Gaurav the writer#

सच क्या है और भ्रम क्या कभी जानने की कोशिश की है आपने? सच और भ्रम में सिर्फ एक बारीक सा फर्क है. आप है ये सच है और आपसे दुनिया है ये भ्रम है. सच ये भी है कि आप सिर्फ अपने आपसे प्यार करते है अपने आप कि चिंता करते है और अपने ही कर्म फल को भोगेंगे, फिर भ्रम ये है कि लोग आपको चाहते आपकी तारीफ करते है और आपको सम्मान देते है. हमारे सामाजिक और पारिवारिक बंधन सिर्फ एक जुड़ाव मात्र है वास्तविकता में ये सिर्फ माया और भ्रम है. जिसे आप दिलोजान से चाहते है उसका असमय चले जाना आपको विचलित तो कर देता है परन्तु क्या वास्तव में आप उसी के साथ अपने जीवन का अंत कर देते है नहीं न. यहाँ सिर्फ अंत रिश्ते या जुड़ाव का होता है न कि आपका. आप सच को आत्मसात कर लेते है और जिंदगी फिर उसी पुराने ढर्रे पर लौट आती है. जुड़ाव सिर्फ छणिक होता है क्योंकि यह सिर्फ एक भ्रम मात्र होता है और जिस तरह ज्ञान का उदय होने पर अज्ञानता मिट जाती है ठीक उसी तरह सच का ज्ञान होने पर अज्ञानता रूपी भ्रम का अंत हो जाता है. जब तक आप दुनियादारी और लोगों के जुड़ाव को वास्तविकता मानते रहेंगे आपका स्वयं से एकाकार नहीं हो पायेगा और जो व्यक्ति स्व

What is first, second or third; love is just love. Does it make any sense as how many times you fell in love? I never carried the hatred and jealousy with lost one and every time I encountered with someone new I tried to improve myself. The one who stopped committing mistake learned nothing new. Every time I had something new to share with. Was commitment everything I was craving for? Perhaps no, love is free with no limitations and boundaries and I never drawn any either. An un-communicated yet understood threshold was always there. The tag line was beyond the apprehension from single, committed or taken but UNTILL YOU LOVE ME . Should I be worried if someday my love will be gone? No, certainly not set they free or you will suffocate them. Remember how people keep beautiful birds in cage to tame them and no longer have they lost its sheen. You cannot make someone yours when you cage them, you simply own them or possess them. Vandalizing love for the sake of owning it, does it ma

Few people are just born fortunate; inheritances, credentials, skills, opportunity, love and so on. Keep adding adjectives. You love someone fight for her with families and when everything was almost poised you realized that it’s gone. You question yourself; was it everything you were fighting for? Dreams smashed, bruises of pass by days snatches the complacency. Not on   your   tintype ……………………………..and it’s over now. You were making castle in the most beautiful part of your world and sooner you find yourself adjunct in the end of the world. You repent over and over again; being good was a choice but not the option. Life slams the door and darkness prevails. Justifying good self; and demeaning other’s shortcoming. Life isn’t good as it presumed in books, psalm and in dreams. It’s like a computer game that cheats when you are almost about to finish and to reach to the next level. 

Welcome to the graveyard of memoire, you won’t find the closed gate or the decoration of any kind. A thin pavement filled with dust of gone by years and enormous foot prints of known and unknown would pave you to the memories of the sleeping people. Some of gravestones are imprinted with name and years on it where as few are unrecognized. The shape, size and texture differentiate them; few are as fresh as they have been buried off late and few struggling hard to be remembered. It has never seen the happy faces or smiling attendant. Every worldly prompt and parade ends here. Although it is always busy day and night with the visitors and attendants. Flowers and garlands often decorate either the new one or the one that never forgotten.

"Five spelling error and unfathomable sentence formation; and you still boast off to be a good writer.  I am not sure how come you write such great things if I presume what you said are true. Unfortunately you don't meet my expectation, so forget about writing assignment. I cannot keep my organizations and personal image at stake. You might have plagiarized from somewhere.” The prospect meeting and my would-be boss collided with my credentials; having extinction of all the possibility of hope and recognition. And my confidence and experience stumbled upon. I know that I might not be good enough to scribble it but that is what we have technologies to ease for. I tried to explain it, now a day’s who does prefer to scribble in note books. My answer was making somewhat sense but he was stereotyped of what he had learnt years. The second main concern was the apprehension of my writing. Yes I too believe that at time it doesn't make sense (at least to amateur readers) and m

The Evidence If you think you will kill someone and bury it for years, mind it, you can escape days and years but not forever. Truth will come out and the earth and sky would witnesses the crime. The longer it remains silence the painful would be the punishment. No crime is evaded forever, nor the guilty. Even the secret association of migh ty and the dirty game of politics cannot save you.                                  Between Scylla and Charybdis Years hand on experience, learning and best practices developed after several years of hardship finally comes to an end when a hara-kiri decision of leaving the organization appears in the mind. The surprising factor comes with a blow to change your world for now and perhaps forever. Was it the reward of my loyalty and sincerity I always practiced? Were all the recommendations and appreciation mere materialistic? Should I cry or move on? The selfish and crooked face of associates was unveiled.             

Once bitten twice shy, well said and explained indeed we appreciate it. I wish I could practice the same. All the hatred and envy I gathered in years just cast away in the first rain of gratitude. Shall we move on? I asked my inner self, the crackling sound of a broken heart seems too fragile that it was almost a miss. I moved ahead burying my forgone pride and prestige for good. The soul was left behind and the body moved ahead; a body without soul???? Yes similar to the meeting of Dhritrastra with Bheem after the decease of his loving son Duryodhan. I couldn’t understand as why I buried the hatches when it was perfect timed to retaliate. In search of mine I looked in mirror and he said:- I don’t know you, your face might resembles with someone I knew years ago. But he has been assassinated and became victim of blind trust. From then I have stopped believing humans I reflect what they look like not what they are. How does it feel to kill someone? I had no answer but I avoided h