Chalta Main Rahu

Uss chalakti baarish ki boondon mein bhigta hua main chalu,

Tere chode hue saaye mein dhundlata hua main chalu,

Uss gham ke dariye mein tadapta hua main chalu,

Uss raat ke andhere mein raah dhundta hua main chalu,

Uss khamoshi mein chilata hua main chalu,

Unn aasuon ke parde ke piche muskurata hua main chalu,

Uss bhid mein tanha, main bikharta hua chalu,

Tezz ghadi ke khilaaf tehelta hua main chalu,

Hai yehi zindagi ka pehlu, aasaan nahi hai kaatna samay yahan,

Kamzor kare mujhe yeh zamana par sar uncha rakhkar chalta main rahu.

Inspire-on

There come times in life when there seems to be no way out. The darkness is all there is around and not a single bead of light leads into the future, showcasing a pathway, or showing a road into approaching times. That is the moment when you need an insight, you pray for a way to materialize out of thin air; or for an angel to just pop out to take you across; that is the moment you need hope, you need a push to complete the leap of faith across the crevice.

There have been times of turmoil for me too, but there is one person I shall look up to forever. The person in my life who has been gifted with wings instead of legs, his gab so strong that it compensates for a disfigured voice, and a will which stands strong against all obstacles- my uncle.

Being bound in a wheelchair is not an easy task, but my uncle doesn’t have an option. Well past 40, he is a distinguished figure in Malayalam cinema, a critic, with writing as one of his most treasured hobbies. Hobby? Yeah, he works full time at a firm as well, and in the remaining time, he writes reviews and along with that he manages to find time to follow sports and to read as well.

From his childhood, he has worked hard along with the incessant support of his family to reach this pinnacle of success. Reaching such a high station with cerebral palsy pulling him back into the shadows, my uncle has set an example for me which I cannot forget. Be it a thought misplaced, or an idea not working out, or an assignment too boring to copy, the hope and the will to go on is supplied to me by him.

We feel laid back, and we stop at the tiniest of injuries in life, but he raced through the path of life with his set of problems held in a bag so tiny that it would go unseen if they weren’t visible physically. With a mind so sharp, he single handedly earns for the house and come whatever may he never walks away, oh excuse me, glides away on his wheelchair, from a challenge.

This is a story I have in my family, a person who lends hope and optimism in quantities we would never have in our whole life. Having him at my side has been a great help, and I must say that he has been the one to show me around the world of literature. As a blogger, I have obtained a lot of inspiration from him to keep going on, during writers blocks, and bad blog times. And to be honest, there was a time when I wrote more just to get past his number of blog posts.

Well, he is one person I look up to, and his story gives me a lot of hope and inspiration to head into the future with all my guns blazing.

To find more inspiration to look up to, click here (https://housing.com/lookup).

Radioactive

There are those moments we have,

There is the good and there is the bad,

There are some that we savor,

And some we wish never happened,

There is calm, and then there is the storm,

There is the silence, and then just uproar,

And then there is light in the darkness,

It’s not about the color, nor is it about the vigor,

It’s all just radioactive.

There is the seen and there is the unseen,

There is love, and then there is a void wide,

It’s not the same ever, it’s different always,

The moments are varying with the tick of the clock,

There is a past so vivid, so dangerous in memory,

And then there is the future blurred and dreary,

It’s not about what is visible, and what passes without registering,

It’s all just radioactive.

There is a poem, and there is a poem,

There is literature, and then there is a story,

There is my story walking majestically past,

There is me and there is you,

Lines parallel yet crossing each other, intertwined,

There are those meetings, and then there are those fights,

There are the smiles and then there are the tears,

There are the coy hugs and then there are the pushes away,

There is the world and then there is us,

And we are radioactive.

A Journey

Life is an array, a mixed bag,

It’s a collection of good and bad,

It’s like the summer which has rain,

There are thoughts overflowing,

Wishes appearing, disappearing,

It’s a journey, life is,

It’s about waking up to something new daily,

Seeing the sun, the moon, the clouds,

With a new zest, a new zeal,

About holding together the vigor,

And making it last, till the last moment,

The people are like passengers, in this bus of life,

They get in, and they walk out, unquestionable,

Some stay, some don’t, and so do you,

It’s up to you to hold back, and wait,

To mourn the loss, or to walk ahead,

To hold onto the bar in front,

To prevent the fall at the next turn, at the next bump,

To greet the newcomer with a smile,

Or with the tears of the past,

You change buses, and you get off where you have to,

You don’t wait, that’s all there is,

It’s never about the destination,

All that teaches you, moulds you for the future,

Is the journey, and that is all that matters.

The Last Hurdle

Life is short, it just goes by,

With all its color, and the shadows,

It stares right through, tearing apart,

Clenching from the soul,

Awaiting the fight to go on,

The words on paper glisten,

The fresh ink gleaming on the parchment,

Weary are the hands, heavy is the head,

Just the toll scribbling has on us,

Celebration awaits, a party so magnificent,

Held away just by the couple,

The couple of time and the last hurdle,

It’s the last fight, the last stand,

One last jump to make for the year,

A push before the New Year slows down,

A rush before the calm of the New Year sets in,

It’s a funny feeling, of excitement and anxiety,

Of fear and hope, of curiosity and desire,

The passion pushes on, a kick to strive,

It’s a one way street- exertion,

And it’s just for a day, a moment, a time,

Just the last time, one last time,

Before the end of the year,

One last stand, one last fight, one last hurdle,

Then no more,

No falling, no slipping, no going down,

Up is the way, and it’s new.