Snippets of the mind by Gagansvaid

Her shoulder, to keep his head on; Her eyes would understand each vibe, whatever his heart had to say, she had known already, whether he said so, or naught, she had known him this much strong. His heart knew how it felt to be in her place, her situation. Whilst she wouldn’t believe he felt her pain. She believed not in him, for any care; she only knew, how to give love and not to accept it. He had known many a people, like her, who had lived a life with many- many people. Her friends, they had been. Whilst he roamed around, being lonely, She decorated every moment, with a feel, enriched with love, that was the paradise. With her pals, pleasant every day of memories, full of joy and symphony. Life had brought them, at this array; that they had to meet, being from exactly different poles, yet they say, that the opposites attract, do they stand, for each-other, every part of the day. How much in everyday do they disagree, it doesn’t matter. For, at the en

Hello everyone I hope, you are doing well. Through this letter I would like to show the outline of my blog, and describe the changes, the structure, the growth of my blog in the month of October. This month has been good to me. I have dreamt along, as much as I have thought about various issues in our lives; issues over political mindset, over the health of my country. I have in this month written poems on love, and continued my narrative, 'A talk in the train.'; hence publishing its two episodes. I had started with writing reviews on Sachin Tendulkar's initiative over the 'Swacch Bharat Abhiyan', followed by an article in response to critics, 'Why I like Chetan Bhagat?'. These two articles were well received and got the most views. This month also had a lot of change in the blog, in terms of its structure. The name of the blog changed from 'Love as its only on approach', to 'Flair, love, redemption (FLR)', that was updated for further

Mind bears with lots of thoughts, Memories that had in life added upon. But how long can someone listen to you, how much, yet how much. At the end, you have to but find solace, with this time, and not think this as a maze; for whatever was, ’twas the past, what is, it is in the present. Why to be left, in that time; when today is even capable to make a rhyme? In the lost glories, in the dreams so beautified, in the present ambiguities and fights; why to run from this place when you can instead, even brighten the damped roads with gems. Why to loosen and not gear upon, when breathe is, and life is in us. Until the last bit of your energy, why not put your effort enough, to do what interests, satisfies your soul the most? When waves the sky, with bounty and charm in its disposition; then why to take a back seat, when a lot is to be won? Reach your sky in this life, and express it; and make its presence felt in the walks of life, under the stars and the sun likewise, you are

Ratan had asked Raghubir to bring his story book for him to read his works. On their next meeting at Cha Bar in Connaught Place, Raghubir brought his selected stories for Ratan to read. It was not a book that Ratan had asked for, but many stories were bundled together in a folder. Those weren’t much organised but Ratan did not say anything but grabbed on to it, as soon as he saw it.  While they talked on issues of their country, from the new government to the Economic policies that were being formulated by the government ministry; Ratan had something in his mind. That thing he had already received, to read the stories his friend wrote. Those were quite a many, and he was looking at the folder and the papers placed in between, with stories stapled and differentiated from one another, on A-4 sized sheets. Few looked old while few looked as new prints, done just for Ratan. There was more of his friend, Ratan had wanted to know. In this man, had many deep a stories that kept him so im

Your eyes ask your stars, When would you shine. Your eyes glare at the world, How it binds, how it works. Your eyes cherish every sight of the rain. Your eyes smile as your beloved comes to you. Who are you, I wonder; what is it about you, that touches my intense. Why do I bend at your world, the eyes that look at me. What do you want to say to me, Will you ever show me your face; that you have hidden in the shade. You shine, but you don’t show me; who you actually are. Oh, why do I want to see you? Maybe, you don’t want to show your eyes to me. But, yet I see your eyes; in the every person whom I see, I can feel; you are looking at me, with your eyes at me, until rain sights outside the window, that you play with the water, you dance breathlessly, you are a dancer, an artist then. Then I see you in the paintings, no one looks better than you. But, in your faceless smile, I can feel your love. The love, that stands for everyone, just I wonder that, why

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WXQnRdoiJf0&feature=youtu.be

That day.  She came to visit us, We two were a couple; Where she greeted us, Coming over, many miles. That day, a day of freshness, I thought would be, Always as lively, as the mango tree. Whence, my lady declined, What came in offer from my friend to me. The feelings of my lady, had gone astray, to find us two guilty; my friend and me, I wondered, why she had felt to be? Love was a topic, to be felt, not discussed; my dreams had felt hurt, across. She walked away, my lady; to leave me and my friend alone, to look at the sky above and ponder, for what had happened was right or wrong.. oh, we were in a fix, as the situation stormed; to leave us, two friends all alone.  My lady said, I was a man; who was bad, she naught had known, what she had meant to me, that time; when she had taken me wrong. Did she find us to be not right anymore, that she was finding, a chance to break, our equations of love, with a heedless throng

I knowest not, How I became so close to you. I knowest not, How you became so dear to me. Up above the stars so high, My  heart  composes and sings along. There is something evil,  While something really  good  and pure. What I can call my own, Is that  light , that emits from the stars and the moon, Oh, is it sun's own light that reflects, Or is it my heart that lets those rays cast. I talk with  myself , I am sad or in triumph, In many castles I have walked down, I have found peace within the  silence  of mine, Silence, that kept its place manifold, When everything around me chattered- there was something I could call my own; It was my love for my very goal, My dreams that look at me with cheerful eyes, My heart bends to hug my work, that is mine. Gagandeep Singh Vaid

You came to me with all your dreams, As I looked at you, I could feel your being. Your  heart  had said lots to me, While you stood merely glancing at me. For days and months had passed in decree, You had been a traveller each and every day to me. With as much love, as your cheerfulness cast, You had given me enough reasons to  smile  and be; Your companion in every part of your  life  story. Story that was not only yours but mine too, because you meant to me, what the sun means to universe. Then, how could you say that we weren't meant to be? Those friends for life, those who knew each other's presence, without one's telling the other, such had become of our bond. Even today when our directions go differentl ways,  we stand at the same junction of life, in love and admiration for one another. You  believe  it or not, but  time  doesn't really have a say, when it is an emotion of the hearts, no one walks away. It is time that wa

I That day, Raghubir had got back home and hid his face under a pillow; to let his eyes relieve and not be seen by anyone. His moist eyes, his cute dreams unseen and unfelt by anyone else. For a moment, the truth of the matter came to the front. That he had no friend, and that’s why, he was like a stranger in a world of so many people. Was it his mistake that he had no friends, or was it his mistake that he was like that, that his nature was such as his. Introvert, shy, soft and misunderstood. That whatever he would see, he would imagine only that. No one, for that matter could simply; be as honest to him as himself. Raghubir talked to himself, played with himself, laughed on his own thoughts, thoughts that were quite kiddish, quite simple.  If he had no friend, then from where did he learn things; how he knew that world worked like this or world worked like that. What was the basis for his understandings. Who was he, within his heartiest chords? Yes, there were people who impr

I Yes, he dreamt like a bird. Yes, he dreamt like someone; who had been in love. Love, that was beautiful in every countless hue. Love, that had its own touch, unmatched by any other feeling in the world. He had his own story to tell, not sadness in his story but happiness all the way. Yes, he had been in love; it had felt great, yes, he thought it again and again. He had been in love. Those had been his school days, when he had liked a girl. At that time, in fifth grade; he had felt what love was, the most auspicious feeling. When, this dreamer in Raghubir would keep on thinking about her, about how her hair was done, how she matched his eyes and how his heart smiled. Just one eye contact, gave him enough reasons to cherish his day. To call his day, the best day that he had ever lived.   Those were the days, of sports meet in the school. He hadn’t had enough audacity to go and talk to her before that. Well, that day had not been an exception either. He didn’t go to her. W

For a far greater time, the title of this blog page remained to be, 'Love as it's only on approach'. With a thought, that love always wins. There was a child in me writing for my own blog, with as much confidence in love, as much as my faith had restored in me. That faith and confidence wasn't all about me, but it was about love. Love, that I had thought could pass through all the hurdles, that was the only driving force for the world to be. In my tryst and journey to define this powerful word, I myself had several highs and lows in life. So, the story of life itself unravelled to me; like they say, page by page you see life. Yes, life meant a page at a time to me and considering that I kept my feelings intact. Intact in the sense that, I never let myself forget those days of the past, even after I had lived through them, experienced them. I have written on my experiences of school life, then liking a girl, then about a couple of travel journey's that I went thr

Dreams instate, oh where went thee? In hearts’ that ponder, oh where went thee? Sunrise was brilliant, the shadows followed; My love was present, while your dreams trod.  Oh, I knewest not, You had to do to me, Love you had sought, Breaking my heart in sentimentality.  Yes, it was a day, Respite, ever-present; Till the doomsday. Oh, the mind that echoed, there was something wrong; I thought no, that mayhem, wasn’t a part of my song. I had trust in my dreams oh yeah, My faith asked me to look twice, while I, resisted for the greatest sacrifice. For, I thought, to double check was to put, my trust in her to question; while I forgot that I was been trodden, oh you call it, repulsion that happened. Sacrifice, you sayest; Was to question her thoughts, oh I never wondered, it was so hurtful, to hear what was the truth, yes; it was rude.  Now across the silver lining, those stars that twinkle, like the films, like the

Up above  the inlet stars, Deep within  the dream empowers, You lookest me As I lookest thee, oh, how we create such a harmony. Up above  the inlet stars, Deep within  the dream empowers..

'Why do you like Chetan Bhagat?', is what people ask me! I answer them. 'Why don't you like Chetan Bhagat?' They say, he is ambitious. They say, he writes shit. He writes, the same story all over again; when a boy is shown desperate enough to search for that moment to kiss a girl. When you ask Chetan this question, he says that this is the reality; he describes the man's mind. Well, right; not every man is like that; or is it that every man doesn't show that, when every man feels so. But, wait; he didn't refer to every man being such in his books; it was just about a character that he described in his book. You know what, you can watch Bollywood films and praise the acting, everything in it and not complain; but when you read the script of the film, you have got a problem. Isn't it? You like, 3 idiots, making it a box office success, followed by Kai Po Che, and then it is 2 states, Kick. Why do you say, you like the films; but you don't li

Sachin Ramesh Tendulkar, a name which ruled the sporting world; proves it why, he remains to be in the hearts of his countrymen.  From being the best on the cricket field, this sporting icon has made it clear as of why; he stands out amongst all; to express his love for his country. Recently, Sachin along with his team acknowledged the campaign put to light by the Prime Minister of India, Mr. Narendra Modi. The campaign by the name of, ‘Swaach Bharat Abhiyan’, was brought forward to the people of India, on the eve of  the 'Independence Day', when Mr. Modi,  in his speech pronounced the need towards cleanliness. Cleanliness that was not the job of sweepers and washermen alone, but cleanliness was an attribute to be taken upon by every citizen of the Nation. Sachin and his team, reached a roadside in Mumbai; that was full of dirt. So much so, it was a nightmare for not only the morning walkers, but also the people passing through that very road in cars or scooters. As

Mom, for you my heart says; You stood by my side, always. Not a day there was when, You weren't there for me. In my pitfalls, to my success, you were always holding my hand. When I am in glory, I often go and party, I go alone, or with my friends; You are praying, and wishing for my happiness. Every day with your face to see, becomes this world a place of ecstasy. Your care and concern for me, Won't be matched with anyone ever. You are the only one, who knows; When I am glad and when            sadness engrosses over me. You're the closest person to me, Your softness, your love; is the most beautiful ornament. Strength whispers in imaginative tendencies, to sit and talk to you. Love you mom, A very happy birthday to you!

Her dreams sidelined his every other thought, Her voice, mellifluous; and her eyes of wonder, Yet so deep. She glanced a moment, at those clouds, the sky; how she had also seen dreams of this guy. Only if, he had but said, all he had in his heart, his dreams bred; Could she aim to touch the clouds, being a bird in love bound. Yet, it wasn't in her destiny, Neither was it in his; to express the mutual response. Yet, the days passed to months; he hadn't said, and she hadn't but waited now. Love was love, said or unsaid, spiritual was every spirit unwound. Still, he kept to dream about her; while she had gone far away in her presence, she had a lover to speak kind words, oh, if 'twas not he, but another man; he kept wondering how wonderful 'twas to stand, along the clouds, feeling the love; not with her, yet not far from her. Gagandeep Singh Vaid

Many a times, few decisions we make; Those are decisions made in haste. Many a times, mind says nothing; Leaves it to the heart to decision-making. When the mind doesn't but say, and heart is to put the right decision; It is when, the impulses spell the answers. Sometimes, it gets really important, To listen to the intense being; Because later even if decision stands to be, a bad one, or a wrong one then still; there is composure within and not regret. That satisfies even what stings, with listening to the inner chambers of one's being. Heart is but a cradle of dreams, it has its own ability to see, when experiences of life fall less in sight; it is but that gut feeling to be, that lets one take a stand and be proud of it.

                                                                  Travel Diaries                                                         ONE WEEK IN THE HILLS          “THE WORLD IS A BOOK, AND THOSE WHO DO NOT TRAVEL READ ONLY A PAGE”- Saint Augustine. 21 st July, 2014 (Delhi- Kasol) Perturbed by the world and the negativity it possesses, I decided to travel again. For it is the only remedy which has an anesthetic effect on the wounds which have been engraved on my soul . After completing a strenuous photo shoot in fitness modeling and being deprived of good food for nearly seventy days and being broke as hell, it was time to take a break and head to the hills. Raj, A friend of mine decided to join in last moment and I was thankful that I didn’t have to spend much time looking for company. We boarded our ‘Himachal Tourism’ bus to Kullu from Mandi house and according to the bus driver, we would be there in thirteen hours. I check the time, it is 9.30 pm and we hav