Snippets of the mind by Gagansvaid

he was lonely.. yet he had 'his' company, company of his heart, that had the dreams.. dreams of his daughter..  he was eating chocolate that day, sitting near the lake. a tear or two touched his cheeks, he felt if it was rain..that touched his face.. he realised, it was his daughter standing next to him.. in his dreams, eating chocolate with him.. he wishes so much, if it were not a dream, and a reality.. time had moved faster he felt, that he had lived the precious moments with his daughter, and those were now the past memories..

this light that walks with me, this light that is wisdom, strength and joy to me. this fragrance, of the roses, this garden breeze to me. it's all a part of my present, my past and the future to me. these are the songs of my- sadness and grief. these only celebrate my being, my reality, and my dreams.

Winds flashed by, seasons came and passed. The sunlight had the same grace, while he stood there in time, to witness and encompass; every moment he had written, with her on the sands of time; he knew she was there, the time had no say whatsoever, in their incomplete, yet complete love affair.

There is this spirit inside of me, that wants to be heard. There is this spirit in me, which wants to find its route because that is learning, and learning is joy. In short, I would say that I am looking for love to sprout from the little patches I can find and see, that I say I can see art everywhere, in every place but what can I do when it is hard to justify my stance on art, to people around me. In this world today of so much criticism, so much hatred I wonder if my dreams are just mockery or a joke? If it is a joke, then I better leave them, the people whom I see upon as my elders or my teachers. I think, I would have to make my way once again through the crowd. I need to find those people who believe in love and know what it means to give some respect at least to the hard work and labour of people. That it takes a lot of courage to take a start, that a start doesn't happen everyday, that when a start happens, there has to be some encouragement. I think, that's what teach

People came to her as mere travellers. She had no school to study in, no friend to accompany her. She started writing one fine day, and all she ended up writing was that, 'One day, we all are but stars." She kept watching the night sky with admiration and grace, before she fell asleep under those stars, and they were her guardians. They showed her the way, and gave her company and togetherness. She had herself become a star and hence the written words flew away with the paper in the winds that blew. The page sighted again this time, 'One day, we all are but stars."

Happiness is my young friend, It chirps, it dances and makes me experience, the beauty and affection that a flower could transmit. Happiness, in the laptop screen which flashes, Happiness in the unfinished manuscript, Happiness in the tangled earphones lying on the bed, Happiness in the sight of the lampshade, There's a lot to celebrate every morning, There's a lot to live.  smile emoticon

Nothing more, Nothing less, It was the essence. Never known, Never met, Still, a magnet. Her face appears, She has many faces, Every newer road, He finds her there. So, he keeps moving, He knows, she's waiting. In the necklace of love, She's a solitaire.

They said, he had to be correct with grammar and concepts to be a writer.. whereas, he had only known her eyes, her smile.. that was all the grammar and concepts he knew.. she called him a writer, and he wrote about her eyes.. accepting, what she called him. Yes, somewhere it is applicable on me.

The teacher asked him questions that day, which he could not answer. Yeah, the teacher had taught the lessons beforehand, but he had forgotten those. When the teacher left the class, she had a smile on her face, she said, "I expect participation from you. Come prepared next time." There was no better feeling than this. Well yes, the above said statement is closer to my heart. It happened with me  today in my class, that I thought of writing about it. Something that brought me a smile and motivation to keep moving! Thank you ma'am! :) 

Scattered by the thunderstorm, he collected pieces of his broken heart. From someone who had loved her wholeheartedly, to someone who was unknown a heart, in the musings of the choir, which strung a beat up and down. Yeah, his friends came to him, with open arms to stand to his grief, because, they had known what it was like, when someone's belief in love thrashed. Just that, he had to understand, the difference between an imaginative world, and the reality side of this world. They were different, yet lived by the same people in this world. He stopped his thoughts of her, and felt, there was no joy in doing so. He didn't want to control it, his feelings, so he bursted out eventually, in tearful eyes, and a heart that was unknown. With the shimmer of the first rays of the sun, that early morning, he understood, he got the faith back in love, for his love of her was true. It was like the sunshine, which always greeted, with equal love and dedication of a true lover. Wit

From the time he met people, led many interactions on the public sphere, renowned as he was, people knew him, he felt complete in his works of art, and when people appreciated, as well as depreciated his art form, he had no problems, for he was complete. No, it was not only in his paintings, that he felt complete. What mattered, the most were his thoughts of her, that led him to create the art form. For, whatever the people would say, he knew, wherefrom he got his peace, in his love of her, that he loved his art, and ended up loving himself. Others didn't come in picture, it was their story, felt and understood, by the two of them, 'the lovers..' Gagandeep Singh Vaid 20/02/2015

Yes, her presence was unmatchable, unmatchable as the Northern Star! Oh yeah I know it is true, but does it have to be so, just because I feel it to be? I wonder in astonishment, I wonder and wonder, until I close my eyes and sleep. A voice wakes me up, I have to get up and work. Yeah, I have much work to do, like anyone else, I always have, a dream to accomplish, happiness to taste and brew. Yeah, my work provided me that! In between my meals and, the assignments I do; her presence strikes to me right, well right again in time, as she doesn't leave me unglued. She's painted in my memories, some times of the past, which I like, as well as dislike, but those belong to us, that I look back at them and clutch, onto them yet again. Well, those rivulets of joy, pass through me, yet again in her thoughts, I have lost my pace of work, but that doesn't matter now. She has already met me at a time, in the day, when all my work, has seamlessly rhym

The very basic definition of the word 'Democracy', that I had learnt in my school was that it is a form of government which is, " of the people, by the people and for the people ." This definition was given by the late U.S. President Abraham Lincoln. The thought of democracy brings me back to reflect upon the recent Vidhan Sabha elections in Delhi. The elections that changed the very notion of politics this time, with the results not only becoming the cutest surprise to the people of Delhi, but also acting their rhetoric best. With the Aam Aadmi Party(AAP) in Delhi taking away all the seats less three, there was a lot to cherish for the Delhites when their own party had formed the government. In the recent times when I would meet the auto-rickshaw  wall's   in  Saadi Dilli,  I would always be taken for a thoughtful escapade. The campaigners for the 2 year old political party were not coming in  laal  batty  cars, but from anywhere in the heart of the city to th

why is it that the stars are bright? why is it that someone's presence strikes? i look within my self, my senses and in that while, what is there within me, circumscribes.  every emotion, every thought, is what forms me, like a Rock. every little moment i spend, becomes a memory forever incense.  why am i fearful, i often ask myself, until i fall silent, and close my eyes. there appears to me, my light, the freshness, the breeze could provide. the memories fall upon to be, of those different territories, wherever i have been, wherever i had the luck to dream. this is the sky above me, there are the clouds, that walk and find someone, high above to accompany. either the birds who share songs, or the breeze that touches, and influences the many lovers. lovers on the land below, while they glide up over the skies. yeah, it is all in harmony, it is in the appreciation of beauty, appreciation of one's being.

This night is a flight to the harbour of bonhomie and affection. With the day that I led forth, I could feel and likewise embrace, every moment which came to me in this very day.  Smiles and misunderstandings to everything being sorted out at the end of the day, there is a lot to call my own in solace of my thoughts and ideology.  If you ask me still at this hour, between all the affection, care and love that I have with me to counter, then I would say that yes, somewhere I am fearful as well. As I really don't know, if what I am planning with all my energies and strengths is going to furnish or not? Whatever it is that happens, I shall hold on to the belief, in the quote that I had heard once. The quote goes like this, "Do your best and leave the rest." Yeah, I am looking forward to goodness to spring in through my actions, so yeah it is up with me in my faith in the songs. Goodnight. 

"To write, a blog is to enchant thy thoughts on the screen in front of me." This I say to myself, and begin my day with glee. Love resembles freedom to thee to walk to places and kiss the sea. Such is thy notion such is thy dream that every star is proud of its being. You be that star, be that every sea that travels far off in its territory. Still it is filled with all the affection, your heart could imbibe, your wishes could enshrine. I met a girl yesterday she made me smile. Enough reasons, enough wishes she had  given to me, on why she loved her life. Every thought about her is a beautifying reality to me as I carry my walk, I sight to the girl in She.  Freedom in her walks, dreams in her thoughtful chariots. She talked and reached, to my heart, yeah she connected that chord of love with me. I follow her today, I know she is the Light. I follow my footsteps, I know I have learnt from her, the beauty of Life. Thank you, dear St

What do you want to eat? ", He asked. "Bhelpuri, maybe," she answered. Her cheeks turned red and her hands were shaking. The shame of asking for a dish that's so not hep, that's so not pizza and that's so not costly.  Cheap people eat cheap things. Right? The boy smiled. He went up to the Bhelpuri stall and asked him to prepare one. The boy woke up and stared at the customer. "Is this really happening?", he wondered. Anyways, on a winter evening, on a summer day or on a rainy afternoon, he was always there, hopeful yet hopeless. With the eyes of a hawk, he craved for customers. Alas! Some, he had. Honestly, if you want to eat something that's beautiful, erotic, mouth-watering, healthy and cheap ( the price, okay?), don't think twice, go eat Bhelpuri. A big bowl or container, so many namkeens, so many colours. A plastic spoon and a plastic plate. A lot of love and a mid-day meal. A hungry stomach and happy mouths. When you take the

Eyes water, unknown of the fact over what to do? After a day full of running, to catch the pace of this swiftly moving life; when one sits and looks aback at the happenings of the day, then there is joy and there are lessons, either good or bad. There are many tasks which were left in between and could not be completed, and there were few tasks to be done, which were completely forgotten. Where at one point, all this varies from person to person, I look at all of this like a film. A film that plays in front of my eyes, just before the day is set to conclude with me bidding it goodnight. Somewhere, I see that my work defines me. I see the certain tasks in the day, the very manner they happened to me. I also judge myself, I look at my personality and the way I carried about these tasks of mine. Either, I led these tasks in a haphazard manner or I had a way out through them; all of it defines me. My work, simply because it belongs to me.

While she was about to leave their home, she was also leaving him. The way he had changed, the way he had started drinking and abusing her, it was all she could do. The house they built with so much love, the house that had their dreams in, it was about that house, that it was no longer a house. In the bloom of their youth, when they had been the perfect lovebirds, two people who  were made for each other, who were compatible and understood each other better than anyone in the world, were leaving each other, after being united for six years. She couldn't question fate, for such a tragic upbringing of their bond of love. Just the way, she didn't question fate, for giving them the most beautiful days of their lives, when they respected each other. In her last message to him, in her eyes of pain, disdain and heartbreak, she gave him the possessions of their togetherness. She left on their bed, the diaries they had written in admiration of each other, the letters they had p

It was a morning like any other, yet it was a different day. This day marked the annual Mathematics Fest, IDENTITY 2K15 of Delhi University's prestigious, Hansraj College. The students of Mathematics Department presented a lot of enthusiasm to align for the events of the day. It was 9:30 A.M. sharp, and the decorations were complete by the time the students of other colleges reached the Hansraj College. There were happy faces all around, just like the bright colours that had webbed the area around the L.P.! Well, L.P. is the short form of Lovers Point, where the college students sit to gossip and talk about their experiences of the day. I reached for the desk where two girls were sitting from Mathematics Dept. and I could understand that because they were involved in some work, obviously it had to be related with their fest. I could learn their names from their badges and they were really sweet, in addressing me. They told me about a game they had in their list of games. The f

Delhi has become the next destination for film-makers to land in after Mumbai. Delhi being the capital city of India, is not only rich in the monuments but also in its own unmatchable culture. Well, yeah it's a mixed culture here in Delhi but that's what defines us, Delhites. So, let's celebrate the fact that Bollywood celebrates us in its films. The famous places amongst them are as follows; Connaught Place Being in the heart of the city, C.P. can never be missed from anyone's sight. It's loved by all of us, EQUALLY! :D Flashes of C.P. are in every Bollywood film, which has glimpses of Delhi in it, or as a whole is set in Delhi.  Few films of the countless many films shot here are, 2 States, P.K. , Rockstar, Delhi-6, Delly-Belly! Arjun Kapoor in 2 states, shooting in Connaught Place India Gate Film after film has had glimpses of India Gate! Recent films such as, Student of the Year, Vicky Donor, Raanjhanaa and the well acclaimed film amongst these b

The joy of looking at your face, Is incomparable . But then it is about a but,  I can't stand what according to you,  Is fun and bearable. I think in our attachment, Is our detachment. ------------------------- What is, remains! Whatever is, that remains. The times lived by you once, get added to your memories, for days distant in a sum. Yeah, for sure you won’t have every other event lived, at the back of your mind, but it just remains there  in the flash of your eyes. Every dream, every glory does sublime, your memory, your life, is all yours and belongs to none other than to you. You possess, it’s yours, just the time to write them, you have to manage. To remember every drop, every flash, and write it for you and others to read it in the sands of time. --------------------------- just it's a 'me' thing. few images unseen,  were now found. few confusions were sorted out. her name gave all reasons, to give him faith in his reasons to live. like her, many other m