tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49928221027155158492024-02-08T21:41:46.012+05:30riotveena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992822102715515849.post-60962714607312301392011-12-19T02:41:00.009+05:302011-12-19T03:06:22.956+05:30<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: white;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><u>Few beautiful lines I read about God :</u></i></b></span></div><br />
<div style="color: #ffe599; font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">A dog will recognize his master in whatever way he dresses. The master may dress in robes, suit & tie, or stand naked, but the dog will always recognize his master. If we cannot recognize God, our beloved master, when he comes in a different dress from another religion, then we are less than that dog.</span></i></div><div style="color: #e06666; font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">(from 'The Journey Home')</span></div><br />
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</div>veena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992822102715515849.post-53197596629343355202011-10-15T04:06:00.005+05:302011-10-15T04:16:56.145+05:30GIFT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>You ask me, to show you the path...</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>You are my angel in disguise,</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Like a shower on arid land,</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Sweet lullaby on a lonely night,</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Held the hand of a drowning soul</i></span></div><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-large;"><i> </i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Oblivious to my despair,</i></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i></i><i style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Let me feel bliss,</i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>detaching me from my name that IS… </i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>You do not know what you give..</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>Yes. I now see how it feels to live.</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>To you, I may never say...</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>but always wishing our bond would stay,</i></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>What a precious gift you are,</i></span></div><span style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-large;"><i> </i></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="color: #f9cb9c; font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>A Gift For Me From God</i></span><br />
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</div></div>veena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992822102715515849.post-16214016488681431262011-06-26T14:21:00.000+05:302011-06-23T02:52:05.396+05:30freedom<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Aching for freedom</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Freedom in belonging</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Freedom from self</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Longed for, for too long, </i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Freedom from the racket inside,</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>from the silence outside </i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Engulfed by indifference,</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>hoping for conflict</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Pained by every stifled plan, every wish,</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>suppressed by apathy, sometimes her own</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Longing for life to be fair?</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>fooling oneself for so long</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Rage & zest reduced to the occasional tear</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Suffocated into numbness,</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>away from anger, despair, fear, desire, hope & glee...</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>This is FREEDOM.</i></span></div><div style="color: cyan; font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>Is it not?</i></span><br />
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</div></div>veena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992822102715515849.post-24899673658462198002011-06-12T19:24:00.005+05:302011-06-13T02:43:21.262+05:30ज़िन्दगी<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="font-size: large;">शहर के बीचोंबीच एक खूबसूरत मकान है मेरा. पुरखों ने छोड़ी हुई कुछ दौलत और मैनेजर की नौकरी भी.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">दिन गुज़रता है मेरा नोट कमाने में. आखिर जवानी में न कमाऊंगा तो बाकी ज़िन्दगी आराम से कैसे कटेगी?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">लेकिन जवानी सिर्फ कमाने के लिए तो नहीं है , शाम होते ही दफ्तर से घर लौटता हूँ , तैयार होता हूँ और निकल जाता हूँ अपनी गाडी में... महफ़िलें सजती है यारों के साथ. कभी शेरो-शायरी , कभी नाच-गाना और कभी हसीनाओं के बीच दिल बहला लेता हूँ . देर रात घर लौटता हूँ और फिर सुबह दफ्तर चला जाता हूँ.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">इससे ज्यादा खुशहाल ज़िन्दगी क्या होगी ? कोई कमी न थी जीवन में.संतुष्ट हूँ मैं अपनी दुनिया में.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> आते जाते यूँ ही कभी कभी उसे देखता हूँ ...सोचता हूँ, न जाने कितने दिनों से वह सोया न होगा, न जाने कब उसने सुकून से बैठकर खाया होगा. बाल बिखरे हुए , आँखों में कभी एक उदासी नज़र आती है, कभी प्यास छलकती है तो कभी एक हलकी सी मुस्कान भी. अपनी ही दुनिया में खोया हुआ पाता हूँ उसे.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">उसका नाम तो नहीं मालूम मुझे. सुना है कुछ लोग उसे 'दीवाना' कहते हैं और कुछ 'देवदास'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">कभी मैखाने की तरफ जाता हुआ और कभी सड़कों पर आवारा फिरता हुआ दिखाई देता है मुझे.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">समुन्दर के किनारे बैठा हुआ न जाने किसके तसव्वुर में खोया रहता है...किसके इंतज़ार में? मुस्कान और आंसूं एक साथ हैं उसके चेहरे पर...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">तरस आता था मुझे उसकी हालत पर. मेरी ही उम्र का लगता है वह. क्यूँ अपना यौवन यूँ बर्बाद किये जा रहा है?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">यह भी कोई ज़िन्दगी है ? क्यों न मैं दोस्ती का हाथ बढाऊँ और उसे जीना सिखाऊँ...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">खुद को रोक नहीं पाया. मैंने कहा, " भाई मेरे, क्यों इस तरह अपना जीवन बर्बाद करते हो? मेरी तरफ देखो.ज़िन्दगी बहुत खूबसूरत है.उसे सही तरीके से जिया करो."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">हंसकर वह बोला, " <i>मुझे तरस आता है तुमपर , मोहब्बत कभी न की तुमने और कहते हो की जी रहे हो!</i>" </span><br />
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</div>veena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4992822102715515849.post-8886600034326547912011-05-20T04:16:00.002+05:302011-06-11T15:12:14.795+05:30delusion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="color: #93c47d;">This -'More than 90% of Indian marriages are still arranged. Less than 5% result in divorce' is nonsense.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #0b5394;"><a href="http://youtu.be/Z8X97OL06OY">http://youtu.be/Z8X97OL06OY</a></div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">Most of India lives in villages & small towns, not in metros. Divorce is still a TABOO in our society.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">As I live in a metro, I will share what I've seen around me. None of these are hypothetical.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">My maid servant is the only earning member in the family with 2 kids & a husband to support. The husband does not work, is a drunkard & also beats up & abuses her regularly. Occasionally, she has to get him released from jail. One might dismiss this as being common in the slums/lower classes.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d; text-align: left;">My friend's parents - The husband is an high ranking official at FDA. The wife runs her own beauty parlour in a posh locality. Same story again. Drinks & domestic violence. They both had extra-marital affairs & their kids know this. However, divorce is never an option.</div><div style="color: #93c47d; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">Another friend's sister - Hers was an arranged marriage. They now have a son.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">Her husband rarely takes her out. He says 'I don't like to spend time with you'.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">There is no violence here. But no companionship, no respect either. </div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">Industrialist father used to beat up mother regularly. Finally he stood up for his mother when he was old enough to defend her. But today, he does the same thing to his wife in front of their two daughters. His wife is quite wealthy & she is aware of his extra-marital affairs. But divorce?</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">After twenty years of marriage, one of my relatives is 'trying to adjust' in this family.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">She advises me to get hitched to someone who treats me well.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">From my native, a girl married an NRI. After 2 years, he drops her back in her village, saying 'I don't want her.' Now she has to raise the kid alone & live with the stigma that her husband left her.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">I am not sympathizing with women here.</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">The point of writing this is 'not getting divorced does not mean the marriage is successful'</div><div style="color: #93c47d;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #93c47d;">Can't understand the Indian obsession with marriage either.</div><span style="color: #93c47d;">Getting married due to societal pressure, men & women stay in unhappy marriages due to the stigma attached to divorce, the society, for the kids etc.etc......... & many take the easy alternative-- extra-marital affairs..</span>.</div>veena_1604http://www.blogger.com/profile/17115660261869671475noreply@blogger.com1