tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42977672682998973572012-01-25T14:33:11.445+05:30Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.comBlogger671100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-62772891364821942882012-01-20T00:13:00.001+05:302012-01-20T23:18:04.059+05:30

The sky marooned the look in his eyes, a taste of dust and blood. His vision blurred with smoke and dirt. The earth a shade of crimson, It lusted for his blood. A rush through his body. Sweat crawls down his trembling hands. He reaches for the metal, a fire burning bright, the taste of copper in his mouth. A cloud of smoke, a deafening noise! and an etching silence.

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-2115460580131079902012-01-18T17:12:00.001+05:302012-01-19T22:14:21.162+05:30

हैं धुआं सा छाया अँधेरा रात का मुख्मौन डेरा निशब्द साँसे दबी हुई सी सिस्कियों का शोर घेहरा कंकाल से सब बुत खड़े हैं मृत्यु का जंजाल फैला रूह रूठी हैं बदन से अक्स का हैं साथ छूटा कुम्हली हुई सी जिंदगी हैं अतिक्षय का यह खेल घिनोना ।

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-54820960314809435652012-01-06T17:13:00.000+05:302012-01-06T17:13:29.775+05:30

It has been over a year since I have known him. I remember the day when he walked into my life. The transition had been so faint and smooth that I hardly noticed it until too late. He looked at me and smiled. There was vicious look on his face. He knew I had feared him like everyone and he enjoyed it. Savoured  every atom of it. He knew he owned me and I couldn't fight him back. Everyday I tried

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-75195900171722817252011-12-02T15:35:00.001+05:302011-12-10T21:16:33.058+05:30

He lives in the shadows of his dark past, walks down a lane of the memories long lost. Not a word he says not a word he hears To the world he's just 'another loony being' He has no friends to call his own so he speaks to the ghosts of the silence and the dark. He hears their voices, they chat with him. His secrets, his woes, they have known it all. His happiness, his joy, they have shared

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-69140554141935229622011-11-21T15:05:00.001+05:302011-11-21T15:30:13.679+05:30

Damn it ! I feel so rejected . The thought had barely entered my mind after being blatantly rejected by a dozen of auto drivers to take me to my destination that I had this swanky bright green auto rip through the traffic and stop by my side.Startled a bit , and at the same time trying to cope up with the past rejection I sighed and with a sweet smile asked the driver politely to take me to my

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-53673583704273380292011-11-03T17:18:00.000+05:302011-11-07T11:15:53.541+05:30

रात की खामोशियों में  सिसकियों के राग गाता  वफात के भवर में  एक नौका डगमगाता  आज हैं मानव ऐ तेरा  ईमान क्यों हिचकिचाता  क्यों भरा संकोच मन में  क्यों हैं तू यूह  थरथराहता  आज तो तू  हयात के राह में हैं फिर चलनेवाला  मौत को कर तू पराजय  आज फिर हैं खिलनेवाला  भय नहीं तुझको  मरण का  फिर ज़िन्दगी से क्यों खटक हैं  आज तो हर कार्य तेरा  नीती के सह्कर्यत हैं |

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-33018570799367448472011-10-20T23:47:00.003+05:302011-10-20T23:47:37.093+05:30

She was thirteen when she first did it. It was a hot April afternoon and she was sitting alone in her backyard. He had been watching her everyday from the street across. He sighed and then walked towards her. She had always been smitten by him. He swirled her around and took her in his arms . Her body melted in his strong arms. She looked around , as if to make sure they were alone.  They walked

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-27270831287380491252011-10-18T22:48:00.000+05:302011-10-19T01:14:09.029+05:30

He was never the first choice , never a thought-off option. Everything that was bought in the house was  never intended for him. He was a catastrophe, a dejection. No one ever heard him complain though. Or maybe no one ever paid any heed to it. Every time any member of the house got something new , they were always warned to keep it safe from him. He had  conniving ways to get the things he

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-66081211020050653772011-10-18T21:04:00.001+05:302011-10-18T21:04:41.982+05:30

I was three years old when my family moved to Bangalore. My father had just got a new job in one of the local banks. I was very excited when we landed here. We bought a small apartment near this ancient looking place in the city. Dad and I walked every Sunday to buy vegetables. I would love walking on those empty streets, staring at the street hawkers, people clad in white gowns that extended

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-62848382083560085262011-10-18T13:06:00.002+05:302011-10-18T13:06:39.112+05:30

अनकही सी कोई कहानी  आज बसी हैं नयन में  राज़ कितने अनकहे से  न जाने वह लायी हैं संग में  जाने कब शुरू हुई यह  न जाने कब यह ख़त्म  निर्लाज्ञ्ता से बहती हुई  आज हुई हैं पूर्ण यह  आज बह कर लब पे मेरे यह हैं फिर आकर थमी  लब की सिमटी नीरवता को अपने में भिगोती हुई  एक कहानी आज फिर  पूर्ण होने को चली  दिल की  बेड़ियों  की आज एक कड़ी हैं फिर खुली | 

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-9618429507232280542011-10-04T00:07:00.001+05:302011-10-14T12:29:25.844+05:30

She speaks to me in a tender voice A soft whisper rather The leaves, they rustle The feather, the wind it blows them far She calls again in agony and pain I shut my eyes A breath of sigh! a sweet surrender But something still turns within that she,Oh Death ! could not calm Sometimes they still linger. They haunt the air with noises like the wings that flutter they clutter and clatter Rustle like

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-8256414111633383902011-08-04T15:56:00.002+05:302011-08-05T01:28:12.217+05:30

He walks each night in his frazzled garb. The broken stick and load over his back. Peeking through the windows and wriggling through the doors, he waits for the clock to strike, and the moment to arrive, and then when all goes lull, and the moaning fill the skies, he makes a move and, steps out for his grand appearance. When everything goes still in the human world, and memories cloud the minds

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-24560217109263113212011-08-04T02:29:00.000+05:302011-08-04T02:29:16.466+05:30

एक कतरा ज़िन्दगी का  मौत के सायें में लिपटा दर्द की अनकही दास्तान  के पूराने पन्नो में सिमटा  सिसकियों की गोद में वह  मुस्कराहट को दबाये  रूह में अपने   ज़िन्दगी की लौ को छिपाए  निर्मय के भंवर में  उस कश्ती को बचाए  आज एक उमंग ने फिर  ज़िन्दगी की राह जगाई 

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-63026686030967464652011-05-27T12:43:00.000+05:302011-05-27T12:43:29.302+05:30

She stood at the end of the alley.Her lips dressed in a shade of lacquered matte red. She wore a short black dress.It fit her dainty frame too well. A bit too well. His gaze wandered restlessly and then rested upon her stature.He gawked at her for what seemed longer than a moment or two. She felt an awkward feeling crawl through her.A chill ran through her spine.She briskly wiped the sweat beads

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-14630280218016883452011-05-24T01:20:00.001+05:302011-06-13T22:04:34.052+05:30

Mithya had been a very timid girl even as a child. Being  the only child she had spent most of her growing up years in the company of her books and toys and the four walls of her room. She hated talking to people or going out with her friends, not that she had many friends either. She liked being alone. She knew she was not like all the other people. She was different. There was something wrong

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-69914503112504588812011-04-11T13:48:00.001+05:302011-04-11T13:53:56.993+05:30

Kavita had been married to Rajesh for about 19 years. Everyday a living hell for her and her son. Rajesh an alcoholic was married to Kavita with the hope that he may improve and learn to be responsible post marriage. (A typical Indian mentality that if your son has wavered from the right path of life only a marriage can bring him back to it.) Hence Kavita became the guinea pig for this mission.

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-69418394577190932202011-03-17T13:09:00.001+05:302011-03-17T15:47:47.301+05:30

Half an hour now , there was still no sign of her. He checked the time on his watch and then looked towards the entrance again. He beaconed for the waiter standing nearby and ordered for another cup of latte. It was their first meeting. He shifted and re-arranged his frame time and again. She walked in at alas! Her face flushed pink with the summer heat and a slight sensation of embarrassment.

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-26777998303659894202010-12-02T02:45:00.000+05:302010-12-02T02:45:27.431+05:30

It was a cold winter night.  He had left her standing alone at the driveway.She howled and wailed as he drove past her, leaving her soaked and sore. She was dripping red. Standing aloof. Shivering in wretchedness. He looked in his rear view mirror catching a glimpse of her fading image. Years have passed and the world has changed much faster than expected.He has now grown to be a respectable and

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-25435731375292037592010-11-30T21:56:00.000+05:302010-11-30T21:56:19.765+05:30

It had been a week now and Mithya had not fed Quarto any food. He had been famished and was dying bitterly. His skin no longer had the sheen that had attracted Mithya towards him. It was now a shade of pale yellow striking a fairly close resemblance to a jaundice contracted patient.his memories had begun to wither like the autumn leaves.Even his clothes were no better than the tattered rags on

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-10659458738429146922010-11-30T20:53:00.000+05:302010-11-30T20:53:46.637+05:30

A note before I begin to write:'I thank you Lubaina S Rangwala for being the inspiration and the motivation behind the story. Thanks for giving the idea. I am elated to know that final piece of work could leave an impact on you. :)' and now.....She had nails. Long, lacquered and red. My mom said something about the type. But, right now I wasn't listening. Right now, I was .... I was struggling.

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-9333477587996366142010-11-16T00:16:00.001+05:302010-11-16T00:16:06.581+05:30

In the hustle bustle of this city life in streets that are filled with screeching horn cries hearing one's own voice is a great big task but then as I walked a few steps down I saw a conversation just being formed. No words exchanged , but an idea shared. No sound were heard but, the thoughts conversed. There was much said in those silent words Much was asked and much spoken Much explained and

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-81181850744767841622010-11-13T13:10:00.002+05:302010-11-14T12:37:29.120+05:30

I greet the world with a burnished smile but I weep alone in the dark of the night. With the dawn of the day I color the tears bright I dare not to cry in the morning light. To say I fear the world is untrue for the evil in me is a lot more crude, and so each night I come to you. Once feared, but now my friend for life you bury me deep in your gentle arms. Together we are like the body and

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-64493136199951404742010-09-17T15:28:00.000+05:302010-09-17T15:28:58.298+05:30

During one of my recent train journeys from my hometown to Bangalore city I happened to share my compartment with a young couple and their 3 year old child. In the course of the entire journey, the couple’s unfailing attempts to converse with their child in English were something worth noting. Every time the child articulated a syllable or two or tried to communicate the parents very

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-89547651102789449442010-09-17T01:58:00.002+05:302010-09-21T22:53:39.083+05:30

 आईने की दरारों में आज,  जिंदगी की झलक नज़र आई | काग़ज़ के बिखरे हुए पन्नो में , एक अनकही कहानी पाई | देखा जो आज,  प्रतिच्छाया को अपनी , तो कही एक छुपी हुई , मुस्कान नज़र आई | अपने प्रतिबिंब के बिखरे हुए , पृष्ठों में आज,  कुछ बीते हुए लम्हो की , छाप नज़र आई | आज रूह के भूले सवालो की,  कशमकश नज़र आई | उन्मत्त से मन को , राहत की एक आस नज़र आई |

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-58805953433573510972010-06-24T12:23:00.000+05:302010-06-24T12:23:04.971+05:30

Mithya entered her one bedroom house in at the corner of the street at 10 o clock in the night. She quietly opened the padlock and entered the house, double locking the door behind her. She then kept her bag at a nearby table and went to close the windows of the house, double latching each one of them. Mithya worked for an NGO that worked towards women rights and education. She went and washed

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-62223630322802099232010-06-03T23:12:00.005+05:302010-10-10T12:59:54.521+05:30

It was a lovely Friday night and Meeta had just returned home after an official dinner party. Meeta had been working for X Networks as a designer for the past 5 years and had been appreciated for her good work by all her subordinates and seniors. The company had just completed with their appraisal process and Meeta had been promoted to a Senior managers' post. The party was to celebrate this

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-90352129456704378562010-04-21T00:35:00.000+05:302010-04-21T00:35:06.361+05:30

मोती बनकर आखों से मेरी, यह आसूँ  यूह बह जाते हैं जैसे सागर की कोई लहर विशाल छु कर उसके तट को , फिर खो जाती हैं | पानी की यह कोमल बूंदे , कुछ कह जाती हैं , जाते - जाते | उस क्षण भर की आयु में अपनी, जाने क्या राग सुना जाती हैं | मोती का लेकर रूप अनमोल, बैठी रहती पलकों के आँगन में | पर करते ही स्पर्ष इस माटी को , अपनी पहचान मिटा जाती हैं | पल भर में ही , मेरे जीवन की गाथा सारी यह सुना जाती हैं

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-62212290738521305572010-04-21T00:11:00.001+05:302010-04-21T00:38:02.879+05:30

ना जाने क्यों इन आखों से , छलकते हैं यह आँसू | हर्ष और शोक में भी , कुछ कहते हैं यह आँसू | मोती जैसा रूप ले कर , बरसते हैं यह आँसू  ||

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-73944928187416133432010-03-17T02:11:00.002+05:302010-03-17T02:11:49.025+05:30

Didn’t I warn you! Didn’t I tell you not to go there?? Didn't I?? But you would never ever listen to me. Never do what is told to you . Never Ever!! You just want to try do new things all the time, wander around, not listen to anyone and make a complete mess of yourself and all of us around. What do you plan to tell the committee? How are you going to justify this stupid act of yours? I

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-67943031127386932152010-02-28T01:30:00.000+05:302010-02-28T01:30:09.985+05:30

Tick tock tick tock (the clock stops ticking) Hey you, yes you on that wall. You dont seem to be yourself today, what's wrong? Oh come on say something. You cant just sit up there on the wall forever and stare at me like this. You know it creeps me out. I mean you staring at me all day long. Do you... do you like me? As in a crush or something? Nah ? then tell me what is it ? See now I know I am

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-62295945400126060062010-01-17T02:03:00.001+05:302011-11-21T15:03:29.101+05:30

Day 1, 14th Jan 2010 Thursday 17:30 hours. The privilege of leaving office at an early hour is not always bestowed on us and so my friend and I instantly grabbed the opportunity when it landed on our lap on the dull Thursday evening. We both didn't have much work on our platter and were neither in a mood to sit around. It was so decided, that it would be the best to get back home and rest our

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-66377702056654787032010-01-17T01:16:00.000+05:302010-01-17T01:16:15.848+05:30

The dexterity of finding an auto and convincing them to take you to your destination on no extra cost is a talent or a blessing bestowed only on a selected few. The saga of waiting endlessly for your pleas to be heard by the auto rickshaw drivers brings out a best of your worst emotions. It is entertaining and at the same time very annoying to see someone who has just stepped in to get an auto

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-66722261086823832862010-01-10T02:35:00.000+05:302010-01-10T02:50:39.956+05:30

Even God doesn't know what's on a woman's mind , so how can men get the answer to that so easily? It drives them crazy and insane for sure and I bet we women do enjoy it to an extent.So when all the women on facebook started updating their status with the just the color of the bras' they were wearing , it instantly caught the attention of all the men. While most of us got comments from a couple

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-34137111253509172852009-12-11T23:29:00.000+05:302009-12-23T16:23:31.720+05:30

I walked an empty lane today, dimly lit and calm. Not a soul around, no noise or sound. I thought I saw people pass by, but I couldn’t really see them . Except … Except for that one lonely soul there, That sat alone in the corner. She looked at me with lifeless, eyes and smiled mirthlessly. I took a step and two towards that lonely soul, and it wasn’t till I reached the end that

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-70393905506355663652009-07-10T16:56:00.001+05:302009-07-10T16:56:53.172+05:30

Achooo !! Achooo!!!Puff !!! what is this place ??? Yuck !! it’s so dusty and dark out here. Ewww and it smells horrible. It .. it smells like a piece of rotten cheese. There has to be a valid explanation for all this mess around …. It better be!!!. What is the meaning of all this. How can I ever land myself in a place like this. There has to be a way out for me. There just has to be one.I don’t

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-27062916451850067662009-06-11T17:48:00.000+05:302012-01-16T14:51:42.910+05:30

Mehul sat at aloof at the dark corner of his empty room , only filled with his random thoughts. He had just come from a funeral of someone really close and dear to him. The sudden abduction of a dear one by death had left him numbed. It was a part of him that had been taken away with out a replacement ever to be found for it.The pain of loosing someone so near and dear to him had been gravely

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-78665654863571850512009-02-24T11:10:00.000+05:302009-07-31T13:56:12.150+05:30

Jai ho! jai ho! jai ho to the 'pink chaddi' campaign.February 2009 was seen as a remarkable month that created history in itself. The attack by the Rama Sena activists on a bunch of Mangalorean girls had the whole nation in spits of fury. This shameful act by the RSS activist under the 'able guidance' of Mr. Pramod Mutalik not only got the entire nation together ,but also displayed the power of '

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-5149811188876724452009-02-03T20:36:00.000+05:302009-02-04T13:12:51.897+05:30

Screech screech screech shriek scratch and scratch ... can’t you be a gentle on me. You know I have a sensitive skin. If you continue rubbing so hard against me I’ll have my entire face bruised in no time. Ouch ouch ouch!!! That hurts! Stop it , I say . Just stop it!At least put some of that thick slimy liquid so that the lather protects my skin. Gosh I am so scared. I am telling you it’s so not

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-88594795000780620952008-12-30T14:02:00.001+05:302009-02-04T16:23:47.941+05:30

Pitter patter, pitter patter she watched the rain fall in front of her house, ruining her little flower garden. It had been raining for 5 hours now and the water level was rising rapidly. The little petunia plants were uprooted already and were now floating aimlessly on the water puddles.She lowered herself to protect the remaining garden from facing the same fate that was bestowed on the little

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-33881470779815005712008-12-21T23:10:00.000+05:302009-02-02T12:26:18.272+05:30

JUMP..higher higher higher ....come here, no no no not that way , roll over here. Yes yes under the bookshelf, quick quick quick , before he grabs you. Ah! Finally, this is a safe place. He won’t be able to find us here .Phew! We finally managed to free ourselves from that painful life. We are now free to move around at our own wish.You know how I detested that wretched, old tattered dusty box

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-34616241936727626022008-12-19T17:03:00.000+05:302008-12-19T17:18:39.368+05:30

Hey ! hey you .. yes I am talking to you Mr. Where are you looking ? look here am right in front of you . Stop! Stop whistling like that and get away from me okay. See I am warning you i have just been given this new white dress , and now don’t you dare dirty it .Haven’t you heard of anything called a public toilet ? Can’t you use that to ease yourself ? Why is it so fascinating for you to

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-22432815298723251072008-12-03T17:54:00.001+05:302008-12-05T14:39:30.410+05:30

Wonder if any book in this world would have the definition of a perfect life or when someone says that their life is perfect .. i wonder what do they mean by the word perfect . What do we describe as a perfect life or rather what is it that describes or makes ones life perfect ???Is perfection off and in life be well described in the limited world of words ??? And can we actually bind the

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-21512528742431485332008-10-31T00:34:00.000+05:302008-10-31T00:45:27.422+05:30

Again a random piece of writing ........I walk a laneof haunted thoughtsMemories of myburied pastlinger on likethe shadows ofmy dark soul.Voices from deepwithin mecry out ina melancholic trance.I try hard tosoar them in thespirits of the spring soulsthat surround me.Burn them in theheat of the young lifearound me,but they like the smokeof burnt rubber tyrestay on foreverhaunting me and cursing

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-20222851256292533102008-08-21T23:52:00.000+05:302008-09-17T13:02:13.388+05:30

This is the first poem that I wrote. Had written it in class 6th and since then been scribbling .ज़िन्दगी दुःख और सुख से भरी कहानी हैं ,खुशियों के दामन से ले कर दुःख के भंडार तकअंधेरे से ले कर प्रकाश तक का सफर हैं यह ।ज़िन्दगी एक अनोखी दास्तान हैंज़िन्दगी दुःख ..................कहानी हैं ।सुख के दो घंटे दो पल के तरह लगते हैंदुःख के दो पल भी बड़े मुश्किल से कटते हैं ।परन्तु मनुष्य को ज़िन्दगी से

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-31739370802950662002008-08-21T23:13:00.000+05:302008-09-27T12:22:19.468+05:30

कभी सुख , कभी दुःख कारूप लेती हैं खामोशी ।झगडे के बाद की खामोशीसब को लुभाती हैं ,पर मृत्यु के बाद की खामोशी ,किस का मन मोह पाती हैं?किसी के लिए वरदान ,तो किसी के लिए श्रापहैं यह खामोशी ।कही सिसकियों को दबायेहोती हैं अपने में खामोशी ।तो कभी सुख कोअपने आँचल में लाती हैं खामोशीखामोशी .........मृत्यु की शुरुवात कानाम हैं शायद खामोशीया ज़िन्दगी कादूसरा रूप हैं यह खामोशीसाक्षी

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-28035382580298221522008-08-21T22:58:00.000+05:302008-09-17T13:01:36.966+05:30

दुनिया के इस मोह - माया मेंफंसा हुआ हैं यह इंसानरिश्ते नाते के बन्धन मेंबंधा हुआ हैं यह इंसानतोड़ दे सारे बंधन तू अबतोड़ दे यह माया का जालहिब्बा कर दे अपनी दौलत कोत्याग दे तू अब यह संसारचल अब तू उस शक्ति की ओरजिसका हैं जग में प्रकाशहैं ज़हीन की वही अन्तिम मंजिलहैं मूर्ख का भी वही पर स्थानआया हैं तुझको भी अब निमंत्रणत्याग दे तू अब यह संसारसाक्षी

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-67607372442719088702008-07-16T18:27:00.001+05:302012-01-25T14:33:11.461+05:30

Today is  my birthday. I would turn 8 years old today. My parents will throw a party and have all my friends come over. We will play lots of games.I think I'll wear my new green dress for my party with those wonderful matching shoes. I can already imagine all my freinds admiring my dress and all my uncles and aunts praising me in it. See here comes Mummy. I think she is going to take out that

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-65003361111915324552008-07-15T18:58:00.001+05:302010-05-02T23:37:41.097+05:30

Life doesn’t not always start smooth for most of us. At least it didn't for the 5 year old Rudali who lived in a small village in Haryana with her mother, father and her 20 year old uncle( her fathers' brother). Rudali's parents, Bhushan and Leelavati worked in the local paper mill as factory workers. They made just enough money to support their family of four , that comprised of Bhushan,

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-11441283288587387842008-06-03T12:26:00.000+05:302008-06-05T15:37:58.926+05:30

There might be a few spelling errors in this piece, due to the limitations of hindi typing fonts।खामोश , करुनामय , शीत हूँ मैं , विस्मय भरी एक पहेली हूँ मैं ,एक नए जीवन का आरंभ हूँ मैं ,एक संघर्ष का अंत हूँ मैं । मैं मृत्यु हूँ ,मैं जीवन का एक रूप हूँ ,मैं दर्द हूँ, मैं पीड़ा हूँ ,मैं खुशी हूँ, मैं सुकून हूँ । मैं शुरुवात हूँ ,मैं ही अंत हूँ ,एक काल हूँ मैं,जीवन की एक बिन्दु हूँ मैं । मैं मृत्यु

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-30802806001371585732008-06-02T17:36:00.000+05:302008-06-02T17:55:44.697+05:30

I really really don't know why I have written this piece or what does it actually mean . I have yet again played a victim to my thoughts and penned them down as they came : I walk a mile on a dark desert highway on a cold winter night,in the midst of a storm .I don't know what it is that keeps me moving on............ The fear of death surely could not be for its' long been my companion now

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-38268204494428155772008-05-23T16:46:00.000+05:302008-05-27T11:14:21.306+05:30

The first sunshine after the rain .................It seemed to be just another ordinary day for Shantilata. Despite the fact that she had lot many hurdles in the past few months , but the regular occurrences of these events somehow made her accustomed to it.Emotions of pain or feelings of suffering no longer had an effect on her. For that matter neither did moments of joy y and happiness hold

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-29039889905221927412008-05-05T10:59:00.000+05:302008-05-05T15:42:06.112+05:30

It was a lousy Sunday morning and I had no intentions of stepping out in the scorching summer heat for my share of excitement , when I decided to go through one of my friends blog whom I had pestered in every manner possible to join in the magical world of blogging.I say magical world coz it somewhat reminds me of the world of Narnia . For those of you who are not familiar with the world of

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-44414307000287402492008-05-02T18:59:00.001+05:302010-03-23T01:37:48.867+05:30

Have you ever wondered what life would be without a bit of music or what is it to live life without the rhythm and beat in it??? If not then try shutting your eyes for a minute and try to remember the sound of the first raindrop against the window-panes. the sound of lil boys running around the fields on a warm summer afternoon... the sound of the soft wind in your ears or the sound of silence on

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-19753031566238159862008-04-14T10:50:00.001+05:302008-12-05T14:46:05.645+05:30

…..Of Life and DeathIn a world of advancement, education, technology, and competition, it is tragic to see the worth of everything being assessed in time and money. The fact that is appalling is that we humans –Gods so called Greatest Creations have started to include life and death in this genre.Gone are the days when a birth was celebrated with happiness and the beginning of new life cherished

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-1077267400579931362008-04-09T17:53:00.000+05:302008-04-10T11:33:39.838+05:30

आज बैठे बैठे यू ही नज़र हाथो की आड़ी टेडी रखो पर पड़ी तो मन में एक ख्याल सा उठा की ....... कितनी आश्चर्य की बात है की यह छोटी - छोटी रेखाये भी कितना कुछ कहती है ।जहाँ हाथो पे खीची रेखाये किसी की तकदीर की कहानी बयां करती है , तो कही यही लक्कीरे अगर चेहरे पर उत्पन होती है तो कभी शोख भाव तो कभी उल्लास की झुर्रिया छोड़ जाती है । तो कभी ढलती उम्र के निशान।हम में से शायद ही किसी ने सोचा होगा की कुछ आड़ी

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-279932974203115532008-04-09T17:09:00.000+05:302008-04-09T17:10:09.881+05:30

I still remember the first time I came to this new city, all alone in this alien land. I stepped inside the college gates, all by myself. Standing there all alone. Searching…searching for someone known. Someone I could call my own, trust more than I would trust myself. I searched for someone who would hold my hands and say, ‘I’d be there for you, friend’ , and then I saw you in that crowd and I

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-72052896275574117202008-04-08T15:28:00.000+05:302008-04-08T16:39:31.110+05:30

I made a garland of thousand tears of life , that i shed in joy and pain. I take them from the treasures of my memories and wear them day and night. every drop of them, like a feature floats over my body. Shines like thousands o f pearls under a single ray of sunlight.They share with me my joys of life. travel with me on a ride of failures and success. We waled a mile,we ran a yard.Together we

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-9564843337332353712008-04-07T10:31:00.000+05:302008-04-09T12:41:54.075+05:30

The streets of this city are nothing more than a path of mud and gravel filled with dirt for many of you, but for me it's been everything. My home , my family, my playground. I don't know how I came here, or who brought me here, all I remember is that when I opened my eyes I found myself on the corner of this street. Since then , it has been my best companion in my joy and sorrows.Like this

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-7893982547276945282008-04-04T19:09:00.000+05:302008-04-04T20:09:23.802+05:30

Through a small cistern in the dirty white sheet of clouds spread over the sky he looked down at me. The light of his eyes peered through the sky , making it blush all over as it gently touched me. I looked up to him and acknowledged his touch.He held me rooted to my feet down here and my gaze fixed up to him as he stared me down in my eyes. The glare so blinding , so charasmatic, so striking,

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-55772742371545348332008-04-03T16:53:00.000+05:302008-04-03T18:24:09.446+05:30

The silence of death and the solitude of ones thought go often unheard in this hustle bustle of life .It happened last night as I went to my room to resign for the day , I heard a weeping sound in my balcony. A little anxious I stepped towards the balcony only to discover my own thoughts sitting and crying in a dark corner . Yes , yes you did read it right and neither are you eyes playing any

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-70071544963638041122008-03-31T18:17:00.000+05:302008-04-03T19:23:32.208+05:30

Ultimate cocktailHave you ever wondered what life is ? Or have you ever asked what does it mean to you ? I guess we all have asked ourselves this questions a zillion of times at some point or the other and have always had the ability to come out with different answers everytime. While for many of us life is an adventure, a book, a song, or a never ending journey. For many of us like Tom Hank

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-68233156629250561692008-03-27T16:19:00.000+05:302008-03-31T17:15:44.086+05:30

ChoicesYesterday was a regular Monday morning. Started my day with a nice walk around the vicinity of my dwelling and then a quick shower and my royal breakfast , that is a few slices of bread, some cheese omelet, a glass of milkshake and I was off to work . As soon as I stepped out of the silence of my house into the hustle-bustle of the city, a thought crossed my mind. The thought of the

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-26785009485037175642008-03-27T14:27:00.001+05:302008-04-03T18:15:47.205+05:30

CHILDRENOnly children know the joy of making fish faces by pressing their noses against glass. The joy of life is only seen by children, which adults would never understand. These little bundles of joy, who live their life, dipped in colours, painted under the rainbow, with never a frown on their face, never a fear on their mind.We all live life in different colours. Shades of blue, red, gray,

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-72884289239287831262008-03-27T14:25:00.001+05:302008-03-28T11:09:03.490+05:30

Happiness, joy,enjoyment--have these just become mere words in our life or do these expressions carry any meaning in todays' world. In a world where no one has time for their ownself, do we actually have time to care for an emotion so beautiful ann unique?The word in itself has been quite a unique one for the past generations and maybe for a the generetions to come. Man has always been in the

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-61775422680121712982008-03-25T15:41:00.001+05:302008-03-31T17:23:05.124+05:30

Ramanath was a simple and one of the most eligible village lads. He had recently stepped into the 21st year of life. His fluency in the English language and his well-built physique made him famous among the village lasses.Ramanath was the son of the village weaver; his father had taken a loan from the village landlord for his education. He had expected his son to return after completing his

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-77313996001982532072007-08-13T14:37:00.000+05:302008-03-31T17:29:32.154+05:30

When a man lies,in his grave,and sleeps in hismothers' arm,with a blanket of the vast skyover him.Unaware of the world outside.Unaware of the human savage behaviour.He sleeps in his grave,and the nightnigale,and the animals and naturesing for him.The melody of the songthat touches his heartand soothes his soulslowly and slowlydecays' with himas time passes by.Sakshi

Sakshi Gauravhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05488660023221479563noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4297767268299897357.post-25387455148148424112007-04-21T16:38:00.000+05:302008-03-27T14:54:35.877+05:30

A Dead Mans' Worldi wonder what his life would beno blood, no flesh, no soul -intactAll bones and air is all-he isHe breathes the air we know not offhe walks the path of roadswe dreadhe has no one around himstill,he smiles each day and nightHe has no tensions ofthis worldly lifeHe has no need to rushin the walk of life.No sorrows to cryNo tears to shedNo fear to looseNo pain to feelI wonder what

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