Trust… Trust is the foundation stone on which relationships always survive. Be it loving your parents, friends or life partners, without trust, the relationship is like body without bones. Lack of trust is the primary cause of all the social epidemics - war, politics, divorce etc..(accepted.. Greed is also a cause).
Placing our trust can be as easy as blink of the eye and can be as tough as breaking a diamond. Since the moment we are born, we start trusting people, place, things and what not. It is the basis that the world still stands upon. It is trust that tomorrow always comes, that gears to continue our lives without anxious anticipation of death.
But trust, as everything is, is not permanent. Trust can betray either when the object of trust is not in our hands to control or when trust is made to fail by the object of trust. Whatever the case, it hurts an awful lot when the object of trust fails us. Failure in materialistic trust might atmost cause ending our life and embrace death, but emotional trust might cause living death. It is never definite, at what point of time you start losing trust. It may be immediate, or gradually occurring. 
I step into my place of dreams… the grass - fresh as dew, the water - clear as crystal, the sky - blue as ever, the rose - well…..as beautiful as a rose… The place is refreshing, scintillating and peaceful. Life seems rosy with all these. But rose, beautiful at sight, doesn’t give the same feeling while holding tight. Then it’s the case of which is harder - the fingers or the pricks. Both the pricks and fingers are affected. I am stupid enough to bleed my fingers and yet admire the flower and the flower is dumb enough to hold its pricks in tact, not knowing that I'm bleeding. I might never realise that it is meant to be admired from a distance. But, oh… I see ahead - jasmines, lavenders, tulips and many such pleasantries. Like a child equipped with many choices of toys, I reach to them with my other hand and find comfort in them. Yet, the other hand will always remember the touch of the rose…. The living death.
Let it go!
Young Blood
India, being one of the countries with most youth population, has around just 10% of youth population at the parliament. For so many years, it has been insisted that politics is not youth's cup of tea and that they are not mature enough to handle the affairs of the country from such a position. But the recent trend shows that the youth are not only capable handling politics, but can carry out tasks effectively too. Indeed this is the latest venture that youth have entered into, after proving in so many areas that, young people bring more creativity, energy, freshness and efficiency to them.
The 2009 general elections have brought to the spotlight, the contributions made and the contributions that can be made by them. I am, of course, speaking about Rahul Gandhi. He is widely touted as the mastermind of the Congress's surprise victory at UP. I am not writing this to promote his ideas, nor am I supporting him. But his contribution is undeniable as said. He is the general secretary of the Youth Congress and has been very instrumental in developing the Youth Congress. The general belief among the masses is that, the path of politics is generally full of guns and thorns and dirt, that there is no limit for corruption, partiality and such stuff. But he has been exemplary in implementing the rules of the YC.
And you can see the results in front of your eyes.
The main reason of the inability of the BJP to win the elections lies in the difference that exists between Congress and BJP. There are no young leaders who can dynamically adapt to the situations and hence stuck with stubborn age old ideas. Even within the ranks of BJP, Rahul's cousin serves as an example. He is one of the few young people to be elected from BJP to the Parliament. He set a record for the margin of votes by which a new comer (first timer for MP elections) has won, which stands at nearly 2,50,000, which is second only to his cousin. Of course it was indirectly helped by his alleged hate speech. But all the more, it has given much for the BJP to realize the lack of a visionary leader at BJP. Not withstanding the controversial Jinnah-Jaswant row, the party is at dire straits now. It better pick itself up and turn around, else there would be no strong opposition for the Congress to be questioned for its policy making and the people of India might not have a second option to turn towards other than Congress.
P.S.
Politics for Beginners
Socialism
You have two cows - You give one to your neighbour
Communism
You have two cows - The Government takes them both and gives you the milk
Fascism
You have two cows - The Government takes both and sells you the milk
Nazism
You have two cows - The Government takes both and shoots you
Capitalism
You have two cows - You sell one and buy a bull
Trade Unionism
You have two cows - They take the cows from you, shoot one, milk the other and throw the milk away
Moral
Don’t have anything to do with cows. They only bring you trouble
Slytherin
The dark figure was flying in circles above forming a brownian motion of rings hovering around something. The orange sky on the western horizon was in stark contrast to the dull dark blue looming on the eastern horizon. One or two stars started twinkling in the south eastern grey stretch. His eyes, fixed upon the dark object, were following it in tandem with its flight. He had been debating with his sister about the identity of the dark object- eagle or crow. He was determined to determine the identity of the bird. For a moment, he took his eyes off the bird to look where he was standing. As he did so, his eyes stared at the hollow-block compound wall on the ground. For a moment, he felt dizzy as a result of his virtual chase of the dark bird hovering above. Then as blood rushed to his brain, he realized that he was staring deep beyond the leaning wall of the terrace of his house. Not very dangerous, but enough to scare him, for he was being a bit altophobic.
His sister and mother were listening to the radio, the only source of entertainment in the house. His mother was crooning an old tune in rhythm with the song played on the radio as his sister joined her to second her. As he returned his gaze to the sky, the bird had become too difficult to spot. Cursing the sun, he went around to settle himself near the radio in between both of them.
This was their routine, whenever his sister had finished his homework early and his mother had completed all her chores in the evening. As the radio jockey was broadcasting his signing off message, he looked into his new digital watch with an elephant face, gifted to him by his father on his birthday. It was 6:45.
"Time to go inside", announced his mother. He and his sister were reliving the lines of the last number played as his mother switched off the radio and took it by the handle. They were moving towards the stairs when his sister started telling about the very smooth surface on the floor that was unique on the rough terrace over which she was standing at that very moment. As far as his memories went, there was no such place here. She was going on about how velvety and soft it felt. He was struggling to see the floor as only the moon light assisted his vision. His mother switched on the long steel torch-light, which he very much suspected, could be put to use as a weapon. She focused the light on her feet and gave out a sharp scream and disappeared into the left where the staircase to the ground lay shouting "Snake!!!". His sister too, recognizing the horror, made a leap for the stairs. Now, he was the last. In front of him was the terror...
He had heard many tales of snakes. One of them being that, the snake took photos of its prey and in case its prey escaped, it uses its photo to haunt them again. Another, that snakes had powers to chase swiftly a person in full flight, frightened by it. Another, immediately after a snake strikes, the person would fall dead. His mind was flooding with all such memories, courtesy of the tales told by his friends, and his sister. Stunned, he was waiting for the flash. He was pondering about what it would do, if he tried running away. But he was not going to be able to stand there too. So much for the tales, he had not even seen the snake. Not yet. With his hopes to heaven, he blindly made two long jumps (with his small legs) to reach the stairs. He did not even know whether his legs brushed/stamped/crushed the snake or for that matter, touch the snake at all. The stairs had 15 steps and although many a times he had skipped a step while using the stairs previously, now it was different. With his four and half foot body, he launched himself into the dark realm of stairs not sure whether he would land on the firm platform or the blunt edges. Within four strides, he was at the ground just in time to catch a glimpse of his sister's leg disappear into the dark to reach for the main door. All this had happened in a few seconds and he never realized he had crossed the steps four at a time. When he reached inside, his sister turned back and bolted the main door. He had not even seen the snake. But the look on his sister's face told him that he was lucky not to.
Courtesy of his mother's scream, the neighbours helped the snake reach the heaven or hell or whatever it is that its afterlife is. Only then he and his sister had come out of the house to see the snake. His mother forbade him from seeing it. She ordered him into the house. But he went to the other side of the small crowd of neighbours to have a good view.
The snake was as long as his arms. Its smooth skin shined golden in the yellow torch lights of the crowd. The snake was still twitching its tail a little bit. As someone in the crowd suggested that the snake is still alive, a rod as thick as the snake fell on the snake with a sharp thud. With a last violent shake, the snake rested motionless, never to move again. The little crowd was discussing the procedure of disposing or more precisely, burning the snake. He moved away from the crowd, into the home, vowing never to go to the terrace after nightfall...
Will it?
The human mind is an extravagant composition of emotions, decisions, thoughts and confusion. All the other physical entities give something for the mind to chew upon. The implications of the mind on physical entities should also be accounted for. It need not be always the case that the environment or scenario has a control over the mind. Rather, the environment or scenario be controlled by a single mind, will also be possible.
Often the human mind is confused with what the self is, what the self wants to be and is the self nearer to what the self is or nearer to what the self wanted to be. They are not one and the same in most of the cases. And it is not an easy task to ideally be as what the mind wants to be. The solution lies in figuring out the co-existence of all the mind's desires and realities, and hence individuality occurs. The debate rages in the mind as to what is best for oneself, accepting the practical realities or having a firm belief and executing what or how the mind wants to be. This being one part, the mind also constantly relates to others'. It is not in its power to control what the other mind perceives or what the other mind wants to perceive. Nor the mind can exist in loneliness, for it may go mad. It is beautifully portrayed by the protagonist of "Into the wild", Christopher McCandless. His realizations towards the final days of his very short life speaks for itself.
The mind needs a trustful, caring and encouraging fellow-mind to confide in, it should seek for it. If it hasn't, then it might seek in the days to come.
2 The Conscious
Whaaam! Something hit him hard at the back and it brought him back to reality. Something warm and bright was giving him a hard time in keeping his eye lids closed. And the smell of frying tomatoes joined in disturbing his sleep.
"If you are not getting up within two minutes and brushing, I am going to drag you into the bathroom" his father's voice interrupted his epiphany. Some dream it was….
It was indeed the morning of Monday. Another week of school before the next Sunday. He never relished at the prospect of going to school nor was he bored, but sort of frightened. Even though he was the topper of the class, he was never comfortable enough to deal with teachers with great confidence. But he enjoyed a good company of friends, mostly girls and a few boys. So his school time was not as bad.
The sun had just started to show its full wraith on the soil when he reached the school, with his sister of course. Both of them waved good bye to their father and turned to go to their classes. He was in second and she was in fifth standard. They did not talk to each other, for they were still quarreling over some silly incident. At the best, they adored each other like an ideal brother-sister and yet they fought like cats and dogs at their worst. Whatever happened, they would never let their parents know, unless it was something serious.
Many a times his father would ask "How did u get that scratch on your hand?". He would say "I don’t know. I must have fallen somewhere". But secretly he would be scolding his sister.
Today was one such day. They walked together to show their dad, who was watching from across the fence, that nothing was wrong in between them. The school bell rang out piercing all the conversations that were happening around. Everybody hurried to their classes. She turned and scowled at him, probably contemplating whether to say good bye to him or not. If she said, then it would mean talking to him. So she wont say. "If she doesn’t say anything, then why should I?" he thought. He gave an i-don’t-care-whatever-you-do look and turned away without a second glance to his class...
1 Unconscious sightings
The afternoon sun was blazing like the fire raging through hay. It could not be stopped nor escaped. But he was not in a mood to get upset, for it was Sunday, the only full day he got to spend at home. He was excited with the new pink colour ball which his father had bought on his demand. But he had no one to play with. His mother was looking for some insect on his sister's head and his father was not at home. He stepped out of his doorstep and looked around. The sun was high above his head. The eastern view was embedded with a sandy road stretching towards the main road of the town. The southern view was filled with yellowish grass and ochre trees. The western view gave way to the road into the deep unknown, for he never explored nor wanted to explore that road. His house was standing on the bright plain like the sun in the sky. There were no houses around for quiet some distance, save his grandma's house. As he turned towards the northern side to look for his grandma's home, a dark figure was roaming in the yellowish green plains. As he was wondering for the reason of his wandering at this place, the dark figure looked up and flashed a crooked smile. He was debating whether to trot into the house to call his mum or leave it at that when the figure approached him. It was a man who, he thought to be in his late thirties or early forties. He had a fairly big tummy and he was burly.
"Hi", the man said. "Come here", he beckoned with the same crooked smile.
Still his mind was debating whether to respond to him or to run inside the house. Slowly he stepped out of his compound wall still unsure of his actions. He had a big frightening moustache and had curly hair.
"Can we play the ball?", the man asked, noticing the ball in his hand. At this he was filled with joy for getting someone to play with. Without a second thought, he threw the ball over to him signaling to start. And they played until the sun went a few degrees down towards the west. His mother gave a loud call for making sure that he was alright.
Immediately, "Bye! Bye!", he hushed and turned to run away. He turned back as if he realized something , "Don’t tell your mom about our playing", he said and sped away.
He stood beside the wall till the man's figure shrank and turned into just a silhouette. And then he realized he forgot to ask even the name of the man. But that was all he thought, for his thoughts never came back to the man when he went to the house. He forgot all about it.
As the sun passed out into the western horizon and the bright day gave to the dimly lit twilight, he sat in the porch trying to finish his homeworks, for it was Monday the next day and the inevitable prospect of going to the school loomed over him. His father had not yet returned. His mother and sister sat on the opposite side of the oil lamp, the only source of light in the house, and the supper was served. They had just finished their simple yet content dinner when they had some noise at the backyard. His mother became alert and with his sister went to the backdoor to look out for the noise. He was suddenly afraid as he was alone in the dark and the oil lamp's light was dancing with the slight wind and gave an illusion of passing shadows. He ran to his mother and caught her saree's end as she was reaching for the backdoor.
His mother picked up a stick of her hand's length and the thickness of a cucumber. She waited behind the shades of the thatches of the backyard as the noise of heavy footsteps was nearing the backyard door. She was ready to strike at anything that came by, with her hands lifted and gripping the stick. He still stood holding her saree's end and afraid to look out, hid behind her back with his sister close behind him. An instant later, his mother leaped out of the hiding and struck the blow with such a power that he never knew of. The split second when she leaped, showed him a shiny sharp silver edge under the moon light. But that never came anywhere near them for the blow had already been struck. As if to re-emphasize her point, she struck a second blow and down the dark figure fell with a loud cry. To his horror, it was the same man with whom he played ball with...
A Change
Observing events from a distance and being in the thick of it is a difference that is as distinct as the shadow and the body. Even though many such events might have occurred and you may have got bored or it wields no reaction from within you, when it occurs to you, you might be swept off the floor. May be because you weren't prepared for it or you didn't understand it fully, yet it gives you the feeling that a drama is just realizing into an event in front of your eyes.
How strange a reaction can an emotion bring out of you… for it may surprise you in ways that you may not have known. For a person who is seemingly immune to all such emotion, an unconditional love can stir the fire of the heart. The feeling enslaves the heart with a glowing rope knotted around it. And the heart has no escape but to accept such a strong feeling and care. It compels to reciprocate… for if the heart has such amount of love as oasis in a desert, it will reciprocate.. Be it just or unjust. Upon the sun-lit earth their eyes met and spoke. Under the moon-lit sky, they heard each other. Their fingers danced to order their messengers..for they were separated by distance…but not by a great amount. But the separation, however temporary may be, made them anxious. And hence followed the rituals of talking through the night and waking to see the stars upon the stairs as the words flew into the air to reach the other's heart.
Oh! How I thought I would never come to see such a turnaround.. Yet the power to run the motor of the world is not with me to decide upon what I would see and what not. And yet it is such a drama that realizes in front of my eyes(not exactly the eyes). Still, I do not regret ay part of it, for it might make me understand better of it.
….. Wishing the very best and good luck for the bonded hearts…..
P.S. I am not in love...