Strings Of Life

In a group of four they set to live a day.
A day of freedom, a day of their complete self.

There were moments of happiness, moments of silence,
moments to think of nothing, moments to worry about nothing.

Sitting by the hill top they viewed world and discussed life.
Taking dip in the cold stream they washed their worries and redefined happiness.

But then the day was bound to end, a time to return to their respective nests.
With hand in hands and shoulders to rest upon they wished these moments never end.


~A day I’ll never forget.

Posted by: Sunil Parashar at 12:50 PM | Tags: General, Musings, Poems, Poetry, Travel | 59 Comments | Email This BlogThis! Share to X Share to Facebook |

Bhola! So you are busy enjoying your cigarette here. Who’ll serve the breakfast?
Coming Sahib {Sir}! ~Replied Bhola.
Adjusting the cigarette between his pale teeth Bhola headed towards his masters room.

Bhola! These days you are not paying attention to your job. Is everything fine? Sahib asked Bhola.
Yes….yes Sahib, replied Bhola, and his face reflected deep melancholy.

What’s the matter Bhola?

There was a pause for a moment and Bhola started:
Sahib! My Biwi {wife}! Again there was a pause. Finally clearing his throat Bhola started: Sahib! My wife has made the world impossible for me. She rarely talks to me nowadays and when I’m back-home after a days work, she doesn’t even have time for me. There was rage in Bhola’s voice and the Sahib listened patiently.
Bhola went on….: Sahib! Sometimes she turns out so grouchy that I feel like running away from her.
Did you ever tried to find out the reason behind this? The Sahib asked.
I tried Sahib; every time I ask her she reiterates the thing that: I don’t love her as much I used to at the time we got married.

The Sahib thought for a moment and then spoke with an authority.
Bhola, I think she is right. ~There was bewilderment in Bhola's eyes.
The Sahib went on…: How strange that love between a couple starts dying as their relationship progress on. And the object once most cherished becomes an object of disinterest. Why Bhola why? Have you ever asked this to yourself?
This happens because any relationship, be it that of husband-wife or friendship needs rejuvenation time and again. We start taking things for obvious, but don’t you think that after a days work when you go home there’s someone who probably might have worked more than you did and that individual also demands attention?

But then Sahib, doesn’t one get habitual of the same face-the same person? Bhola asked.Isn’t it that a person is always enthusiastic to make new friends? Isn’t it that we are least interested in books we’ve already read and are excited about reading new ones?

A point well asked-Sahib replied. It’s true that we are enthusiastic in meeting new friends and exploring new books. But don’t you know that in the end only rare books manage to become your favorites? A good book enters your heart, soul, and mind. Stays there forever and time-again makes you think about the philosophy infinite hidden therein. The more you think about, wider horizons you explore and the more you expand. Same is the case with relationships. Remember Bhola; Life is expansion under the arms of your beloved. So this time you go home remember to keep the person awaiting you in mind and rejuvenate your love.

It was third consecutive day and Bhola didn’t turn up for the work. Finally there was knock on the door. A stranger stood asking; Namaste Sahib {Hello Sir}! Bhola went with his wife to her parents place. He’ll be returning after a week, till then I’ll manage the work. May I ask you one thing Sahib? And Sahib nodded.
Sahib, are you married?
The Sahib couldn’t hold his mirth and smiled……..a smile which conveyed nothing.

Posted by: Sunil Parashar at 8:57 AM | Tags: General, Literature, Love, Musings, Stories | 32 Comments | Email This BlogThis! Share to X Share to Facebook |

He locked himself in the dark room-dejected, disheartened.
Maybe, the price he paid for nothing was very high.
He thought about the struggle, the pain, the price and the fate.
But thinking brought nothing but more pain, more disheartening.

And then there was knock on the door.
A stranger stood asking:
Hello Friend! May I share with
you, your sorrows and my happiness?

He embraced the stranger thinking:
Whoever you are, whatever you are,
Wherever you came from,
You are a friend sent my way.

Posted by: Sunil Parashar at 5:55 AM | Tags: Friendship, Musings, Poems, Poetry | 33 Comments | Email This BlogThis! Share to X Share to Facebook |

In the journey named life we often come across situation when we have to make a selection-selection out of two paths available for the unknown destiny. It's hard to choose because on one side there are expectations and duties on the other are things you like-things you love doing.

If you follow the first path, you come up to the expectations of the world and hence become a success in the eyes of people concerned with you. But if you hold the later one-you meet failures in the first path {which you've to trudge non-willingly}, hence life results into a chaos.

It's really hard to decide whether strike a balance between the two or keep following the path you love.

Posted by: Sunil Parashar at 12:45 PM | Tags: General, Musings, Views | 24 Comments | Email This BlogThis! Share to X Share to Facebook |

“Is it all you want to say?”-She asked him. Still he was silent and dormant. She couldn’t guess what was going inside his mind.
It was moment of their departure-the time when so called friends forever had to move their ways. The train blew its last whistle still he uttered nothing. And this was not what she had anticipated about their final departure-their separation. In the very heart of her heart she knew that “there is something unsaid on the other side, but what is that?”

And slowly the train started pulling out of the station. She was fixed to the door and her eyes reading his. But she found nothing…….. At one moment she thought why after all am I trying to read something? As the train started pulling faster he started running along her compartment and finally held her cold hand in his but then destiny is a big thing- separation was bound to come.

As the train bid goodbye to the station she couldn’t stop her eyes getting wet. One question constantly reverberated her mind: “Why didn’t he utter even a single word?”
And she felt something in the hand he had held for a moment at the station. It was a piece of paper which read: “Sometimes in life we want to move ahead but our past so strongly clings to us that we become oblivious to the voice of our heart. I would have uttered the voice of my heart but then that would be a selfish thing. Because I know you have a bright world awaiting you and I have darkness of my life to take care of. If I ask you to accompany me to carve out the darkness of my life, I would be spoiling your brightness.
So I wish ……you move ahead.”

Her eyes wept uncontrollably………………..
With wet eyes she asked a person standing nearby: “When will the train reach next station? I’ve something………….

Posted by: Sunil Parashar at 5:31 PM | Tags: Friendship, Love, Musings, Poems, Poetry | 35 Comments | Email This BlogThis! Share to X Share to Facebook |