Comedy of errors

to relent is fun...to surrender is funner, even more so when u know u just can't get enough of. History sure has a way of repeating itself. when u consider it lost, it just never happens. N m left to wonder, why? why now after all these years? My life hs bn a whirlwind of overwhelming events. some good, some bad. Sometimes, m too numb to react to things n its interpreted in any which ways. Am i fuelling the fire? i sure hope not. As if it was not enough already, i find myself torn by indecisions. But where does 1 draw d line? 

Nagging thots keeps me awake at nights. All the 'what ifs' comes alive in the recess of darkness. I need a closure to it all. But how to go about it? Do i really need a closure? I like the thrill of d unknown but m afraid to venture. I need someone to guide me thru but mayb not. I wud rather stand at d crossroads alone than wanting someone to share the same fate of uncertainty. Whatever befalls on me, one thing is definite that m carrying u with me to my happy place. If not u then the brief interludes n sweet surrender of ur smile for me. Forever.

Don't ask me to relent now. We ve come so far. Unreasonable as it is, it is futile to ask me to give u anything. I have given evrything thr ws to give. 

Let me gaze at dawn without 

LiFe As I kNoW iT....

Hope is a good thing...may be one of the best things that we humans have been bestowed with....we always ignore that good things do not always come like storms....there is no bolt of lightning....it comes in the form of drizzle....drip drip drip.

But the ever greedy species that we are, we choose to ignore the quarter of happiness that we get in want of more, much more...the never ending search for happiness goes on and on...that includes me too....i have always lived by the rules of playing the game where i have hoped against hope....never had time to look back and cherish the moments of happiness that crossed my path....foolish that i was and still am...but i do try and remain hopeful and positive still....realising that only way to remain happy is not going after it but waiting for it only when i think that i have done something that should be rewarded justly...we make mistakes again and again and so have i....but the best thing to do is to revel in not committing the very same mistake twice...

During my boarding school days all i did was wait...to go out in the world as soon as possible...not realising that it was sort of a home to me...and rather than cribbing i could have done things differently...causing troubles always....it was as if i was fighting for something which never even existed....if only i could turn back times....i could have studied more rather than wasting time on nuisances that i was always upto....could have changed few things about myself and others around me...but all in all those were the most beautiful and carefree days of my life.
During my college days i wanted to return to my shell of a school again....why? i know now because i was terrified of coming out in the world and things that i saw around me....frienships were redefined....n yes you can only make everlasting friendships in school....outside that you can only dream about true friends...but still i made friends in college whom i treasure and respect...but i learnt about other kinds too whom i called friends and who brutally murdered my trust and loyalty...those i forgive because i was naive....n i wish them the very best...also learnt its very important to forget and forgive....world has no place for people who remain stuck in the past follies but those who rise on the occasion and face those follies.... n yeah i did that too.

The concept of love in this world is utterly absurd...give and take is love...making out is love...long phone conversations is love...long drives is love...possesiveness is love....etc etc...I learnt it the hard way....but no detail here.Only thing i learnt is 'what was yours that you lost?'Companionship is what matters the most.
For today its enough....should get back to work.

Half Man, Half Boy

The average age of the army man is 23 years. He is a short haired, tight-muscled kid who, under normal circumstances is considered by society as half man, half boy. Not yet dry behind the ears, not old enough to buy a beer in the capital of his country, but old enough to die for his country.
He's a recent school or college graduate; he was probably an average student from one of the Kendriya Vidyalayas, pursued some form of sport activities, drives a rickety bicycle, and had a girlfriend that either broke up with him when he left, or swears to be waiting when he returns from half a world away. He listens to rock and roll or hip -hop or bhangra or gazals and a 155mm howitzer.
He is 5 or 7 kilos lighter now than when he was at home because he is working or fighting the insurgents or standing guard on the icy Himalayas from before dawn to well after dusk or he is at Mumbai engaging the terrorists. He has trouble spelling, thus letter writing is a pain for him, but he can field strip a rifle in 30 seconds and reassemble it in less time in the dark. He can recite to you the nomenclature of a machine gun or grenade launcher and use either one effectively if he must.
He digs foxholes and latrines and can apply first aid like a professional. He can march until he is told to stop, or stop until he is told to march. He obeys orders instantly and without hesitation, but he is not without spirit or individual dignity. His pride and self-respect, he does not lack. He is self-sufficient. He has two sets of combat dress: he washes one and wears the other. He keeps his water bottle full and his feet dry. He sometimes forgets to brush his teeth, but never to clean his rifle. He can cook his own meals, mend his own clothes, and fix his own wounds. If you're thirsty, he'll share his water with you; if you are hungry, his food. He'll even split his ammunition with you in the midst of battle when you run low.
He has learned to use his hands like weapons and weapons like they were his hands. He can save your life - or take it, because he's been trained for both.He will often do twice the work of a civilian, draw half the pay, and still find ironic humor in it all. He has seen more suffering and death than he should have in his short lifetime.
He has wept in public and in private, for friends who have fallen in combat and is unashamed to do so.
He feels every note of the Jana Gana Mana vibrate through his body while at rigid attention, while tempering the burning desire to 'square-away' those around him who haven't bothered to stand, remove their hands from their pockets, or even stop talking. In an odd twist, day in and day out, far from home, he defends their right to be disrespectful. Just as did his Father, Grandfather, and Great-grandfather, he is paying the price for our freedom. Beardless or not, he is not a boy. He is your nation's Fighting Man that has kept this country free and defended your right to Freedom. He has experienced deprivation and adversity, and has seen his buddies falling to bullets and maimed and blown. And he smiles at the irony of the IAS babu and politician reducing his status year after year and the unkindest cut of all, even reducing his salary and asking why he should get 24 eggs a week free! And when he silently whispers in protest, the same politician and babu aghast, suggest he's mutinying! Wake up citizens of India ! Let's begin discriminating between the saviours of India and the traitors!
- Flt. Lt. Rajiv Tyagi (Rtd.)

breaking free

Goodbye to u n all your dreams
all i want some to call my own
a dream that i can live n share
make my mistakes n learn from them
offer no more those gilded shackles
i am free to dream n intend to be so
to dream a dream of cobwebs of life
to dream a dream of pain and joy
a dream full of distress
a dream full of love
a dream that explains why i exist
a dream that shows me way through the mist
that's all i want a dream to dream
a dream to call my own
a dream to call my own
so now m breaking free n belong to my own...

lonely

I tread alone when i can walk with you
i perceive the sorrow n i know its true
never imagined to be a loner
but loner i am by choice n care
too long i cried not to be left alone
but there were you all deaf n drawn
i don't need you to hover around
just need you to listen to my inner turmoil
why should i trust a second time
when i know its not worth a dime

All people dream, but not equally.Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their mind,Wake in the morning to find that it was vanity.But the dreamers of the day are dangerous people,For they dream their dreams with open eyes,And make them come true.