The question is, Am I good enough?

Tough Asks, Tough efforts.

Saawan Beeto Jaye Peharwa
Mann Mera Ghabraye
Aeso Gaye Pardes Piya Tum
Cheyn Humein Nahin Aye

Mora Saiyaan Moh Sey Bolay Na
Mein Laakh Jatan Kar Haari

Tu Jo Nahin to Aisay Piya hum
Jaisay Soona Aanganaa
Nain Tehaari Raah Neeharey
Nainnan Ko Tarsao Na

Pyar Tumhain Kitna Kartay Hain
Tum Yeh Samajh Nahin Pao gay
Jab Hum Na Hongay to Peharwa
Bolo Kya Tab Aao gay

Mora Saiyaan moh Sey Bolay Na
Laakh Jatan Kar Haar Rahi

Yearning...

Its been raining outside continuously, anonymously. The drizzly silhouette of a couple under an umbrella behind the smoke of the raindrops is what I can make out. Someday, I would like us to walk in this drizzle, at this time of the night, anonymously, chippering and chattering along, with the sides of our shirts getting wet, escaping the large puddle formed in the road crater and swearing at the car which just went by, splashing the dirt flowered water soiling our wet feet. And then we would have a corn cheese sandwich and walk back lusting for some hot tea, and then stopping at a tea stall, and sitting on the wooden planks, more rotten than wet and shivering slightly and smiling lightly. And then, we would walk back the same way, and we would again get wet in the rain which is now something more than just a drizzle. And you would feel warm in just the way I would hold you and walk.

Once more you open the door...

" I realized that despite the fear and the bruises of life, one has to keep on fighting for one's dream." - Paulo Coelho

An unsent letter

Now,
I am a blasphemy.
Mayhem rules me.

I was.
Once upon a time,
I was the one who every country big and small desired to be.
Again, twice upon a time,
I was the one who became the plasma for creation.
Again, thrice upon a time,
I was worshipped for my tenacity and struggle and fight for independence.

And now,
I think,
I was.
I had pots of sculpted gold.
I had hands scripting delicacies.
I had grey matter innovating.
I had.

Why is it I am veering towards the past?
Why is it I am using the past participle to evoke that emotion?
I am in the present, yet I was?

I am independent. I need you all to rise up. I need you all to start saying the right things. I know you are, already. But now, I need you to stop saying those right things, and start working. Words catalyze, actions sustain the reaction.

I have reached the bottom of this bottomless pit. You have to accept this. I have no able administration. I am just a couple of doors behind absolute anarchy. I have been able to redefine the boundaries of corruption. But all is not lost, and that is, because, you are there. It's time.

Why are you all staring around? Have you not been able to understand it's you who I am talking to? Yes you, and you, and you...

It is only when you all will account yourself to yourself with the same intensity as you blame the other rascal, that I will be what I was again. The future beckons. For the first time, I have referred to future. Don't disappoint me. You have to stick it out. We have to stick it out.

I will be where I was.


For now,
I am India.

I have always felt "My heart will go on" would sound incredible in a male baritone. Celine Dion with her soundtrack never fails to raise the goose-pimples on me every time I hear it. But I would love to hear it in Ronan Keating-esque or a Scott Stapp voice.

Some YouTube scrubbing, I fail to come up with a satisfactory answer, but what I found was a somewhat funny sounding power metal cover and a few digitally lowered pitch versions.

Weird are the people who upload the digitally altered versions as male versions and weirder are those who click like on those.

Ignited minds

" There are success stories among failures. There is hope among chaos, promise among problems. We are one billion people with multiple faiths and ideologies. In the absence of a national vision, cracks at the seam keep surfacing and make us vulnerable. There is a need to reinforce this seam and amalgamate us into one national forum. "
   - A.P.J Abdul Kalam

On another note.
" For great men, religion is a way of making friends; small people make religion a fighting tool. "
   -A.P.J Abdul Kalam

2 hours. Powerful. Dreams.
Ignited minds.

The boy who lived: As I remember him

A long story.

An old bearded man.

Heartless relatives.

A lonely boy.

Orphan.

A hairy giant.

An all knowing friend.

A red haired git of a pal.

A good looking rival.

A horrific past.

A slimy evil.

A scarred destiny.

He who must not be named.

Fantasy riddled.

A magic castle.

Kings battlefield on a chess board.

A snake's tale.

A philosopher's stone.

Broom games.

Scarlet and green.

Phoenix tears.

A new tale everytime.

New addiction.

Parseltongue.

Arachnids.

Norbit.

Animagus transforms.

The blue Albus twinkle.

The sacrifice of a mother.

The love of a father.

The flight from death.

A prisoner who fled.

Clockturner.

Blast Ended Skrewts

Pumpkin Patch.

Azkaban.

Padfoot.

Prongs.

Moony.

Wormtail.

Butterbeer.

Marauders map.

Room of requirement.

Cat, Rat & Dog.

A master with a servant who owes a favour to the Chosen One.

Godfather.

Quidditch Cup.

A goblet which sparked up a fourth time.

Triwizard tournament.

Durmstrang.

Beauxbaton.

Dragons.

Moaning myrtle.

Dragon eggs.

Mad Eye.

Polyjuice Potion.

The lost loyal servant.

A brave but calm death.

Return of the skilled torturer.

The dark mark.

Death eaters.

Duel.

Priori Incantatem.

An adolescent boy.

Teenage desires.

Dementors.

Expecto Patronum.

Self doubts.

Solitude.

Solace.

The first kiss.

DA.

Pink sneer.

I will never lie again.

Ministry of magic.

The duel of the two greatest magicians.

Snuffles' final fall.

The half blood prince.

Snivellus.

True love.

Horcrux.

Basilisk venom.

A faraway cave.

Inferi.

Dark magic.

The greatest wizard is no more.

Killed by the one whom he trusted the most.

Betrayal.

Tears.

Respect.

Centaurs.

He chose to die.

Revelations.

Horcrux hunt.

Dark motions.

Gloom.

Dark times.

Murder left and right.

Holey.

Seven Potters.

Meadows.

Godric's hollow.

Grindelwald.

Return of Polyjuice action.

Pensieve memories.

Tale of the Brave man.

The war for Hogwarts.

The seven broken parts

Nagini.

Tom Riddle diary.

Ravenclaw Diadem.

Marvolo Guant Ring.

Hufflepuff Cup.

Salazar Locket.

Harry Potter.

Hallows.

Elder Wand.

Resurrection Stone.

Cloak of Invisibility.

Avada Kedavra.

Expelliarmus.

The boy who lived.

Love. The solution, the power, the will, the belief.

I also remember,

And will continue to.

The bravest man who lived.

The slimy evil.

The epitome of love which was never fulfilled.

The story of a desire which is the shadow behind the lightning scar.

The story which makes a part of me.

A long story.

Indeed.

Nostalgia.

Faith.

Memories.