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The Unheard Voices | Short story 6
The Unheard Voices | Short story 6
Somewhere in the midst of the chaos what is missed, are the voices which smoothly flow down through our way without disturbing us or making their presence felt. The beauty of life is to live these unheard voices and feel that living. In this generation of ours, the feeling is what we crave for as that is the thing being missed from our lives. We are able to see, observe and understand what is shown to us and we conclude. We miss understanding the feeling of the unseen part, the unknown truth, and the unheard voices.
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The walk in the metro is clustered by the fights and laughter but what is seen yet ignored are the eyes of the guy sobbing for his lost job, the girl crying on the last seat for the fight she had with her boyfriend. The bargaining with the roadside vendors is something we notice but fail to observe the happiness in their eyes when they earn.
The glare of our parents is taken as a sign of their anger but what is missed are the tears in those eyes when we achieve something in life. The father who gifted his son a new bike on his birthday got his sons’ happiness but what the son failed to see was the money that he had to borrow from his neighbour for the bike. The schoolboy rejected the geometry box which his mother brought for his studies and asked her to replace it with the one his friend was carrying. What he failed to understand was the mother was suffering from asthma walked 2 km to get a new geometry box for her son and saved 5 Rupees of the rickshaw.
These voices are loud and more painful than laughter and fights. But they affect adversely. They impact deeply. They make us realize that apart from the thoughtless discussions, meaningless laughter and the aimless vision which we are chasing and going out for are not the only ones that define the living, the actual one lies in the unheard voices which we should look for but eventually fail to appreciate.
@ramta jogi
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कश्मकश |Hindi Poetry
कश्मकश | Hindi Poetry
Bhula nai mein use
Ab bas yaad nahi karta !!
Un lamhon ko fir jeene ki,
Ab fariyaad nahi karta.
Jab uski hasi ki kami khalti hai,
Hasi ke naye beej bo deta hun,
Mayus hota hun, yaadon mein jab,
To panno par hi ro deta hun,
Uski aadat to hai jeenme aaj bhi mere,
Par zehen mein use ab mehsus nahi karta,
Bhula nai mein use,
Ab bas yaad nahi karta !!
Uska khayal jab ata hai,
Unhe khayalon mein kho deta hun,
Jab puchta hai vo sawal mujhse,
To use jawaabon ko saup deta hun,
Dikhta nahi kahin vo mujhe ab,
Na hi ab main use milne ki ummed hu rakhta,
Bhula nai mein use
Ab bas yaad nahi karta !!
Vo jo tha nahi mera, use khone ka gham kya,
Jo likhi gai thi kisson mein,
Us kahaani ka hota hi ant kya?
Mila jo rahon mein, vo rahoon mein hi choot gaya,
Chauhrahe pe kahin, vo alag raston pe mud gaya,
Vo dekh piche de gaya, ek muskaan,
Rakta hun use apne seene mein, par uske ab khwaab nahi dharta,
Bhula nai mein use
Ab bas yaad nahi karta !!
कश्मकश | Hindi Poetry
@ramta jogi
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Take Care! |Life Blog
Take Care | Life Blog
The free flow, the collision and the flowing back; the water created all the chaos but still at that moment it was silent. The night was endearing. The sparkling brightness of the stars was at its peak. The moon blossomed adding to the beauty of the night. In the white mud with tiny pebbles scattered all around, they breathed a pleasant air which the water brought with its flow. The beach was creating magic. Everything around them was perfect.
In the white gown wrapped around her body, with a golden bracelet on her one wrist and a beautifully designed watch on the other, mascara decorating her eyes, she was sitting there and breathing the air of happiness and freedom. Her face was glowing seeing the rush of water touching her feet. Each time the drops caressed her feet, chirpy laughter with an everlasting smile came to her face. She seemed like a small girl clapping and laughing in her own joy irrespective of what was going around.
And there he was, sitting in the white shirt perfectly ironed and tucked in the elegant black pants. Both hands in the mud to lay support, he was continuously looking at her and living the moment. Her laughter kept a continuous smile on his face. He too was living the moment in her. They knew what was to follow and but they did not want to think about it. It was their day and at that time it was their moment which they were living.
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Soon she turned her face and saw him watching her. She stared for a while and laughed. Seeing her laughter he smiled again. Their faces found it difficult to turn around and look towards the sea. As long as they looked towards each other, even the time found it hard and difficult to move on. A sudden wave of cold breeze finally made her turn around; he still held his face the same.
The silence was not killing the moment, instead, it was making the moment and was taking it to the new highs. Her hand waved to let the particles of mud move out from them and her eyes started gazing on her fingers. She smiled seeing her engagement ring and started playing with him. Even in that dark hour, her face was glowing. In the same moment was heard a deep sound of a train horn followed by a movement of the train. The rails were expected to be nearby.
Finally, after taking it out and wearing again, she fixed it in her finger and gave a sudden look towards him. He was still in the same posture smiling on her very actions. He was very much aware of her playing with the ring.
“I think it’s time to go”
she said in the most innocent voice. And without any reply, he stood up and gave his hand to her to do the same. They started walking. Finally getting their legs wet on the seashores, they made their way towards their car.
The car stopped outside her place. He sat there without moving out. She silently went to her gate and turned back, asking
“Will you be there for?”
“No. Leaving tomorrow. Don’t know when I will return” he replied even before letting her complete the question.
With a goodbye smile, his car left. She stood there with a smile on her face and tears in his eyes. Somewhere down in herself, she knew this answer.
Years later, the same old city of their welcomed them. In sophisticated dresses, poised etiquette, and formal smiles they met again. In a function filled with many of their known, they met each other. She was joined by her husband and he was their still alone. They faced each other and were not able to talk. Both had stories to tell, memories to share, emotions to show and words to flow. But nothing happened. The eyes were beginning to turn wet and lips went numb. The relation between them was yet not defined but now it didn’t matter even. Before the eyes start to flow its emotions out, they both decide to bid again a goodbye with no hopes and expectation to meet again.
“Take care” both uttered the words together
Somewhere between the deep chaos of the waves and the deep silence of the continuously murmuring people at the function, they knew that their love has survived the test of time.
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Childhood | English Poetry
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An Open Letter | “Why Don’t You Call Nowadays?” | Life Blog
An Open Letter | “Why Don’t You Call Nowadays?” | Life Blog
Backdrop..
There is a nameplate hanging outside my home which has my parents’ name on it. This place is safe, surrounded by love and trust and there is a feeling of contentment. It has an aura that drives away fear, divine power in it. It entrusts me with the confidence that if everything in this world were to go wrong, this place would never let anything happen to me. My family, these are the people who knowingly or unknowingly have shaped who I am. They have totally dedicated their lives to my upbringing and betterment. We might call it ‘responsibility’ that every parent carries but that too comes out of concern, and such concern comes out of love.
As I grew up, I began to connect with others. I moved out, met new people, understood new things and experienced a different world. Once we start thinking for ourselves, things can’t remain the same; they have to change. I too started realizing what is right and useful for me. My family also supported my views and helped me make decisions that would boost my future. With a practical approach in mind, I moved out to climb the ladders of success in life.
I left this safe and secure dream world, my world, and entered into a world which I never imagined would be so big and so different from mine. From the safe confines of my private walls, I moved to this labyrinth where it’s easy to get lost. I moved to a different state and a brand new educational experience. This world was filled with new experiences, and I faced new circumstances every day; some even challenging. I made many new connections; a plethora of information blew in my face like a strong wind.
New Beginnings
The beginnings are always difficult as I missed everyone back home. It took some getting used to, for me to moved ahead. My best friends called me every day, and I called them back too. My parents called me every evening and would emotional. They’d ask even the minute details of how I spent the day and I obliged them with it. I’d asked them about life at their end, and they talked about things familiar to me, making me feel at home even in this strange new place. I took to the social media more than before to keep in touch with my kin and friends.
Alas! The constant nature of change is what tends to work against these connections. Change tends to break them, but this is involuntary. When one has taken the effort of coming out of the comfort zone, one tends to focus more on this effort, and this may us lead to a disconnect. We get lost in understanding and deciphering this novelty of a world that we’ve entered. The phone calls we made every day are now less in frequency. And this happens from both ends; mine and theirs.
We expect that they will contact us while people back home expect me to make the effort, but we both lose it. My father calls and asks “why don’t you call nowadays?” And I don’t have an answer to it. Even my friends and loved one’s message saying “Dude! You have changed a lot. You don’t even text or reply on time”, and again I don’t have an answer to it. When this happens, one tends to become an outsider.
But the truth is “I am not an outsider”.
It is not that I want to behave the way I behave, it is the environment and the thoughts that separate me from what I was and what I am about to become. It is not always the work or hectic schedule of mine that keeps me away from talking to my family and old friends. In a way, this is newfound freedom and I am busy utilizing it. I prioritize indulging into this freedom more than the constant need to keep in touch. The occasional drink, the rare indulgence in smoke, and of course there is the workload. Why shouldn’t I explore this freedom? I do remember them, but by the time I want to call them, it’s too late in the night and then it’s not an appropriate time, and people think I have changed.
But I have not. I have only taken charge of my life. After living in security for so long, I have come out and taken the charge of securing myself. I am dependent on “ME”. My mother’s not here to ask me what to have for dinner, nor is my father here to ask me what to bring while returning home and nor do I have any siblings here who will help me with my work. I am an individual who has come to create his own identity. I have an agenda here; this keeps me occupied. I may forget about them now and then, but do miss them.
I am still the same insider.
At times, I do miss them and get frustrated being alone but these feelings rise and die within the confines of my new, temporary accommodation. Nostalgia keeps me from even listening to their voices sometimes. This dependency on my parents who raised me, the friends who were always there, that girl who always spoke to me for hours but it seemed like minutes; this dependency is what I’m trying to end. Of course, I am desperate to see them again, be home for the festivals and during the holidays.
Who doesn’t?
But you change. You get used to living alone to the point that you actually prefer it. I prefer the solitude the crown has to offer. No one comes to talk to you if you’re not “alone”. I have tried to purge emotions so that it gets easier for me. And then I asked myself a question. Who am I without my parents, friends and that one girl? I got busier trying to find my identity, and it all soon became easy and found myself. I had to dissociate first to find myself and in this process, I became an outsider. Well, better the real me outside than this shadow of a person I was inside.
The truth is that in this self-discovery. I have realized that I just have different sides to the same person who lived in that place with his parents’ name plates on it.
@ramta jogi
Published in Youth ki awaaz
An Open Letter | “Why Don’t You Call Nowadays?” | Life Blog
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For more poetry, @ Ramta Jogi Poetry
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Bachpan | Hindi Poetry
Bachpan | Hindi Poetry
Vo sham ko ghar lautna, ek sukoon tha,
Ghar pauchkar khelne jana, ek junoon tha
Piche se maa nashta khilane ko daant rehti,
Hum to bagiche ki aur bhaagte rehte ,
Pure din ki thaakan gayaab si hojati thi,
Sari takleefiyen us khel mein kho jati thi,
Thake hare ate ghar jab,
Garam pani aur tauliya taiyaar milta tha,
Nahate hi, maa ka pyaar khaane mein beshumaar milta tha,
Fir TV ke saath thoodi aankh micholi hoti thi,
Papa ke ghar ate hi, apne kamre ki taraf humari dooli nikalti thi,
Kuch pal apni kitaabon ko jab dete, aankh jhapak si jaati thi,
Bin kuch soche , bin kuch samje, Bin kuch jaane, bin kuch mane,
Apne aap hi ek sukoon ki neend aajati thi
Ek sapne ki tarah , har pal sufiyana tha,
Kuch aisa hi mere bachpan ka zamana tha,
Aaj sab sukoon se dur hue bethe hai,
Apni aadaton me mashghool hue bethe hai,
Bhatak te hai tanhaah khudse,
Neend ko taraste, majboor hue bethe hai,
Yaad hai sabko vo khel kud, vo school vo tiffin,
Vo kal ke pal jo the koi soch koi samaj ke bin,
Jab jaante nahi the duniya ki samaj,
So sara samaaj hi apna tha,
Samaj ke ane se samaaj se hi dur hone lage,
Sab kaam us umr me bhi khatm hua karte the, bin jyada soche,
Jabse sochne lage, kaam adhure chutne lage,
Bachpan chood , bade hone ki zid thame the,
Bade hote hi bachpaan ye yaadon mein khone lage,
Zindagi mein aaj bade hote hote, bachpaan bhi kho bethe hai,
Par na jane kyu fir is aaj ke dar se,
khud ko us bachpane se dur kiye bethe hai?
@ramta jogi
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Childhood | English Poetry
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For more poetry, @ Ramta Jogi Poetry
