Write ups ...

"An unread book doesn't do good to anyone. Stories ensue within the
wits of a reader, not amid the typescript printed on a page."

--
hamza ..

Just Have Faith...

"Only if you have existence and gasp, have faith... Have faith for
those who cannot.. Have faith albeit you have stopped believing...
Have faith for the sake of the departed, for love, to keep your heart
thumping, have faith... Never give up, never despair, and let no
secrecy perplex you to a conclusion that mystery can't be yours..."
--
hamza ..

The thing called conscience...

Ever gone through this circumstance when you are required to keep your
lips shut and you still keep on trickling out words...?
There are actually two basic conditions which make us do these things.
One when you're unable to hang up your antagonism and the other, when
you show pointlessly too much of care. And both of them deplete you
off your self-esteem and way of life. It is said that one must try and
ignore things that they know would lead them to both anger and
disparagement.
Actually everybody knows what makes them angry. This is one such thing
that should be evaded as much as we can. Anger leads to abhorrence and
we all know what hatred has led people to, in the epic history of this
world. An angry man is like a black sheet of paper. Whatever we try to
write on it, would disappear from sight eventually though it still
exists there and it would only be visible, with the gradual course of
time, when we face it to the sun at some particular slant, at some
particular position. But, this will only be realised, when the anger
is already done with its obliteration.
But anger can be handled by just one antonymic act... Silence ... the
golden thing that would remain visible even on that dark sheet.
The other condition is what we call the Superfluous Care. Everybody
faces this, and not just once but, inestimable number of times in a
lifetime. It begins when others rely on you for a diminutive thing and
you begin to believe that you are their eventual caretakers. A
feeling, that brings a smile on your face and countless number of
thoughts in your mind.
Human beings are one of a kind. The ones we love, we love incessantly
and the ones we hate, we hate nonetheless as much.
We show concern for the ones who we believe are ours and put across
whatever they ask for. We believe they live in our hearts (though we
know practically that our hearts contain only blood; idiots as we
are!!).
We put in all efforts to make them realise that we care, just for that
little smile on their face, irrespective of what the consequences that
our effort, the act, might lead us into. But, we do not realise this
unless they slam this statement of ignorance and ill behavior. They
start behaving like they could control every action of ours,
"Ascendancy" as we call it. And why should they not...? Isn't this
what every human being craves a lot about...?
We all are humans and we all do have faced this, sometimes being at
the giving end and sometimes at the receiving end. We have...
Let's put an end to this ... Let's listen to our conscience that we
usually slaughter for both anger and stupid care...
Let's care for the ones who altruistically care for us and noiselessly
slam the door on those who desire supremacy...
This is how we will attain what, beyond doubt, is ours and live this
little life contentedly and in the warmth of that love and affection
we only dream about...
And there will be life ... in bliss...

--
hamza ..

The Happy Man ...

it was said it is a myth ..
to see a happy man ever ..
he's born with tears ..
the agony and pain he knows ...
he grows with a burden ...
to carry his life, his life with others ..
he works and works and works hard ..
and works and works and works even harder ...
to earn to earn to live ...
to sustain his life and everyone in it ...
he grows and grows to marry one day ...
just with a thought that the burden would be shared ...
lest he knows what he's to percieve ..
another person, another burden in addition ...
to carry along, all his life ..
and some people say, even hereafter ...
and this spree of sadness ....
does never die although he dies ..
so a happy man is a myth ...
a myth .. a myth .. a myth ...

--
hamza ..

The Three Old Men ...

Ever thought what's going on inside this mind that has thought
endlessly for over a half a dozen decades; those eyes, what they
percieve after having seen this world almost completely; the soul that
is so immersed in the tie between this material world and the
hereafter.
As I sat in this public park, I somehow, though I most often ignore
paying heed, overheard a conversation between these three elderly
people. All of them unaware of each other. This happened to be their
first meeting together though I could make out that the one wearing a
turban (Nehru type) and the one with a brahmin look seemingly were
familiar to one another.
And here they discussed every sphere of life. The ups and downs each
one had faced. It was strange that they were curious to know each
others fate, evident enough from the attention that the other two paid
when one of them would speak.
But actually what fascinated me was the last part of their discussion.
It was the brahmin who raised the topic of how he met his wife and how
he fell in love with her. The hardships he had faced to attain her and
what hurdles he overcame in the quest. He began with a quote, lovely
lyrics of a lovely song sung by kishore kumar, " aisa koi saathi ho,
aisa koi premi ho; pyaas dil ki bhuja jaaye..."
With this song, which happens to fascinate me too, I sensed a sudden
flush of interest in their conversation.
As he enjoyed his tale oration, I could feel every bit of it. He
enunciated that he fell in love with a muslim girl, swearing that he
never would touch her, proving his honest love and righteous feelings
for her.
It was a perfect tale with every bit of emotion attached. The british
court laid the foundation of their marriage when they had to face
opposition from the two sections of the society. And as soon as he
spoke of his marriage, I could feel the smile and joy on his otherwise
wrinkly and old looking face.
But his married life could last only two years. She gave birth to a
baby boy and left for the heaven abode. This man thus survived by a
lone son. And then, he began telling about his hardships and ill fates
that compelled him to part himself from his son.
He left his son in an orphanage, to grow up, while he worked day and
night for him.
And with a sob, he declared as to how his son denied him when he went
back to take him, with his last statement being that his son is now a
very rich man, and still hasn't accepted him, though he sits in this
very park everyday just to have that one glimpse of his son who takes
a walk each day in this park.
Finally, the sob just disappears into a smile as a very fat figure
walks by ... his son ...
love just can't finish off as easily...
Its divine ... and will always remain divine...
#truestory

--
hamza ..