Thursday, March 24, 2011
Some Passing Thoughts: The Genius Does it Again
Some Passing Thoughts: The Genius Does it Again: "Sachin Tendulkar has done it again. The Master strikes back with finesse and spark. He has added another feather to his cap after he reached..."
The Genius Does it Again
Sachin Tendulkar has done it again. The Master strikes back with finesse and spark. He has added another feather to his cap after he reached his 18000 mark in ODIs. This World Cup will be remembered for many reasons – the matches played, won and lost the best of the best players, the all-rounders and so on and so forth. But it will also be remembered for the contribution and dedication towards the game that Sachin displayed throughout his long abd non-controversial career, proving again and again that Cricket is indeed a ‘gentleman’s game’. This quarterfinal match against the Aussies (Australia) in Ahmedabad will be part of the history of Cricket. The master batsman has scored 48 tons and 94 half-centuries so far in his ODI career. As he is also one century short of his 100th international hundred, one could at this stage hope that India will see many more fabulous innings from this genius.
Passing Thoughts: Dhoni has perhaps learnt his lesson of playing Suresh Raina. Yuvraj Singh produced one more man of the match to face his home crowd at Mohali with the neighbouring country, Pakistan. This is a colossal moment. This is a title moment and let us cherish it for the moment. A sad day for Ricky Ponting - but for his century - and his boys. Three times World Cup Champion, they must be feeling sunk and saddened. Better Luck next time.
Good Luck to the "Men in Blue" for future. They don't need to bleed blue, but keep their calm.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Life moves on...
This little space and this little time
Life's too short to hold a thread...
Keeps on rolling like a stone
Making moves, swirling and springing;
Men make friends, and men shares space
Men makes choices and moves with time
Men cuddles for love and stands alone...
Yet life moves on.....
Life's too short to hold a thread...
Keeps on rolling like a stone
Making moves, swirling and springing;
Men make friends, and men shares space
Men makes choices and moves with time
Men cuddles for love and stands alone...
Yet life moves on.....
Saturday, November 20, 2010
Survival
Fighting within, the heart beats
Many lives and many deaths open arms;
She lives through quiet glimmers!
Rajdeep Pathak
November 20, 2010
Many lives and many deaths open arms;
She lives through quiet glimmers!
Rajdeep Pathak
November 20, 2010
To Freshness
Crying, sensing the breast’s sweetness
She drinks the fresh nectar of life,
As purity flows from within!
Rajdeep Pathak
November 20, 2010
She drinks the fresh nectar of life,
As purity flows from within!
Rajdeep Pathak
November 20, 2010
Friday, November 19, 2010
World Space
[A Haiku is a non-rhymed verse. Haiku is a Japanese Word, which means Light Verse. In its genre, in the first line, it has five syllables, followed by seven in the second and five again in the third.]
World Space
Life, birth and new existence
Come and play into this fathomless world
Journeying into Earth’s varied space.
(A Gift to my little daughter Sharanya who came to this world on Monday, October 11, 2010)
World Space
Life, birth and new existence
Come and play into this fathomless world
Journeying into Earth’s varied space.
(A Gift to my little daughter Sharanya who came to this world on Monday, October 11, 2010)
Monday, August 2, 2010
Happy Hours
Let the dark clouds pass by
Let me once again see the clear sky
The clouds make different faces
As I watch children and their races!
The race against time has passed
As men sit and count their cards
Kings and Queens and Knights and Pawns
The cavalry men join to sing a song…!
Women in the warmth of the hearth sit and bake
Cakes and buns, their preferred take;
Some knitters do circle the neck
As others join to stitch their hands!
Birds chirp and dogs bark,
While a cat does her favourite walk!
Little drops of rain from the sky
Takes the happiness at an all-time high
Flowers blossom and green adorns the branches of trees
While mermaids seem dancing in the water down the lakes!
The dark clouds have passed by
And the Church bells chime and gain!
There’s music in air, there’s music in all hearts;
There’s laughter in air and no signs of pain.
The Moon hums a tune to twinkling stars;
In the clear sky with no clouds around as bars!
The night sky shimmers, cutting through the darkness
All fair play and signs of calmness!
Far away, children sleep to lullabies which their mothers sing,
Dreaming of sunny days, and bright stars twinkling!
The Moon smiles again and blinks an eye
And stars twinkle to say good bye!
Dreams are nice, dreams are great
Dreams are a wonderful lovely mate…!
Rajdeep Pathak
August 1, 2010
Let me once again see the clear sky
The clouds make different faces
As I watch children and their races!
The race against time has passed
As men sit and count their cards
Kings and Queens and Knights and Pawns
The cavalry men join to sing a song…!
Women in the warmth of the hearth sit and bake
Cakes and buns, their preferred take;
Some knitters do circle the neck
As others join to stitch their hands!
Birds chirp and dogs bark,
While a cat does her favourite walk!
Little drops of rain from the sky
Takes the happiness at an all-time high
Flowers blossom and green adorns the branches of trees
While mermaids seem dancing in the water down the lakes!
The dark clouds have passed by
And the Church bells chime and gain!
There’s music in air, there’s music in all hearts;
There’s laughter in air and no signs of pain.
The Moon hums a tune to twinkling stars;
In the clear sky with no clouds around as bars!
The night sky shimmers, cutting through the darkness
All fair play and signs of calmness!
Far away, children sleep to lullabies which their mothers sing,
Dreaming of sunny days, and bright stars twinkling!
The Moon smiles again and blinks an eye
And stars twinkle to say good bye!
Dreams are nice, dreams are great
Dreams are a wonderful lovely mate…!
Rajdeep Pathak
August 1, 2010
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Dark Spells in Lost Paradise
They shut their eyes in frenzied dreams
Possessed by grief, they neither cried nor spoke
Life was shattered once again….
The Valley has always been so deceptive
The calmness around came from the smoke and dust
Of the mines and bullets and parts of limbs
That lay on the streets….
Red! The paths now were only painted Red!
And black adorned the veils of folks
As a mother watched silently….
She looked as if she knew
Her child would come back
And that no bullets could ever pierce him!
But she stood still and watched
Wailing and Waiting….
Her arms were frozen and eyes still, but wet;
They stretched far across the end of the road
Where the mourners’ procession began and moved along
She stretched to embrace her child but only hard corpse she lifted…
Where’s he gone?
She knew, but believed not
She became still, again…
Five, ten, fifteen, folks gathered by her,
Some stirred her, some questioned…
She spoke in a voice no one heard
She made some signs and few caught!
Then she pointed to the right
And moved her eyes to the left
Shattered pieces of limbs lay across
In thick hot blood that kept flowing
Slowly from the body that was blown to pieces…
“He was playing marbles when they struck
And blew him off…
Five bullets and one grenade
Took his life off
His clothes were torn, his body flung
Into the air, and I, silently stood”,
Said the Mother kneeling down…
She rose again picking up her dead child,
From the bloody dead street into her arms;
His broken limbs she too gathered…
Quietly she joined the mourners who beat their breasts and
Cried along,
Leaving the smoke and pieces of bullets
And stains of blood behind…
To the graveyard!
“I’m not the one alone,
There are many mothers and wives
Many husbands and orphans,
Many sisters and brothers
Who’ll be laid to rest!
Some with broken heart, many with torn limbs
Many more with lost dreams…” she moaned.
Dust and strewn pieces of bullets and grenades
Red streets and hoax cry of
Leaders – have become a day’s routine
In the Valley of death – of lost paradise!
The Valley sleeps in silence, again!
Dangerous calmness! Dangerous silence!
The dark night of dangerous man-made evil spells
Has awaken… never to sleep again!
Year after year, days after days,
The deceiving trick of calmness
Has stained the streets with blood and bullets
And left marks of unending sadness
And grief!
When will the black robes and veils and
The mourner’s procession end
In this deceptive Valley of the lost paradise?
When will mothers stop turning stone?
When will children again play marbles?
When will women fearlessly raise children?
When will men be merry again?
When will mines and bullets and grenades
Stop tearing the hearts?
When will silence and grief stop entering the doors of houses?
When will calmness be really calm?
When will men become men?
When will life be able to breathe…?
Possessed by grief, they neither cried nor spoke
Life was shattered once again….
The Valley has always been so deceptive
The calmness around came from the smoke and dust
Of the mines and bullets and parts of limbs
That lay on the streets….
Red! The paths now were only painted Red!
And black adorned the veils of folks
As a mother watched silently….
She looked as if she knew
Her child would come back
And that no bullets could ever pierce him!
But she stood still and watched
Wailing and Waiting….
Her arms were frozen and eyes still, but wet;
They stretched far across the end of the road
Where the mourners’ procession began and moved along
She stretched to embrace her child but only hard corpse she lifted…
Where’s he gone?
She knew, but believed not
She became still, again…
Five, ten, fifteen, folks gathered by her,
Some stirred her, some questioned…
She spoke in a voice no one heard
She made some signs and few caught!
Then she pointed to the right
And moved her eyes to the left
Shattered pieces of limbs lay across
In thick hot blood that kept flowing
Slowly from the body that was blown to pieces…
“He was playing marbles when they struck
And blew him off…
Five bullets and one grenade
Took his life off
His clothes were torn, his body flung
Into the air, and I, silently stood”,
Said the Mother kneeling down…
She rose again picking up her dead child,
From the bloody dead street into her arms;
His broken limbs she too gathered…
Quietly she joined the mourners who beat their breasts and
Cried along,
Leaving the smoke and pieces of bullets
And stains of blood behind…
To the graveyard!
“I’m not the one alone,
There are many mothers and wives
Many husbands and orphans,
Many sisters and brothers
Who’ll be laid to rest!
Some with broken heart, many with torn limbs
Many more with lost dreams…” she moaned.
Dust and strewn pieces of bullets and grenades
Red streets and hoax cry of
Leaders – have become a day’s routine
In the Valley of death – of lost paradise!
The Valley sleeps in silence, again!
Dangerous calmness! Dangerous silence!
The dark night of dangerous man-made evil spells
Has awaken… never to sleep again!
Year after year, days after days,
The deceiving trick of calmness
Has stained the streets with blood and bullets
And left marks of unending sadness
And grief!
When will the black robes and veils and
The mourner’s procession end
In this deceptive Valley of the lost paradise?
When will mothers stop turning stone?
When will children again play marbles?
When will women fearlessly raise children?
When will men be merry again?
When will mines and bullets and grenades
Stop tearing the hearts?
When will silence and grief stop entering the doors of houses?
When will calmness be really calm?
When will men become men?
When will life be able to breathe…?
RAJDEEP PATHAK
July 25, 2010
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Silence your greatest critic - You!
Silence your greatest critic - You!
Many people spend a great deal of energy arguing for their own limitations; “I can’t do that,” “I can’t help it, I’ve always been that way,” and thousands of other negative and self-defeating statements.
Our minds are powerful instruments. When we decide that something is true or beyond our reach, it’s very difficult to pierce through this self-created hurdle.
Suppose, for example, you tell yourself, “I can’t write,” You’ll look for examples to prove your position. You’ll remember your poor essays in high school, or recall how awkward you felt the last time you sat down to write a letter. You’ll fill your head with limitations that will frighten you from trying.
In order to become a writer or anything else, the first step is to silence your greatest critic --- YOU!
Many people spend a great deal of energy arguing for their own limitations; “I can’t do that,” “I can’t help it, I’ve always been that way,” and thousands of other negative and self-defeating statements.
Our minds are powerful instruments. When we decide that something is true or beyond our reach, it’s very difficult to pierce through this self-created hurdle.
Suppose, for example, you tell yourself, “I can’t write,” You’ll look for examples to prove your position. You’ll remember your poor essays in high school, or recall how awkward you felt the last time you sat down to write a letter. You’ll fill your head with limitations that will frighten you from trying.
In order to become a writer or anything else, the first step is to silence your greatest critic --- YOU!
Friday, April 30, 2010
THE SILENT SEARCH
Oh! Silence; Can you hear
The voice of the dark night
That has spread its wings
Far and wide?
It’s the night of silence and
Yet there seems a little voice that
Calls you…
The wild call of the heart – the soul
Yearns for a pleasant space in this
Moment of solitude and peace.
The noise of the soft blowing wind
And the curves of the sea too disturbs
This ‘dark’ silence! The hour rests, while
The ‘Soul’ makes a soft exit into the wild –
In search of peace!
Silent woods, the soul hits the rocks, fears
The fall --- the silence breaks. The fire within
Burns and grips the wild woods; the sleepy logs;
The rusted branches; the withered leaves and
The fallen trees!
Broken silence, wondering soul,
Motionless heart runs wild for
The pieces – clubbing each back to the silent
Post – the call still remains wild?
Dusty wind blows off the fire, hitting
The silent posts again! The pain, the last notes
Written flies away too, while the finger
Makes a slight movement towards the woods –
The fire rises; still burns within.
Silent voices make few noises…
Silent still, the dark wings fly high
And strong, enveloping the night sky!
Stung once more, the ‘Soul’
Breaks free as the waters
Flow gently, yet breaking the silence!
The voice of the agony in this ‘Silent’
Night is heard no more.
Silence clings, silently lingers…!
The voice of the dark night
That has spread its wings
Far and wide?
It’s the night of silence and
Yet there seems a little voice that
Calls you…
The wild call of the heart – the soul
Yearns for a pleasant space in this
Moment of solitude and peace.
The noise of the soft blowing wind
And the curves of the sea too disturbs
This ‘dark’ silence! The hour rests, while
The ‘Soul’ makes a soft exit into the wild –
In search of peace!
Silent woods, the soul hits the rocks, fears
The fall --- the silence breaks. The fire within
Burns and grips the wild woods; the sleepy logs;
The rusted branches; the withered leaves and
The fallen trees!
Broken silence, wondering soul,
Motionless heart runs wild for
The pieces – clubbing each back to the silent
Post – the call still remains wild?
Dusty wind blows off the fire, hitting
The silent posts again! The pain, the last notes
Written flies away too, while the finger
Makes a slight movement towards the woods –
The fire rises; still burns within.
Silent voices make few noises…
Silent still, the dark wings fly high
And strong, enveloping the night sky!
Stung once more, the ‘Soul’
Breaks free as the waters
Flow gently, yet breaking the silence!
The voice of the agony in this ‘Silent’
Night is heard no more.
Silence clings, silently lingers…!
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