Thursday, May 14, 2009
At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race, to the finish, and win. All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over, and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. Then they all turned around and went back. Every one of them. One girl with down's syndrome bent down and kissed him and said," this will make it better."
Then all nine linked arms, and walked together to the finish line. Everyone in the stadium stood, and cheered; the cheering went on for several minutes.
People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down, and changing our course.
This story on the olympics may not be quite right, but its all about getting you and me to take a look at life and put it into perspective. For example, (in d words of a close friend of mine).. "I call my mother every day, that’s because my father has died and I will never be able to speak to him again, I did not speak to him enough when he was alive, same goes for my elder brother who at 26 died this summer, I regret not calling him every day." So this story on the 100m dash is not about true or false.. it's about how you look at the story and to show that it is possible to be competitive and human at the same time. Now go.. say hi to someone you should have said it to already.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
surmayi se andher ki chaadar hata ke
ek parbat ke takiye se,
sooraj ne sar jo uthaaya, toh dekha
dil ki vaadi mein chaahat ka mausam hai
aur yaadon ki daaliyon par
an-ginat beete lamhon ki kaliyaan mahekne lagi hain
ankahi ansuni aarzoo,
aadhi soyi huwi, aadhi jaagi huwi
ankhein malte huwe dekhti hai,
ke laher dar laher...
aauj dar mauj, behti huwi zindagi hai.. !!
VP.. d warrior
(Vikas Pratap Singh)
Thursday, May 7, 2009
koshish karne walon ki kabhi haar nahin hoti
Nanhi cheenti jab daana lekar chalti hai,
chadhti deewaron par, sau bar phisalti hai.
Man ka vishwas ragon mein saahas bharta hai,
chadhkar girna, girkar chadhna na akharta hai.
Akhir uski mehnat bekar nahin hoti,
koshish karne walon ki haar nahin hoti.
Dubkiyan sindhu mein gotakhor lagata hai,
ja ja kar khali haath lautkar aata hai
Milte nahi sahaj hi moti gehre paani mein,
badhta dugna utsah isi hairani mein.
Muthi uski khali har bar nahin hoti,
koshish karne walon ki haar nahi hoti.
Asaflta ek chunauti hai, sweekar karo,
kya kami reh gayi, dekho aur sudhar karo.
Jab tak na safal ho, neend chain ko tyago tum,
Sangharsh ka maidan chhodkar mat bhago tum.
Kuch kiye bina hi jai jaikar nahin hoti,
koshish karne walon ki haar nahin hoti.
– Harivansh Rai Bachchan
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
deserted was her I witnessed
avoiding to wipe the sweat on her forehead
as the cursed time she faced.
In the pouring rains she wept I saw
as the tears camouflaged in those drops
alone in those water logged fields
witnessing the wet harvest of crops.
I saw her in those fallen relics
that shouted the historic glory,
that heroic age and its saddened fall
in those missing pages of glory.
I saw her in that mesmerising moon
which lightened her unseen sorrow,
through my window I watched her sink
in the endless wait of tomorrow.
I saw her in those blossoming springs
when the flowers bloomed in fragrance,
she remained alone for surveillant fate
as time tested her patience.
I saw her back in the defunct chamber
where black blood pour out of her veins.
Her face buried in her folded arms
in dark corners she wept out her pains.
Turning away from the evidences I saw
Worried and thinking of that figure so blur,
who was she? making me her presence felt
taking me on ride of the forbidden slur?
In the night past 12 as I closed my eyes,
again she haunted my mind,
all her sightings in my open eyes
set the story to unwind.
It was the same date that made me saw her,
as my emotions broke my heart's prison
she was the sad face of my dark memories
my betrayed love, still haunting my vision.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Sunday, January 11, 2009
I was sitting with some friends
sharing the jokes,
and laughing at new trends
then I noticed u,
standing in the crowd;
ur lips were shut
but eyes spoke loud
I was spelled by the
magic in ur eyes,
and kept searching for
the truth inside ur lies
you never said anything,
not even a hint;
maybe i was a fool
or was it just an instinct ?
I did everything
to bring u close,
but to live without me
is what u chose !!
u can go and
leave me behind
but let me tell u,
u'll always be on my mind
I think of u
whatever be the time
I plead guilty ,
if that is a crime
I'll wait 4 the day
when we can be together
and, I really dont care
even if that takes forever !!
-- VP - from ashes 2 glory, pride & honor --
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!
--------- Rudyard Kipling----------