nameless/fateless

Long time and even though wembelling thoughts resurrecting my heart, whining my brain yet an inability to write regularly is exactly how I potray myself on the face of talents.Just now when I opened the sheet the page displayed showed title heading and then the writing font screen ........it made me think how does one write and how should one write and what is the right way of writing............should the name /title be given first and then story continued as per the predicament or should the overflowing thoughts be elicited on the page and then carefully scrutinised to give the heading ........what do most people do and what do great writers do........is not there a general way of doing it ......is the general way of doing it the right way of doing it or is the uncommon way of doing it makes the wriitng popular .......can someone go back in the middle of writing and name the article and then keep writing again.....what would readers like to read.........how would they know what was written first and wht made the article end the way it did.......will the lil facts or bigger fictions entice them .......words poured out enthrustingly elude them or they will just not find it appealing coz it just doesnot match there experiences or it wont suit the temperament with which they are reading .........why is a good writing bad if the reader has a different notion and what is the fault of the writer coz he is not the one who chooses his reader .........reader is the one who chooses him and in this random picking why is the writers ability being questioned without he having a say or control............finally i was wonderingis not the above facts all so true for LIFE too .........we just don't have control over things that happens to us........despite of whatever we do why do we have to bear fruits of felony even though all we have done is nurtured

hurt

When do you think you were hurt the last time?I know everyone knows a mental state of issue is always more relevant than a physical one but can we also compare the mental agony received from an event to yet another .Is there a way to measure if the incident was trifle so the way we reacted was different from the one where we were MORE hurt.........can we actually define that more/less state .Everytime I am hurt I try to pacify myself thinking this is not the worst that could happen so I have to build up the courage to pave my life and move ahead but sometimes life feels so stuck .No matter how hard you try you can't just forget the past nor can you deal with the present both of it hurting just the same way ,not a bit forgotten and not even a bit healed.

I once read a book WHY PEOPLE DO WHAT THEY DO and it seemed like eveyrone could justify their own actions and could pose a rationale behind their deeds but when you thrust on the nerve cords it feels many a time that there are so many things around us which are in absolute terms wrong yet happening .So that keeps me wondering who is in charge of the occurence- the one who did ,or the one because of who that happened or God without whose wish nothing can happen ...........what I ponder over more is who is going to stop it and WHEN/HOW.

Sometimes when we look around we see our problems have the same characteristics which we have THEY ARE SO UNIQUE.Why can't God give us same kind of problems if he created us all the same way even though unique in our own way .If you counteract me by saying that problems are cause of our deeds then God gives consequences then I wonder why God does not control the matter from the beginning rather than watching and waiting .

Who did we learn the art of hatredness from ?our mother ?our friends ?certainly not but we definitely have it inside us just the prospects change so I wonder who created it and who taught it to us ?Why does everyone have to be mean in their bigger and littlER ways ?is that the only way of surviving a contented life?I have so many thoughts in my mind now but not a single answer ?

the drop of rain

I got down from my SUV and a drop of rain fell on my hand just when i came out.Flashed in did the sight of the blue umbrella that I keep in my car .My daughter not only the ruler of our heart but also the primeminister of our home would cry not only at the drop of a hat but also at the drop of a rain.........hence the umbrella......thats when i began wondering how many drops of memories does this rain drop bear in it for me.
Which drop would be a drop in your memory later i do not know but i wish to narrate drop by drop .........it was the fall of 99 when i finished my college and went to the college on a'' if not but yet''kind of rainy day ....no rain anywhere yet loads of those in heart as it was the result declaration time .......I always knew what kind of a student I am and believe it or not even though it sounds strange I always had a book where i wrote my marks ad the final percentage even before I got my results and unfailingly it matched everytime ........I know what I am sounds like a too much of egotist but yes I am not shy to say i do believe in myself and God has never discriminated this thought of mine but people judge you by your past rather than by your future so result declaration is one time when it is record keeping time and raising your credibility for the ones who have HOPES on you.Not that I am after some kind of accredition from Harry/Sally but yes there are people who I want to see happy and hearty.And if my actions could be a way of happiness for them I would not resent from the activity .........so here you go my results as mentioned in the diary of mine ............I thanked god for not being judgmental on my confidence and making the writings go through a decent verification with a desired percentage.
Now I come out and hug my mom standing outside unable to say that your fear is my love and I have to take it form you everytime you have one!!just then i realise one drop of water fell on my hand and then it started raining all of a sudden .Even though sounds dramatic things sometimes happen that way dont you believe it ?and even to this date I donot know if that drop on my hand was a tear from her eyes or a raindrop because with tht drop of water on my hand it was an outburst from both the sky and the eyes .....the brevity of the moment didnot let me realise who reached me first.......who touched me first yet that was one drop i would never forget ................

second story:
I was deeply and madly in love with him and he would look at me and smile at me everytime it rained for we shared the same flair for big words and sayings and our brains just worked in such similar ways not to mention once read together a thing we could relate instantly with just looks.........so everytime it rained he looked and reminded me that our love fable is exactly like the popular quantification of love where in he loved me as much as the drops of rain that fell on me and very well knew that I loved him as much as the drops of rain that missed to touch him........so this was another afternoon hour when we both sat not hand in hand but eye on eye .I dont know but I really wonder how can man be that emotionless, that stagnant that he can't read your emotions while he talks ............how can someone talk all the illogical things of the whole world and try to justify it and how can the other person pretend all the time as if nothing has happpened and let go just because she loves him.........this time he spoke about the new girl in his college .........the new girl who was not so charming yet looked fascinating as she hurried into the practical class totally drenched in rain .I did not really understand what to do..........if I resent to something the answer would be I have nothing in mind thats why I could be so frank else I wud hv hidden it had I got things in my mind ...........if you tell me before you kill me are you not killing me ......is that not a sin and can be justified as a bliss.........does that make my pain less ........i think it makes my pain worse for me dying is one thing and me knowing that you are the cause of my death is another thing.........I didnot say a word to the swift flow of one sided discussion and fun that happened that noon but I came home and could not stop imagining the droplets of rain that fell on her ..........the cajoling of her hair on her cheeks and the looks of thoughtless emotionless boys around.............yes readers you have every right to think of me as being paranoid to things .....little things but little things one by one are the biggest contributor of collapsing a relationship thats why they say a stitch in time saves nine...........by that evening I had absloutely realised m not able to spun the threads and weave the relationship well to hold it for lasting a lifetime ...........nor did I have the patience to hear of these little things anymore for my heart was too little even for the littlEST thing after so many little things and I decided to make this the last one .................called him up to end this and he would not even respond properly for he was busy with some college performa coming up.........Anyways I ended it.............I tried to atleast ...............and kept on thinking abt the emotionless relentless ,unthinkable heartless mind of a man wherein he cant stop his instincts and I wonder why rain is so popular ..........anyways i had to stop I knew that even if we could not talk ..................and then one day he called after i had hail cheeks with frozen tears inside me unable to come out anymore .........I didnot respond anymore ...............and went to the balcony to watch the rain ...........the rain which swaded away my love story even though it was not at fault,It was just an occurence .To this date I don't know if I ruined the relationship or he did but I sure do know the rain drops played a cynosural role.I dont blame him for anything more and myself for anyting less but one thing was sure we were not compatible in the emotional scale.

The rust on me

How do you feel when you think of rust.......thats exactly what I am .I am not there originally but born over the years of mishandling and misuse perhaps also due to negligence and nonacceptance.The oxblood of rose might look pretty to everyone but the red on me is so not encouraging .No one sees me bleeding but eveyrone admires my complexion when the sun at dusk takes my color.Why am I so underappreciated and treated as junk when I am not a creation of my own I am here because this is what you made me and now you dont want me.......WHERE DO I GO?
I remember myself as a child fortunate enough like you my dear reader who had hands to hold ,shoulders to lean and hearts full of love to swade away all my pain.Amidst all this was the decision ,The decision of giving away my heart, lending my soul