CHERISH with HARISH

POINT ONE Anoop and me travelled to Adalaj, a small town 20 kms from Ahmedabad. It has vav or stepwell built in the 16th century. It's believed to be an architectural wonder, which goes 8 stories below ground level. As we started going down it started getting cooler and more importantly, quieter. As we went down this lack of connection from the upper world made the vav calmer. Another thing which worked in our favour was that Anoop and me were not talking to each other. We were quietly clicking pictures. We were left with ourselves and the vav . We reached the base, the best point of the structure. Immensely positive with a very cool and silent ambience. The only thing which we could hear was the sound of pigeons flying in and out of the step well. We thought of sitting there quietly for sometime. After about 2o minutes a bunch of irritating local tourists entered. There were about 15-20 youngsters. They were constantly talking, but it all got worse when they started shouting. Th

He walked across the river, into the wild. He didn’t know what was right and what was left. He didn’t know and he didn’t WANT to know either. He could have stopped at a wise man to see the exact picture of his destination. But somehow, he didn’t want to see it. He was scared that it might be different from his imagination. And if it was better than his imagination, he didn’t want to be over-confident with the sight of those visuals. It was amazing. For a long time, it was the destination which he looked forward to. But that day, out of nowhere, he realized that it was the WAY, which he was enjoying more. So, he kept walking - learning things,smiling at the trees on the way, absorbing the vibes, hugging the needy, admiring the patterns of the sun rays, drinking the sweet water at the river… he kept walking. As time passed, he got so engrossed in enjoying the way, that he thought less and less about the destination and learnt more and more from the journey. One day, he reached the destin

Dressing room at Bade Mama's place. Pen on paper.

ghar ke neeche, peepal ka ped...

This is the first image of Bhagat Singh I saw in my Class 7th Social studies text book.

My bicycle ride to Army School every morning, in Mhow, Madhya Pradesh.

My grand ma- AAJI.

NID's BBC at 7:00 am- pen on paper. I had put my clothes for washing in the washing machine under B hostel. I had nothing else to do. So, I did this.

y Pen stand- Charcoal on paper.

Daud ke bhaagi hain sab, Wo behri, painee awazein, Wo ghayal kar deni wali gati, Kisi Anjani ore badhta ye kaafila… Har raah par ek chaah, Aur har chaah par ek prati-spardha. Har pratispardha, mein ek vijeta aur anek parajit. Sar utha kar mann aasma se poochta hai, ‘Kaisi chah? Kaisi spardha?’ Aasma kehta, Pehle na thi aisi chah, na aisi pratispardha, Par phir bhi the anek vijeta. Kisi anjani ore badhta ye kafila… Na soch, na samajh, Na Sabr, na na such, Na sehensheelta, na muskurahat, Bas haar, ya jeey. Par kaisi jeet? Kiski jeet? Kaisi haar? Kiski haar? Aankhen oonchi kar, aasma mein THEHRAAV aur shanty ko dekh, Ji khush hota hai. Aasma muskurakar kaehta, Ek waqt tha, Jab dharti par bhi, Ye sab hota tha. Ek waqt tha… Kisi anjani ore badhta ye kaafila…

The world, a whirlpool of emotions, And an ocean of expectations. When I open my eyes to decipher the simple codes, The complexity of the world takes everything away. When simple and happy curves can solve things, Why do they use tough straight lines to complicate problems? I say, ‘Look at the stars, they’re beautiful!’ But every time, they stop looking after the clouds. They reply, ‘the clouds are too dense for them, VISIBILITY is hampered.’ Thinking simple has become so tough.

Woh subah-subah ki geeli os mein, muskurate hue kaapna. uss kad-kadati thand mein, garma-garm khana kha razai ki khushiyon tale dab jaana. TV par nyunatam taapmaan dekh, thand ka achanak badh jana. Un mushkil se dikhne wali dhoop ki kirano ko, aankhen moond gale lagana. Inn yaadon ko ek potli mein baandh, sang rakhunga apne, wo pal waakai mein the, ya the bas Dilli ke dikhay kuch sunahre sapne? Farvary ke aate hi, sheher ke har phool ka achanak khil jana. Har chowk-chowrahe par inn rango ko dekh, maano mil jaye pyar karne ka bahana. Garm kapdon ka dheere-dheere bakse mein chale jaana. Fiza ka, nayee kitabon ki khushboo se bhar jana. Inn yadon ko sarhane ke neeche chhipakar rakhunga apne, wo pal waakai mein the, ya the bass Dilli ke dikhay kuch Sunahre sapne?

In a world, big and huge... Where are the similarities...? I am from Asia and 'you' are from America...Division! I leave that discussin and come back to Asia...I look around, we are all Asians. But i am from South Asia and 'you' are from the West. I chuck the debate and reach South Asia. I breathe in ...feel good, We are all South Asians. We are one...NO I am from India and 'you' are from Pakistan. We argue and we fight. I leave the debate and reach India, my motherland, my nation, my heart! Phew...no more divisions...We are all Indians... But no, I am a South Indian and 'you' are a North Indian I am a West Indian and 'you' are from the East, or from the North East. I leave this debate too and come to Gujarat, where I am presently staying...All Gujjus? NO! I am a Kathiwadi, you are from Saurashtra..Hindu-Muslim... Parsi-Sindhi... Too much! I enter the NID gate and feel relieved... All NIDians. Great... But not really! I am from A-hostel, 'you

"Why do people fall in love? Why don't they RISE in it ... ;)

"We all have points to make... but no one joins the points to make a line!"

We always notice them, those shiny little beads, falling from our eyes. We see nothing before that, nothing after that. We never see the hurt eyebrows, coming close to each other, contracting in space, making the eyelids blink more. What we always see, are just those shtiny little beads, called TEARS. We never see the tragic frown, formed on the forehead, trying its best to hide the sadness. What we always see, are those shiny little beads, called TEARS... We never see the Adam's apple, moving up and down, fighting with the choked feelings, trying its best not to show those shiny little beads called TEARS. We see them flow out from the edge of the eyelids, flowing down in a line, those shiny little beads called TEARS. But we never see the pale cheeks carrying them, which were red cushions because of smiles, Do we see them Those pale cheeks? We never see the brave jawline, on whose edge, those beads balance themselves, and then fall off, disappearing into memories, fading out . Do w

"Unfortunately... we all know everything...except the act of saying 'I don't know'!"

'Wish I had a camera, everytime i saw beauty!'

Sometimes, things in life are so well planned that you are left in awe of the 'person' who's designed it... Last friday was 14th August. It was Janmashtmi, the day of MATKI-PHOD! I had never been a part of the brave pyramid which tried breaking the Matki, tied metres above the ground level. This year,for the first time, I joined in. The place was just under my hostel and the people in the pyramid were young men like me. It was fun... Holding each other tightly to make a good base... standing on shoulders with unbalanced expectations... heavy drops of water falling from the sky, shaking the pyramid every now and then... all of us falling down and rising again... It was fun! We all started with it at around 11pm, and by 12 I was tired, hurt and exhausted. But still, there was something, which drove all of us to get up and try again. May be it was the MATKI, or may be, it was just the fun of climbing up and falling down, with smiles we will remember for the rest of our lives!

“Get up boy, it’s 6:30 already!” Shouted Pa. Vivek hated this line from Pa more than he hated the alarm clock. It was a pleasant Saturday morning, the fifth day of Vivek’s summer break from school. With eyes half closed and feet trying to balance his body, Vivek reached the window. With his left hand he pushed it open. The lovely morning breeze entered Vivek’s hair. It refreshened him enough to open his eyes. The very smell of that breeze brought him back memories of his last summer vacation, when he was in class 3rd- going out for morning walks, watching ‘Disney Hour’, lying down on the floor with the cooler throwing ‘fresh’ droplets of water on his face, having those sweet yellow mangoes in the evening, playing cricket with one-tip-one-hand rules and... “Vivek, you still not up? You’ll have to complete your ‘cycling’ thing today!” Pa shouted again with a volume good enough to break those happy summer diaries of Vivek. ‘Cycling?’ Yes, that was one thing Vivek was trying to learn from

When do we sleep? When do we get up? What are dreams? The ones we see while being asleep or the ones we reach out for when are awake? What are dreams? What is peace? The feeling of going deep into slumber or that satisfying smile after helping a poor soul. What is peace? What is comfort? When we lie down on a flat surface to close our eyes after a tiring day or when we stand up and stretch after sitting on the same chair for the whole day? What is comfort? Are we asleep while being awake or are we awake ahile being asleep? The music which hums in the space, is it because of the peaceful night, or because of the feeling of succeeding in a day of HARDWORK? What is more scary? The nightmares we see while being asleep, or the feeling of being LOST in a world where everyone KNOWS you? We sleep to take a break from being awake, and we wake up as we are TIRED of sleeping! When do we sleep? When do we get up? When do we sleep...

I live in a body, which works for my mind. I have a mind which lives in my body. I have a heart which lets me love my mind and my body! All three work to take me forward in life. I walk, i run, i sleep... i thank my body, i thank my heart and i thank my mind too. After all the hard work, sweating and running, i read somewhere that this LIFE IS A LIE! Is it? i dont know.My mind, body and my heart would not work so hard, just for a LIE! I can agree that it is a rehearsal or a training period to learn something, which is more important than life, but this life is definitely not a lie! Afterall, rehearsals are very important for the final show; training is very important for the war! You work more in a rehearsal, than in the final show. Don't you? i LOVE THIS lie... I'll continue working hard and I'll continue loving life... I'll continue rehearsing hard, 'cause this rehearsal is the most important one for me! I live in a body, which works for my mind. I have a mind wh

Rohan sat in front of Sheetal with folded hands. He wondered if it was the worst moment of his life or not. Sheetal was looking at the cup of coffee in his hands. She had tears in her eyes. She could not cry aloud, as it was the canteen and she could not be quiet as it was hurting. It had hurt her really hard inside when Rohan told her that he had started liking someone else . After being in a relationship for more than a year, it was difficult to hear such a thing from the person whom she had loved the most. There was stunned silence. They were not talking, but still everything was being communicated. It was the weirdest of communications; the communication through little gestures- of hands, frowns, eye-lids, lips and may be the vibes between them. To break that communication for a second, Rohan lifted the cup to have a sip of coffee. As he started gulping the hot sip, his eyes met Sheetal’s. They were red, with the veins crying on the white surface of the ball. T