Terrorists should be out-casted

Terrorists should be out-casted

For Indians, terrorists are Pakistanis or so to say, Pakistanis are terrorists. We see them as Muslims, they are known by their religion. The issue is not only for a Muslim terrorist. Terrorists are debasing the religion with such activities and defaming the whole community.

Terrorists should be devoid of their religion, be it a muslim or non-muslim.

Terrorism has rather become a “religion” in itself. Religion (Islam) is what they take shade of to fade their sin, to attain sympathy from the 'God-fearing lots', and to serve their own “gods”(their Masterminds).

If at all they are religious, lets out-caste them, snatch their “khans” from their names and see if they be true muslims, do they leave their “religion” for Religion.

All muslims are not terrorists and they are loosing their humane image just becuz of dese terrorists, den why not bring back the same glory back when a muslim can be proud to tell that he is a “Khan”.

"One finds love wherever the stream flows in from....."

"One finds love wherever the stream flows in from....."


Its been more than 30 years that my parents are married now.
we are four siblings,two of my sisters are married, not only that but they too have kids now; wonder why am i telling this, to tell that we have grown up and our parents too need to grow up now.
But my parents, i feel, are still strangers to each other, who met at some alienated mind's fair. They don't ever try to understand each other. All they know is respecting their own roots. The daily trivial fights are enough for depressing one of us, letting other to go and open his books so that he is not the next target to be scolded for not studying(at that very moment), making one leave for kitchen and take hold of the next meal. and for me it always remain a question to ponder over, who is the guilty?

Both are at faults to me every time. But i don't know why am i always inclined towards mom, for she is the same sex as i am? or she is weaker, so to say? or is it the fear, of my being in her shoes at some time, for some day i will get married to a person whom i don't know? Who might
turn out to be one kind of my dad is? who can be just fighting over trivial things, though giving me the social respect and honor?
i always learn a lesson from their fights. "i will not do this mistake, which mum did" i tell myself, but what mistake? dad is at fault too. why am i convicting mom even when i am for her? am i letting her and myself down as the rule has been forever for women? it always makes me wonder, why they still have their own such minor issues to fight over than thinking about their children? what have they
bonded over since their marriage? times have changed. they say marriages in earlier days were better, but i feel the other way round. people are smarter now. they learn from their elder's mistakes and don't let their married life get stuck in such minor brawls. they understand their partners better with time and work out to make them their better half. they don't let their egos come between them
and their alter-egos. I believe in the adage that age old bonds were meant for many births to come. But now youngsters understand that its more of living that relationship than to survive it for ages to come.

My family life has made me strong enough that i sometimes stand hard hill in front of a melting heart too. But i later realize that am doing the same mistake that my parents are doing, not understanding the other. our parents have brought us up with all love, but the only love missing is among them. even when they are happy they are not in concert.

Being in hostel, i always yearn to go back home, but since these fights are becoming a daily pastime; its making me love my hostel walls more. i don't even love being in company of friends. i spend time reading books, surfing net, preparing for exams. it has become the best part of me. i enjoy reading stories that show family love, bonding,i know all happy stories are not so true, there is some fiction in them.
so i am now good enough to find out what is actually behind the words, as i know what is behind the relationships. they grow as you want them to, sweet or sour, they grow so. and letting a relation grow sour means letting the other person flow towards the stream which calls him/ her, be it the spiritual, the knowledge, or towards the sinful stream.

Before i become an angel!!!

Before i become an angel!!!

All of us have some dreams, some aims which we keep dreaming of achieving in our life, without realizing that the life for which we are drawing our paths is not in our hands. Will we ever be able to stand at the height we aim at? Maybe that height turns into nothingness in front of our eyes or maybe we add into that nothingness and someone else conquers the height. We are never ready to grow up. All we believe is, lets be what we are and future is all ours we can work out. Its time now to build your room, only then you can end up building your skyscraper. Wake up before you sleep forever!

Imagine you come to know that you are left with a few days to live! what all will you "pack your bags with?" Some bricks, some cement, some paint of your favorite color, some paintings to make your room lively? Well that would be playing a prank with yourself, wasting half the time making a room lively when you will not live for long. Or will you pack your bag with a collapsible shelter, a beautiful bedspread and comfortable pillows and make all those days never like before.

21/12/2012, they say, is going to be the doomsday. So lets start packing our bags and if fortunately we don't end up, well, we then end up building our lives. Before I become an angel (am sure i will), I more of want to be famous then being rich. I too want people to download my pictures. I want them to adore me, to idolize me. I want to be everywhere in the newspapers (for a good cause of course), be it the city paper. So all I am going to pack my bag with is, the pictures i look beautiful in.

knowing it later

This is a self composed poem, telling how one oscillates from one decision to another and depicts the unstable mind.......

i thought...... i am happy

but i wasn't completely, i knew it later

i thought...... my family is my entire world

but it was just a part of it, i knew it later

i thought......i don't need someone special

but it wasn't so, i knew it later

i thought......i can sacrifice everything for u

but i couldn't, i knew it later

i thought......its about only you and me

but it wasn't, i knew it later

i thought...... it be a reality !

but it dint seem so, i knew it later

i thought......this isn't right hence be it a dream!

but it wasn't, i knew it later

i thought......i am best fated

but i wasn't, i knew it later

i thought......i got a shoulder to cry upon

but it was my own knee, i knew it later

looking out for the " BLUE TURBAN" (PM visits us)

That was me this afternoon, when i was coming back to my room from the girls hostel mess, after having lunch. Security is up since few days as the PM is approaching. day started as yet another holiday for me, i was not so excited for the PM's arrival. For me, a prolonged weekend, to be happy and to be slothful too. Coming back to my room after lunch and deciding what to start next, to continue with the same novel or to get over to the next, i saw some flags at the gate of the guest house,right behind the hostel. And to my excitement, there were two Ambassador cars too. well this really charged me up, i am going to see our very own PM. i started thinking of telling everyone as soon i catch a glance. standing there for around forty odd minutes, i was about to give up when suddenly, there was some HULCHUL near the entrance, guards stood up, some gentlemen came out with a few smart ladies. and it made me think if Mrs. Singh also is accompanying the PM. I took out my cell and zoomed it to click the BLUE TURBAN, but to my despair Mr. singh didnt turn up. Those very people drove off in the cars and i came back to my room.

Then after around 10 mins something forced me out towards that grilled window again where i was standing, and there was an eye-opener, a white sedan car with a red number plate escorted by two ambassadors and a jeep were outside the gate. my heart started to beat abnormally.
I was numb watching this status. But i missed his glance by a few seconds. But i was certain to see him when he departs. guards and commandos were having a gossip session, so started my waiting session. and i started dreaming of being at a high position and having that persona. How the PM must be feeling being at the same place where once he came as just another human-being and today he is getting all the honor. maybe his eyes would have moistened.

After waiting for 15 mins or so, the guards suddenly took their positions near the white car. i was attentive too and the next moment they formed the group again for their talks. i again had to wait and after another 15 mins the guards stood attentive,the sedan started and the PM sat in the car from the window,yes, the left window; which i was risking all my time on and praying for PM not to sit through that window as i couldn't see it, and the PM was driven off, without even letting me see his blue turban.
I risked myself waiting for the PM as i later noticed that to have a glance at PM i ignored the buzz of the bees in their hive over my head.