matter how worse it gets, You'll be there that's something I know... It's not because I'm too good, it's just because you are a wonderful YOU.

This month I'll finish my tenure with Teach For India as a volunteer. Soon the kids will have their exams and all that they were taught will be tested. My test still won't be over as I was not trying to teach them just maths or english, I was trying to motivate them to learn. The lesson I wanted to imbibe in their hearts was of hard work and honesty. They'll fail the day they feel that they can't do it and I'll fail if as a teacher I let them believe it. My footprints might be lost in the sand of time but one day I want them to rise and mark their footprints, become a good human being and serve their motherland. The rising digits in my salary bring me no solace, it's just a need but an hour spent in teaching these kids becomes my hour of serenity. Probably now will be the time for me to say goodbye to my kids... with a heavy heart I have to move on and find out a way through which I can reach out to other kids and give them the same lesson and move on and on a...

"..hope our paths cross again and the hearts stay true till then". Aren't those lovely words, a beautiful message from a stranger to me. I'll keep it real short. I hate when a close friend and I drift apart. We once used to talk for countless hours. Now we don't even have time for conversations. We have become the part of the rat race, things have changed. We’re going on our own separate ways and heading at different directions. If I’m lucky, maybe our paths will cross again one day, someday. Until then, be true to your heart and your dreams will come true. Until then, I hope you know I miss you. I promise you my friend I'll be me, be it now or then.

He sleeps in his bed tonight and remember those things which he never thought of doing but he did them. He was not born to follow rules and regulations, he was born to follow his dreams. The restlessness inside did not let him reach the silence within him. His words stood between silence and silence; and he listened quietly. It was his heart that showed him the way... all the way. His inside is his outside. He is not always right but he does what he feels is the best. With bleeding hands he tries to heal, unknowingly stains the white in red. He owns his words. He is writing to reach you but he might never reach you. You talk without speaking, you hear without listening and he keeps whispering in the sounds of silence. And he keeps whispering in the sounds of silence...