Every write up in Mindset speaks thousands of those unsaid feelings and emotions; which may be simple to recognise but too difficult to live with. These write ups can remove inhibitions and stumbling blocks to rise and shine in our lives.
Sunday, 24 September 2017
Wednesday, 6 April 2016
HORIZON
Heart That Needs Heart
“My heart listens only to the music of heart. The language
of mind just forms vague images and figures which I can’t get myself associated
with. And for me establishing connection from my inside is very important”,
explained he.
He was in the
business of selling hearts. Robust and man of sugar coated words has won many
hearts because of his occupation. Like any other renowned man of caliber he too
was treasuring gems of name, fame and recognition. That’s what he had longed
for fifteen years of low profiled, low ebbed and undignified life. He was a laborer then. What he used to earn he used to consume the same day in eating
and getting drunk and used to get mingled in slumber of carefree life and never had any expectations from it.
He had no liability but he was a burden on himself.
On the onset of every new morning he used to wake up
with guilt, the biggest self invited ailment man feeds for himself. He with his
closed eyes used to find himself in the crowd of world’s second largetst
population. “What I am? I am sheer waste in the world full of best human
resources. I must gather all my capabilities to be what I am.” He started
excavating his real him. He was good in winning hearts, so he started selling
hearts.
One came with eyes filled with tears, begging to
save him from cruelty of his own people, relation of blood. They had all
discarded him as he was not as rich as they were. But they were very poor in
feelings and emotions. He was shattered when he came to the seller of hearts,
who resolved his problem by making his own family bestowing all her love on him
and for him. There was another one who came crippled, left rolling in the tides
of time and circumstances. This seller of heart solved his problem by connecting
him to a charitable organization and let his heart feel light and joyous.
There was one couple who came with heart rendering
cries as they lost their nine year old only son to the most deadly disease
cancer, and had no hope to have other child of their own. He melted and took
them to an orphanage, where many parent less and homeless small and innocent
children welcomed them with their willing hearts, and they left with smiles in
their lap by adopting three year old girl.
That was not all. A wife lost her husband in war at border;
he helped her to be self reliant for the smiles of her three kids and
forgetting her pain of losing her brave husband. He sold her the heart which
she had buried with the corpse of her husband. He only could do it in very
subtle and quiet manner. He had the magical heart which listened to the untold
stories of hearts only and to give these hearts the beats he used to sell
hearts.
The buying currency for him was his soft words and
ability to win the trust of others. People readily used to agree to sell him
feelings, emotions, sentiments at the cost of his humanitarian bent of heart.
He was not a preacher. He was not a messiah. He was not any guru. He was not a
saint. He was not any leader. He was not a priest. He had no sect. He had no
religion. He did not belong to any school of thought. All he was was just his
own self: the listener of heart and seller of heart.
People invest in movable and immovable properties
but he used to invest in making hearts, spreading smiling hearts and creating
loving hearts. He was an illiterate but he started writing a new language: The
language of heart whose alphabets were pity, compassion, empathy, sympathy,
care and concern. The grammar of this language was connection and formation of
relations only. He was so very happy to reside in the hearts of people.
Today he lies on the bed in a small hospital
fighting his life because his own heart has failed. The machine is gradually
forming a straight line but in between goes up and then down. He is in unconscious
slumber, but this time it is not guilt that is taking birth. It is now the
prideful heart: ailing but satisfied. It is going to die yet alive in millions
of hearts.
He now knows the answer to his question of who he
was. He is none other than our hearts which we have shut on the world seeing
its brutality and coarseness. We have imprisoned it behind the bars of
materialism and self absorption.
The present scenario of setting territories on the
basis of religions and prejudices is failing every effort of this bleeding
heart. Its business is now at loss. The
irony is it has solution for every painful heart but for its own disease it has
no medicine.
Will there be any other seller of hearts born to
render its self less care to heart in trouble? The blood is oozing out profusely.
Sangeeta Sharma
Labels:
ailing,
claibre,
compassion,
disease,
establishing,
heart,
medicine,
pain,
pity,
soft,
subtle,
tender
Friday, 1 April 2016
SOUL TALKS
DPS INDONESIA
“Love is surrender”. “Love is care”. “Love is
sacrifice”. “Love is selflessness”. “Love is all about pain”. “Love is
unconditional”. “Love has no religion” and quotes are endless. People take love
as per their notion and acceptance rules. To some it becomes walking talking
dictionary of words on love. Are you surprised? Are you thinking that I am
going to wrap the very word wearing attire of deception? No, for me “Love is
convenience these days.”
You are in love, right? Let’s measure its force in
your life. You have fallen in love recently and now trying to woo your partner.
You text to your partner on one of the social sites,” Without you my days are
nights and nights are days.” Your partner feels at the top of world. The
technological heart pops up on the screen. Your technological loving efforts
become part of FB messenger or what’s app chats. Love feeling words are read
within lines. Your sacrifice in love is all about blocking some not very
accepted friends by your partner and using social sites which he/she doesn’t
approve. Replying back immediately getting message, talking for hours and
sending best of images has become utmost care and source of joy. Your partner
gets angry technologically by switching off the gadget. You pine and crave and
miss his/her by becoming machine at machine. Love has become convenience in
expressions and intensity.
Love tiffs over catching you online till midnight
not with your partner but someone else take a turn of apologising and seeking
pardon for days and night chats. No ego, you know. How blissful?
The time of writing love letters by pouring your
heart full of passionate love has been taken over by “Google search Love
letters”. Its softness is all about abbreviating the emotions and feelings
attached to it in text messages. Its privacy has confined to thousands of minds
working behind the technological set up. Love has squeezed itself to electronic
gadget you are carrying and updating it as status on your FB wall. “ In
complicated relationship”, “ In love”, “ Engaged”, “ Not single anymore” and
these are not the only ones, expressions keep floating every third day rather
in some cases every third hour, the most convenient way to let the world know
about your love.
The most comfortable zone in this technological love
is “Virtual Meetings”. Just Skype and distance will not be a hurdle at all. The
plus is your date is not controlled by heavy restaurant bills, expenditure on
gifts, nice looking attires, accessories and commuting expenses in its
preliminary stage. Who has the time to run around trees and sing love songs or
sit in parks to be absorbed in its existence? After all, all those are outdated
and unconventional these days. Who wants eye contacts and real smiles on the
face when there is variety of smiles on innumerable images of emoji in your
gadget?
Love effects of sleeplessness are to getting awake
and chatting with other friends and groups. After all you have to spend quality
time with rest of the social relations. You can do it easily with your love
talks with your partner and amazingly without letting him/her feel ignored.
After all love means spending lots of time with each other and this way it’s so
easy, as easy as falling in love.
Flirt in love too is effortless. Just two windows and
the game of flirtation is on, provided your partner has not geeked on you. Do
you think I am counting the blessings of “Technological Love”? Read within
lines and translate its curses. Convenience is not wrong but its application is
wrong. Breathe love in its beauty from head to toe. Mechanical love is short
lived and full of impulsive feelings. It blindfolds you to land up in wrong
love decisions and relationships as well.
One apple was eaten by Eve and we got that curse as legacy, and one apple is part and parcel of our life which would be inherited by our children. Give a deep thought over it.Experience love in its chaste being and not in its
guised face and feel it’s convenient permanency in your life.
Sangeeta Sharma
Labels:
BLOCK,
CHAT,
CONVENIENCE,
FIGHTS,
love,
SACRIFICE,
TIFFS,
UNCONDITIONAL,
VIRTUAL LOVE
Soul Talks
He digested his unseen tears. He was not to show his
inside struggle, as he was a man. He plodded on the road which was dismal and
dark. Thousands of images were crashing and making noise in his mind. The
shadowed tree under the spell of starry night became his soul mate in
concealing his ache, the ache of love for professional upliftment.
He entered in his house which would not be his in
another two weeks. He saw at his wife’s smile less face, as she would be
leaving him to drink his ache for lifelong as part of his uncommitted remorse.
Things were out of control, as the string was in the hand of his family: family
of his wife.
He threw his limp body, with boisterous series of
his thoughts of past, into the chair. “Congratulations, Mr. Patel. We are
expecting your join on first next month. Meanwhile you start preparing for the
project.”
“Thank You Sir!” he chuckled.
He came with his mother’s favorite sweet box in his
small cottage. His paralytic father gave birth to smile on his own face after
twenty five years of his crippled, dependent and unproductive ailing life.
Ayush Patel has seen happiness getting personified in his life that day. His
mother’s swelled chest talked million of words of pride for her Son, General
Manager: Ayush Patel.
Life on roll earned him everything what his parents
desired and wished for him and kept his welfare in their blessings. He
accumulated all materialistic joys and quality time for his parents. Their
sacrifice for their son’s success started paying rewards. It was the time when
destiny showed its deformity to him.
“The project
you were given has been taken over by Ms. Saloni Yadav, daughter of
chairperson”, informed his Director to him.
“I have invested all my knowledge on this project”,
he explained.
They were not ready to listen to him. He had to
leave the company as his services were not required. He didn’t lose hope until
he saw the advertisement in T.V and magazines, “FUND YOUR HAPPINESS WITH OUR
CARE.” That was his slogan for his project. He felt deceived but not shattered.
He was clear of the exploitation of his skill.
“Hi, Ms. Saloni, this is Ayush.”There was a smug
smile on his face. She was not at all surprised. She did not offer him to sit,
but he sat confidently in front of her looking straight into her eyes. The
culprit in her made her take her eyes away on the door of her office. That was
so easy for him to melt her with all her deception. They had a deal, deal of
Ache.
He married Saloni’s elder sister, who did not know
even a word about love. Arrogance, mood swings and power of money never let
them smile. It was relationship of empty togetherness. He started suffocating.
He was in deal. He was in a fix. In office his wife’s sister was sucking all
his energies by over burdening him and selling part of his male ego each day.
At home, his wife’s self absorption separated him from his parents, who
shifted to their cottage so that he should be happy. Smile appeared to be her
life -long enemy. She became more cranky and loud. His deal was getting out of
control for him to handle. Yes, she was his deal.
“You are pesticide in my life, making me hollow. I
abhor you”, she shouted at him after throwing vase from the table on the
marbled floor. He was looking at her with his expressive serene facial gestures
and not retaliating. She was just a deal for him and she too knew that he was
sold to her. She was repenting her purchase and wanted to get rid of him. This
is what he exactly wanted.
He calmly replied,” You do that life long.” That was
taken as a curse by her and five fingers got printed on his cheeks. He smiled.
She got more furious. She took iron vase from the cabinet and threw at him. He
saved himself from the attack. He still did not lose his temper. She became
wilder. She started hitting him with her fist on his chest and tearing his
shirt. He was as calm and as composed as quiet rivulet. That was height of
patience for her. She called her sister in hustle bustle informing of he being
violent and attacking on her. He stood and listened everything smilingly.
His so called family of in-laws did not heard pain
beneath his smile. They terminated him from his job and snatched every
materialistic gains in the form of capital and assets. He was given two weeks
time to surrender whatever he earned. He was jobless, homeless and family less
person. Agony murdered his desires to be loved and to grow. All avenues of his
progress were sealed. He made nightly strolls with deep contemplation as his
routine. His solitude became chronic.
His eyes were getting closed in slumber. He wanted
to have a long sleep and merge into inexplicable. Just then a cold hand came on
his mantle. He smiled from his soul. He did not lose anything. He left
everything and everyone to narrate story of his dry tears of unsaid pain he
felt, being unloved, and above all of his sad smiles which he used to wear to
conceal his attacked male ego. His untold ache left even pain to be pained.
Sangeeta Sharma
Labels:
ache,
care,
congratulations,
fund,
hope,
paralytic,
project,
upliftment
Tuesday, 29 March 2016
REFLECTIONS
LETTER TO AGE
Dear Worldly Wise Age
Hope you are ushering gradually in my life. Today morning only I saw that grey hair peeping out near my ear.Frankly, I was not happy to see you in your first stage.The very color gave me an insight of your effect on receding growth of my molecules, cells and tissues. I call this accumulation of damage as growth as you will grow as time passes by. Should I be happy seeing you growing or should I feel sad finding myself live for less number of days and inviting some latent ailments as unwanted guests? I am in dilemma.
Its not that I don't feel happy at your arrival as you have made me more mature and sane. With you my metaphysical perceptions have widened too. I feel one with my spirituality and find emotions and sentiments taking practical turn, whose path lead to meeting with almighty. I might not be very religious till now but surely not an atheistic. I have started observing and comprehending with much rectitude and without any prejudice.
You want to embrace me with your firm hands and I run opposite to your hold as mentally I am not ready to be friends with you. Some fear of unknown insecurity grips me tight. Perhaps my adulthood needs more time to develop better quality of imagination, courage to face you and various undesirable things and above all make more choices, which I know at your advent will begin decelerating.My faculties of exploring, dreaming, discovering and inventing will sit somewhere at the corner of my neuro system. My cognitive skills will start fogging. Even my eyes will have clouded dreams. Your length will clearly be shown on my face, on my cheeks and under my eyes. Still you'll have your beauty in the appreciations and comments I'll start pocketing. You will increase my smiles in pains and subtlety in unsubtle. You will show me real behind every mask and brutality in the guise of compassionate heart. I know your powers, yet I feel so nostalgic in giving credence to your advent.
Ah! Why I find you so unwelcoming even when I know you are so beautiful in your attribute, though very ugly in your physicality? Why I make faces when you look straight into my eyes to accept the way you are? I will settle all the queries when you bloom, as I know you'll remove all my doubts then. And that's what make me feel excited to welcome you with smile on my face and anxiousness in my heart.
Please come tortoise steps as I believe in famous aphorism," Slow and Steady Wins the Race."
Yours newly born grieved Soul
Sangeeta Sharma
Thursday, 24 March 2016
SOUL TALKS
Injured Wings,Strong Will
Ten long years of brutality was born with compassionate and concerned heart by her for her husband who was a schizophrenic. Not that she was vulnerable and paltry, but her family values had upper hand than her miseries. Her two sons, parts of her flesh cemented her audacity to face all the physical and mental torture imposed on her by destiny.
Running from post to pillar to treat the one who gave her worst treatment was her solo shot, as she had married him as complete man : with his virtues and vices. Social shackles of prohibitions on women were too feeble to stop her zeal to cure the incurable. She was not doing it for herself as she was bestowed with beauty with brains, she was not doing for her sons as she is their pillar, but she was doing it wholly and solely for her other half who required his other half's help, concern and care. She kept tasting the pain with each passing day injuring the wings of her own personal aims and wishes.
He did not improve. Intensity grew in manly dominance over her. Every physical assault calcified her wifely feelings, but her motherly emotions and her own being boated her to safe harbor. She accumulated all her injuries and started healing by leaving all that was knifing her physically and mentally. Boldly she stood strong willed against time, people, society and values.
Law bowed to her for her endurance, pain and sufferings. She came out with injured wings from that matrimonial alliance which had soiled her all feminine desires of happy married life. Her two sons now become her destination. With her strong will and not taking care of her injured wings she smiled at destiny to over power its powers on her.
Through all odds she gathered all courage to be in one to one conversation with time and circumstances to show every one her own identification as bold mother. Her elder son got admission in DTU, Delhi in engineering course, guiding the younger one to follow the legacy. She proved that injured wings can't stop any one to soar high, provided one should have passion and belief in oneself.
The journey has just begun for her to bask in its all pleasures. She has bandaged her dark past with present blessings. She can fly.
Sangeeta Sharma
Injured Wings,Strong Will Ten long years of brutality was born with compassionate and concerned heart by her for her husband who was a schizophrenic. Not that she was vulnerable and paltry, but her family values had upper hand than her miseries. Her two sons, parts of her flesh cemented her audacity to face all the physical and mental torture imposed on her by destiny.
Running from post to pillar to treat the one who gave her worst treatment was her solo shot, as she had married him as complete man : with his virtues and vices. Social shackles of prohibitions on women were too feeble to stop her zeal to cure the incurable. She was not doing it for herself as she was bestowed with beauty with brains, she was not doing for her sons as she is their pillar, but she was doing it wholly and solely for her other half who required his other half's help, concern and care. She kept tasting the pain with each passing day injuring the wings of her own personal aims and wishes.
He did not improve. Intensity grew in manly dominance over her. Every physical assault calcified her wifely feelings, but her motherly emotions and her own being boated her to safe harbor. She accumulated all her injuries and started healing by leaving all that was knifing her physically and mentally. Boldly she stood strong willed against time, people, society and values.
Law bowed to her for her endurance, pain and sufferings. She came out with injured wings from that matrimonial alliance which had soiled her all feminine desires of happy married life. Her two sons now become her destination. With her strong will and not taking care of her injured wings she smiled at destiny to over power its powers on her.
Through all odds she gathered all courage to be in one to one conversation with time and circumstances to show every one her own identification as bold mother. Her elder son got admission in DTU, Delhi in engineering course, guiding the younger one to follow the legacy. She proved that injured wings can't stop any one to soar high, provided one should have passion and belief in oneself.
The journey has just begun for her to bask in its all pleasures. She has bandaged her dark past with present blessings. She can fly.
Sangeeta Sharma
Tuesday, 22 March 2016
SOUL TALKS
Making of You
We are what we have faced in our lives. Good and ecstatic moments make a happy person of us but sad and painful moments snatch all that is joyous and peaceful in our lives and give birth to turmoil of hardships and nostalgia. The process of our making undergoes a sea change.
Change is unavoidable facet of life. What exists surely has to grow or decay. Growth is what we welcome but the moment decay starts our making dwindles.We feel restless, frustrated, sad and low. After all change changes the change even. Should it root deep inside in our making to let us feel helpless and vulnerable?
Any change should not affect us like a blast. The capsule of acceptance must be gulped without waiting for its reaction on the change. After all it would be another change only that would take place. If we cure ourselves of getting disturbed, we'll through changing in our making mechanism, can win the situation. The making will be easy and as per our traits.
Our making mechanism involves making our vices our virtues, negatives as positives and pain or scars as happy moments and success stories. For an instance, oysters make pearls so that they can feel better. When a grain of sand or debris get stuck in their bodies, they ease the pain and irritation by coating it with multiple layers of nacre, the mineral that lines the inside of their shells, and pearl begins to form. Basically, pearls are like blisters, only much prettier. Thats the making of precious out of painful change.
Our pains, be it physical, mental or at social level, should rub us to shine bright and sparkling than roughing us into shattered souls with loss of morale and deteriorated strength to fight the battle against any change that changes our making. Remember our core values lie in our making of ourselves tough against all that is odd and painful.That lays the solid foundation of " Making of You......Real shiny and precious you."
Be an oyster in your making and let the change be inviting in making you....better you....the best of you.
Sangeeta Sharma
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