THE POWER OF DREAMING

Some say dreams never come true…. One may agree to it…….. True, they don’t come true. But how do you define a dream???

Is it something going on in your mind during sleep? Or is it something that constantly pokes your mind even in bright daylight and does not let you sleep?

In true sense, it’s the latter one. It’s the one which, when pursued with full sincerity, vision and willpower, transforms into something amazing and spectacular.

The world says dreamers are aimless people, good for nothing. But do they know “Nothing happens but first a dream…”. Yes, I say, dreamers are different; people with a vision, a courage to face all odds to make their dreams face the light of the world.

How many in this world have guts to kick the adverse situation of life? How many stick to their plans even after facing a good range of ups and downs? How many who don’t follow the suit set up by society norms and follow their own aspirations and what their mind says? How many shed tears in the dark, but still fight wide awake in the light for a new opportunity? ONE AMONGST A MILLION!!! Or may be less…

Why is every person in this world not born with guts? More than half of this world sleeps with a shattered dream somewhere in the core of their hearts. One fourth die in finding flaws in them…. their personality, their mistakes and their circumstances. They are born to cut a sorry figure.

It’s not every one’s cup of tea to dream big dear. You need guts….. guts to be against the odds…… to stand alone….. to take the road less travelled (sometimes untravelled)…. And definitely a strong willpower to realize your dreams and make them a reality. It does not happen overnight…. It’s a union of perseverance and hard work.

You fail because you lacked somewhere….. you fail again because you still were not up to the mark…. You fail again and again…. But the biggest achievement in life is that you still stick to it and keep trying and stand up each time you fall with more determination.

Nothing is impossible. Dream big, only then big things will come your way. Realism is a killer for personal potential. So, don't stop having big dreams and fulfilling them.

 


EVERYONE IS SPECIAL. HAVE THE GUTS TO FACE THE WORLD OR DIE WITH A BUD OF ASPIRATION WHICH COULDN’T EVER BLOSSOM. CHOICE IS YOURS…

FEAR OF THE DARK !!!

Life is a sine function as it goes up so it goes down. That day was, too, the day of heights. I was extremely elated, positive and confident. My four attempts for the highest post for the country had ended in failure, and this was the final one. A year ago I stood against all odds of my life and was determined to crack it this year.

My confidence was being reflected on my parents’ faces. My eyes were glittering for success as four failures meant to me a big success this time. I was loaded with luck- my 11 year old watch, that black sweater, along streak of tika and the blessings of the whole family. I boarded a bus to street no. 7 and then straight to the examination hall. Checking all my essentials I flashed back into the past. Those days of glory were rolling in front of my eyes. I was famous as a boy of logic at my school, which I approved by getting admission in the top technical university of the country. But this was the start. I started preparing for exhaustive post of the country. Four futile attempts had shattered me into pieces. But my family stood as a pillar for me to prop. For me “sky is the limit”. I wanted to change the destiny of the country but today my own was hanging in the balance. Then the approaching steps of the invigilator brought me back to the present. “O!!! What a paper…. I can do it in half the time”. I geared up towards the questions. But ohh!!! This is the same question which consumed my whole time last year (the root of all evil) I knew it this time but……

And then my negativity invaded my positivity. The pen was moving just to move. My past overtook my present. I came out of the examination hall……. Blank. Last attempt gone……. 5 years of life……. In vain!! I was shocked to the extent that I could not even cry. I was walking with the crowd but without any aim. From street no.13 I went into an underground tunnel. It was dead calm, still as if time had stopped. I too was walking sensefully. I won’t go home I decided; I can’t face my parents. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn’t realize that my mobile phone slipped off my hands. But suddenly, I noticed a flash of light on the walls of tunnel. I rushed towards the flash instead of picking my mobile up, which was throwing that glittering light on the wall. I had come back to senses. Touching that flash I broke into pieces with a thundering cry. I rolled my eyes over the surroundings. It was dark, all black, and one spot of light was making the difference.

This took me to my world of reason. With tears slowly invading my cheeks, I thought, this dark can only give way to light. Those who live in life only fear of dark! Why is this dark cursed? It shows you the importance of light. Why people avoid this tunnel, not because it is uncomfortable to walk here but because they fear of dark or actually the darker side of life. Those who don’t, actually win even after a big loss. Life is better than a teacher. A teacher teaches and then keeps the exam. But life keeps the exam first and then teaches the lesson.

OK! If life is dragging me back it must be launching me into victory. Now that dead calm meant silence to me because my heart was smiling. Always when we lose, life seems to come to an end as it was for me but then hope says ‘one more time’. Picking up the mobile phone, I rushed to the flight of the stairs, to go back home.

My parents were standing with a curve of smile and loads of expectations. I replied with a fake smile. Though no conversation took place but the thoughts were exchanged. I looked into their eyes, those were saying
“IT DOESN’T MATTER YOU WON OR LOST. WHAT MATTERS IS THAT YOU ROSE WITH TWICE THE CONFIDENCE WHENEVER YOU FALL”.

With my head held high, I looked into the sky. It looked new, fresh as if it was smiling. Everything was new to me as I had conquered my fear, THE FEAR OF THE DARK!!!

Survivor- the fittest

It was a slow rise of dawn, the dark of night sky was fading into the gradual invasion of morning glow. Apart from the herd, she was here, in solitude bidding goodbye to the florescence of moon. Soon a shadow came over; it was huge covering the vastness of her sky.

He stood tall, a golden brown giant with fiery eyes. On the spur of the moment the world turned upside down for her. They had an eye lock, where the electromagnetic beam of his line of sight was burning her eyes in fear. The axons didn’t respond! Or better say, a brown black female impala with an average built had lost her senses when a South African lion mirrored her.

He took a silent, imposing step ahead. She went numb, frozen, cursing her existence to bear the agony of its monstrous end. Before she would step into the state of mental trauma, his ear piercing roar hit her senses as if iron was being beaten on a giant anvil.

The hit was hard. It stirred her soul to the core. The sudden impact worked as a wakeup call. She was no more of a forlorn. Her eyelid raised, and the dark iris penetrated the sight of the beast of prey.
Before he could understand her fortitude, she responded…
With a step to her left and he followed her to his left. The sequence continued and soon both had a 180 degree flip. And it was true in all aspects. The exchange was not only in position but also that of psychic hold.
He found the instant valor of the timid creature as something hard to digest. But the mind games still were on…

A step straight right, he aped him in wrath. Then one straight back, he followed her. Now one somewhat tilted to right. He again….. and…… “aaahhhhh”.
A sharp spine hanging from the wild bush pierced his eye membrane and his built dismantled on the ground in pain.

“Yeah” was the subconscious reaction for her! The instant plan went like clockwork for her. Without wasting a single moment she wan rock hard for her survival. Within a few minutes, she had left the frightening beast miles back. Her stride was cheerful, and soul thanking the supreme power for all that happened. It happened for good, something that was to be written in the impalian history with the letters of gold.

She stood erect and her head bowed for the almighty “the win is of your existence, for making my morale stand high, for respecting the importance of my being in this world of yours” she thanked.
But Mother Nature had different rules…
A sudden grab from her back clutched her tight. Before she could come to a conclusion, he batted her hard with his front paws, and she hit hard on the ground. A blast of sand dimmed her vision. Soon, the mist cleared. It was surely not the same giant. After all, there is no dearth of predators. The dawn was finally overtaken by the first drop of sun.

A massive, fatal dig of his claw and left her at last gasp.
Was that survival of the fittest?.... might be!
Or better say survivor is the fittest. And rest all history.
Nature has firm rules, mind rules over matter, but still matter matters the most. A good omen is not always followed by knock of good time. A moment is momentary whether a win or a loss, happiness or sorrow. The continuity of time is discrete and no single fraction of second has impact or relation with the other. And why not? After all, it is the uncertainty of life which makes it beautiful, and each moment precious as gold.

PS: the use of he, she and other expressions is just to make the composition humanoid.

THE MIDAS' TOUCH

“I was, I remember, I waited, and…..” she sighed. “….. and what……. Oblivion?” I said. She turned and smiled, “no, I am…….” Her words left me questioning and I added, “Sorry, I couldn’t get you….”.

“It feels as if it’s an eternal, comfortable halt of time, an inseparable part of my being and trust me, I’m okay with it”.
I walked out of the room without a word, with my mind stepping into my subconscious world of reason, all the grief was washed in the flood of her pain. I flashed back to the hours of my ‘hectic’ Sunday morning.

I had woken up with a pile of books over my head and rushed for the breakfast leaving my messy cubbyhole as it had been. On the way I measured, as usual, the pros and cons of life- where I had been ditched, where I had gone wrong, what the future undertakings would be, blah, blah, blah… and that was the time my cell buzzed. It had been an old friend calling up for a coffee together. I too had become nostalgic. “Fine, CCD at 4, sharp!” I had said. But he interrupted, “No, you come to the hospital, we’ll walk to the place”. “Okay”, I had agreed and disconnected the call. A 4:03, I walked up the stairs of the medical giant of the city, ignoring the inevitable truths of life. I geared to his chamber but it was then it happened.

I paused, took a slender tilt, and was spellbound. It was a general ward and a divinely charming face, a heavenly smile that drove me steps into the ward. She gave a sweet smile to the nurse but the busy bee took no notice of that. It seemed rude anyways.
I flicked through her files and shivers rolled down my spine….. age-28, disease- a long biological term I couldn’t even pronounce. “Hello!” she said, “I suppose the nurse has left but I can still feel someone’s presence, may I know who is that, please?”
I drew near, she was blind! I took three steps backwards and cleared my throat that had almost choked. “I am sorry, I was just…”
“It’s okay, people rarely peek into these grave wards,” she cut me in.
“I am getting late, my friend must be waiting.”- I was almost about to say this but my lips virtually paralyzed. There was an obvious inquisitiveness bubbling in me, but her soft words dismantled the guts I had built to uncover the truth. I stood erect as time kept running like water under a bridge. Minutes passed by…
“Are you still here, do you want something?” her voice broke the silence.

My curiosity ruled over my honesty and the truth and I responded, “Actually, I was just on a survey for an interview, may I have one from you?”
“Surely, you may.”
“So, I went through your file, for how long have you been admitted here?” my intonation was not continuous and a shiver ruled it.
“4 years or so,” she replied.
Soon, her affirmation revealed her past. I could extract from her words that her disease was not as simple as blindness; she was suffering from a slow failure of senses, or better say, of the nervous system, when any nerve of her biological circuit could fail anytime. And 6 failures she had already gone through. One being that of the optical nerve, of course and the other major ones were those of smell and touch. This further took me out of my so called senses.
But you always have a cell phone to get back to this world of people.
“Hello, where are you? I have been waiting for the last 10 minutes!”
“Later!” was all that I had said before simply disconnecting the call.
“You can leave, actually. I don’t know why people have to lie when the truth is so simple.”
Her words took me by surprise.
“It’s not that only journalists have the right to explore people…. And people like me who are research objects for the biggest brains of the country are made to be explored.”
I was dumbstruck, but her words cleared the mist of discomfort between us. Finally I summed up enough courage to solve the conundrum for which I had sacrificed my childhood mate’s precious call.
“How did this happen, I mean, the first time you……?”
“It was a conference on green engines on Germany and I was to present papers challenging the ruling green engine…. You remember 1.4ltsi of the giant VW?”
I replied with a nod….. a pause…. And then, “Hmmm…”
“It was then, five minutes before the conference, I couldn’t feel my hold on the papers. That presentation was my midas’ touch,” she sighed.
“The result of 5 years of sheer hard work! So, I neglected the fatal symptom. Soon, I felt I hadn’t put on my clothes, a few steps, and I couldn’t feel the reaction of ground and….”
“And what?”
“The rest is all history, history I care for as much as I cared for the history in my secondary textbooks.”
I could see an abstract grief in her crystal black eyes for missing that presentation.
“So touch was the first sense targeted,” I tried to engage her more on her physical discomfort as I found that it was less painful to her.
“No, it was the sense of not feeling those papers in hand. One hole in the can is enough to spill the milk. Once it’s made, rest makes no big difference.”
“You mean your senses hold lesser importance to you? Now that’s not realistic, sorry to say.”
“Of course, I did not say that. But some things in life, though materialistic, hold great importance and in these 4 years I have turned more meaningful leaves in my life than I did in the years of my Bachelor’s degree! And trust me, losing the sense of touch is a living enlightenment. Although the loss of sight brought a little discomfort, it takes me to my own world of existence, my dimensionless space- a space without photons, without the semi-factual theory of relativity, a world where I don’t have to lie on the fake foundations of axioms to explain my findings…”
She continued with her more meaningful outlook and I listened and listened and listened….
Suddenly, she paused, “I feel it’s been a long time. You should leave….”
“But I want to hear more from you,” I protested.
“Thanks a lot for sharing your time. I have never spoken this much in the last 4 years, but you should return to your ‘world of worlds’.”
“It’s hard to believe how a person can sum up her life in just a smile, remembering each big or small event…” a nudge from a ward boy brought me back to this ‘world of worlds’ as she had said.
I had a day with reason and the next morning was all the same, except…
“Oh! my mobile,” I said as I remembered that I had left it in her ward, on the table.
I rushed to the hospital and soon stepped into the ward.
“May I have my mobile please? I suppose I left it here?”
She smiled in the air with an indication that I was challenging her failed senses by asking for it. I picked my mobile up from the table and “hope we meet again” was all that I could conclude with.
She had an unchained pull that wished to say something, but I thought silence was more comfortable.
On my way down the stairs, my ears raised to a conversation-
“What about ward no.33?”
“I had thought that with 6 senses gone she would die of the mental strain, but after losing her voice last night, she’s still struggling with the wrath of nature… miraculous!”
With so many strokes in just 24 hours, I had virtually lost my senses…
That proposal was not her midas’ touch. It was her fight for existence that lost sense of touch which was emerging each moment, as a midas’ touch for her.

ROGER FEDERER- A Magician, an artist, a genius and what not?

Who hasn’t heard this name? If someone hasn’t, then he can be considered to be unaware of the happenings in his vicinity.

A magician, a genius, an artist, probably the god himself at work on the tennis court. You’ll fall short of superlatives when you see this man play on the tennis court. In fact, even Shakespeare would have fallen short of words if asked to describe him. You’ll envy him when you see him on the battlefield (yes, his battlefield is the tennis court). His composure, cool, temperament……everything about him is just so perfect.

This great, yet so humble, man known by the name Roger Federer, is popularly called ‘Fed-Ex’ or ‘Federer Express’ or ‘Swiss Maestro’ by his fans. He has won 16 Grand Slam singles titles (till the date of writing this article. This got to be mentioned because he is simply unstoppable), more than any other male player. Federer's versatility was epitomised by Jimmy Connors' statement: "In an era of specialists, you're either a clay court specialist, a grass court specialist, or a hard court specialist...or you're Roger Federer."

On getting the privilege to see him play (well…yes, it’s actually a privilege), one realizes his artistry, the aura of this man, the atmosphere he creates when he steps on the battlefield with his array of shots. He is just invincible. Hemlock, A crowbar to the knees, Locusts- To most tennis fans, these might seem like the only ways to topple Roger Federer, arguably the greatest tennis player of all time. These are times, as you watch the young Swiss play, when the jaw drops and eyes protrude and sounds are made that bring spouses in from other rooms to see if you’re O.K. The moments are more intense if you’ve played enough tennis to understand the impossibility of what you just saw him do. It’s like something out of “The Matrix.”

Talking about his shots, he has got them all in his arsenal; too many shots, too much talent in one body. It's hardly fair that one person can do all this—his backhands, his forehands, volleys, serving, his court position. The way he moves around the court, you feel like he's barely touching the ground.

Federer is an all-court player known for his fluent style of play and shot making. Federer mainly plays from the baseline but is also comfortable at the net being one of the best volleyers in the game today. It seems as if the net is being guarded by The Great Wall of China. The ball just doesn’t wish to cross it. Federer’s forehand is a great liquid whip, his serve has world-class pace and a degree of placement and variety no one else comes close to; the service motion is lithe and uneccentric, distinctive (on TV) only in a certain eel-like all-body snap at the moment of impact. He is often able to produce big serves on key points during a match. His anticipation and court sense are otherworldly, and his footwork is the best in the game.

He is barely human when it comes to defense. He seems to return everything that comes his way down the baseline. He moves like a fluid on the court. Every player on tour would love to smack more winners than Federer. But trying to outshoot the game's most graceful shooter is like trying to out-jump Michael Jordan in his prime. It just won't happen.

As graceful an artist as he is on the tennis court, no true artist paints with two hands. The grace with which he hits the backhand, a one-hander that he can drive flat, load with topspin, or slice — the slice with such snap that the ball turns shapes in the air and skids on the grass to maybe ankle height, it can’t get any better. It attracts admirers. And that backhand slice……..WOW!!! It’s the most admired shot in tennis. He deprives the ball of its pace, thereby teasing his opponent and thus forcing them to make the error by opening up the court for this master to hit the ball with extreme brutality.

The angle that he generates when hitting shots leaves everyone wondering whether he’s got a sextant in his hands. ‘How can someone hit that shot with so much accuracy and precision?’ It leaves the opponent gasping for breath. ‘What can one do when your opponent plays such marvelous tennis?’ He is able to see, or create, gaps and angles for winners that no one else can envision. All this is true, and yet none of it really explains anything or evokes the experience of watching this man play.

His between-the-legs backwards cross-court winner against Djokovic (which was awarded as the best shot of the year 2009) still mesmerizes you.

The only way left to beat him is to take him to a restaurant and put a little hot tamale in his food.

After achieving so much in life, probably almost everything, he’s so humble and generous. That speaks volumes of his grandeur. His unusually steady and mature commitment to his girlfriend (now wife) makes every girl wish for a partner like him. He's a real person. He's not an enigma. Off the court he's not trying to be somebody. If you met him at McDonald's and you didn't know who he was, you would have no idea that he's one of the best athletes in the world. His politeness and frankness have endeared him to the tennis fans. He’s the king of tennis arena!!!

INCREDIBLE INDIA???

India is like a sari- a colourful paraphernalia of different cultures, races and religions. It's a place where knowledge runs deep and values are held high where culture is seated on the lap of honour. It's the land of great sages, the birthplace of discovery and enlightenment. But nowadays, all this takes a back seat when asked to describe our motherland.

If asked to pick some extraordinary quality about our country, it most certainly has to be politics and corruption. Oh come on, India is known for its corruption. we top the chart of least corrupt countries from bottom. Isn't that an achievement? To call ourselves least honest is million times better than being called the most corrupt country in the world. The aliens also visit this planet frequently in search of a country named India, wherein they seek some corruption tips. We all follow Einstein's theory of relativity perfectly well, by getting our relatives into the pay roll.

The entire Indian political system suffers from an unknown virus that reduces accountability; of course general population of the country cannot question the decision taken by a politician. The insecurity and fear of confrontation with political goons coupled with a corrupt police and lethargic judiciary are some reasons for this. Most other democracies, besides resisting the concept of dynastic succession in politics, resist the inclusion of criminals as well. We are above such petty traditions that limit the boundaries of individual freedom. We have to show the world how it should be done, gone ahead and given a standing ovation to candidates who combine both these qualities. Divide and rule is the new cool. World like unity and national integration have slipped into obsolescence. Why learn from the West. We don't care about Germany uniting or half of Europe become European Union. After all we are the smartest race in the world. let's have a new slogan: be Indian, break India.

Indian road rules broadly operate within the domain of karma where you do your best and leave the results to your insurance company. Just trust your instincts, ascertain the direction, and proceed. Adherence to road rules leads to much misery and occasional fatality. We enjoy the world's first mass transit system where 'mass rules the road'. People here have got such a strong stimulus that they can react to an approaching vehicle just nanoseconds before being run over, which shows our expertise in the Doppler's effect.

We have got the best neighbours that one can hope for. On one side, we have Pakistan- such a determined nation that it never gives up. China is like our brother but we seldom talk. Nepal- their soldires are trained in our country but still prefers to take sides with the 'not-so-talked-with' brother. The only thing of some respite is that India is a peninsula.

Then we have Bollywood- the largest producer of flop films in the world. I personally love Bollywood but it comes with a bitter truth that it does produce more flops than hits. Basically it helps in giving employement to people which would otherwise amount to labour problems in our country, which in turn would lead to an exponential increase in the population, thereby adding fuel to the fire.

Railway journeys here are known for the exclusively soothing and phenomenal images that are offered early in the morning by the track sides. You just need to peek out of the window. The stations are so clean that even the flies and the cockroaches are apprehensive of conquering that arena. During your journey, you get to hear the enchanting and soothing music and voice of the chaiwallahs, giving the best of the singers a run for their money.

India is also a land of babas- The number of babas in India are inversely proportional to the numbers of tigers (only 1411 left). Each and every channel is flooded with them in the morning. That is the time when you realize the myriad of babas here. Perhaps, some time back, people used to become a baba to take refuge from work to find some peace and solace but now it has become more of a profession.

We have the most efficient and hare-footed judiciary in the world. It takes only an aeon to take decisions. Courts are only interested to try the matter in decades to generate vacancies and giving long dates even beyond one year so that clever people/advocates lodges the complaints to settle the score behind the courts i.e. Temple of Justice being used as a tool or even weapon to perform the legal murder with the help of money to involve advocates, judges as active participants and enjoy MERA BHARAT MAHAAN, INCREDIBLE INDIA, SATYA MEV JAYATE AFTER DEATH. Laws are made for rich; Courts and Laws are not made for innocents/victims. Everything's possible with money.

How long are we going to bear all this? Don't we all envy other countries and say "Look, so and so country is so clean. They are so honest that they don't even count the money that the shopkeeper gives in return. They are no. 3, 4 etc.... in the list of least corrupt countries."

Even the Almighty has given up now!!!

Is this what we call an Incredible India??? Think about it. It's time to wake up now and do something.......... :-|

AMAZING, ISN'T IT?

Can anyone apply Kirchhoff's laws to these two pictures (had to write pictures because I myself couldn't locate the nodes) ???
If there's anyone, please feel free to provide your solutions here.......... :-P