Desh Ki Beti by Megha Barthwal

I take pride in welcoming you again to Few Miles. Megha, my colleague at work, an enthusiastic poet, is back with a poem. This time in Hindi Language... DESK KI BETI!

Here you go… the stage is all yours!

Mai desh ki beti kehti hu,
Mai desh ke dil mein rehti hu;
Jahan dharti ko maa kehte hai,
Un saanso me m behti hu.

Yaha puja meri hoti hai,
Phir rooh kyu meri roti hai;
Sab kathan paraye lagte hai,
Sab log paraye lagte hai.

Ye jag kyu mujhse rutha hai?
Ye pyar bhala kyu jhuta hai?
Kyu bhoz mje sb kehte hai?
Meri aankho mein bhi sapne rehte hai.

Mai kokh mein hi mar jati hu,
Kyu mai kisi ko bhi na bhaati hu?
Yadi janma bhi di jati hu,
Mar mar kar hi ji paati hu.

Tooti chattano si mein dehti hu.
Har baar mai hi kyu sehti hu?
Mai desh ki beti kehti hu,
Mai desh ke dil m rehti hu.

Mai khoon ke aansu piti hu,
Bhs dar dar kar mai jiti hu.
Aawaz nhi m reeti hu,
Har naari ki aap-beeti hu.

Mujhe jhukao nhi, mje dabao nhi,
Ab chahe jitna chahoge na rok mje tum paoge.

Na roko mujhe na toko mujhe,
Mai vishva ka ujiyara hu.

Maa kasie tune tyag dia? Aakhir m ansh tumhara hu.
Mai aandhi hu mai junoon hu, pita tumhara hi to mai khoon hu.

Jo ab na zhukna chahte hai un aanko ki mai seepi hu.
Mai dekh ki beti kehti hu.
Mai desh ke dil mein rehti hu.

MESSAGE TO YOU, SARAV

Thanks a lot for giving me an opportunity to exhibit my writing. Now I am feeling more confident that I can continue to write more. Thanks for showing confidence on me.

A day without you :'-|

There’s always poet inside you. All you need is to express yourself in a language you feel comfortable. Of course, you need a small bit of encouragement and self-confidence to give wings to the poet in you. Luckily, I have many such sweethearts in life. And, that's pretty much the reason for expressing myself.

Megha Barthwal, my colleague at work, an enthusiastic soul, is one such talented heart. On this special day, I’m privileged to introduce Megha to Blog-o-sphere, and let your pen create magic.

Here you go… the stage is all yours!

Passing along the morning mist,
Sound of flowers' gist.
Indeed I see a world waking their eyes.
Though, I’m holding a long so list.

What all to do, what all can I do?
I want to leave all regrets and remorse,
Inside me hidden some strong force.
My burning desire, my eyes too liar.
My body so feeble, my voice not so audible...
Still pushing me so forward in a condition so awkward,
But all together strengthening me so deep;
All my inner voice emerging a bleep.

That I am so brave, and I am strong fist.
I have to forget when you very first kissed;
I have to move on and show me myself.
Coz I do exist! Coz I do exist!

Leaving behind the warmth of your touch,
Also want to forget so way do you judged.
My lips too will carry the smile I tucked;
I have to prove, I am no more a smudge.

I want to feel that I am also ‘I’,
I want to see that it’s not a lie.
I want to know I’m not so frail to cry,
I want to understand, you are no more of my.

Just a day without you, I want to live;
Now no more time I want to forgive.
Just one more chance myself I want to so give;
Just one more determination am going to outlive.

If one day I can so, daily I do.
I am thankful to you, and now I bid you adieu.

MESSAGE TO YOU, SARAV

Thanks a lot for giving me an opportunity to exhibit my writing. It's the first time I am writing for any blog and feeling more confident that I can continue to write more. Thanks for showing confidence on me.

To Your Mighty Pen

Looking over the limitless sky
and the clouds passing by
In that fleeting moment
I realized life's secret endowment

Season changes and mood swings
With the setting sun rests the bird's wings
The horizon converge to close its eyes
Draping the black blanket it winks and sighs

The moon then wraps to wake sun up to see
Birds taking another flight and so do we
Time falls short for us to give love and receive
Only if we could learn from the nature to believe

An entrance is only possible after an exit
Keep patience until it turns and exhibit
Things broken apart would come together
Flaunt your mighty pen. May come whatever
-Simran Kaur

Happy 7th Blogoversary, ❤Few Miles❤

Read more

~ our love must live till eternity ~

There’s always poet inside you. All you need is to express yourself in a language you feel comfortable. Of course, you need a small bit of encouragement and self-confidence to give wings to the poet in you. Luckily, I have many such sweethearts in life. And, that's pretty much the reason for expressing myself.

Dev Mishra, is one such talented sweetheart, whom I admire in my friends list. On this special day, I’m feeling proud, welcoming Dev to Few Miles to pen down a poem on love.

Here you go… the stage is all yours!

The more I see you,
The more is the urge in me;
Every moment you seem something new
And I wish to see till eternity !

The desire to live was never so strong,
My life before was only mine ;
But now we have to walk along
And cross the borders of death and Time.

In you I see a fulfilled wish,
A promise of a better tomorrow ;
With you,my life is only bliss,
We can smilingly subside all the sorrow.

My dreams exceeded their limit,
My life found a purpose true;
With you, O yeah, I'm complete
And I need you. I love you.

Even when my days are tough,
Your smile fills my heart with glee ;
And I swear this life will not be enough,
Our love must live till eternity...

MESSAGE TO YOU, SARAV

LOVE STORIES AROUND US was the first anthology that included both of us for the first time. However, it was FRIENDSHIP - our second anthology together where he was the editor - that deepened our friendship. SHADES OF LIFE furthered our camaraderie. I can confidently say that writes with a certain kind of flair and flamboyance. Even while writing poetry, he is brilliant and 'Donnesque', as Dr. P.K. Mohanty, winner of the Central Sahitya Academy award, puts it meticulously. I wish him all the best for his future endeavours.

♥ 6 Years ♥

Six years in Blog-o-sphere. I am super-duper excited! It sounds like yesterday I started writing at my blog, and I never thought that time would fly this fast. The journey from an unknown writer to the compiler and editor of two books is exciting like heaven, and I wish this journey continues forever till eternity. This would not have happened without the constant support of my sweet mom, my wonderful wife, my other family members, my editors – right from Vinit Bhai (Uff Ye Emotions 2 Editor) to all the eight wonderful sweethearts I have worked with so far, my wonderful publisher Sachin and PG, my blogger friends for staying with me right from day one – Leo, Zainab, Rachana, Jingle, Simran, Ayushi, Pranali, Aish, TF, Saru, Brian, G-Man, Amity, Vibz, Nanka, Scribbling Gal, Dreamy Girl, Cloud Nine, Sri Valli, Panchali, Norman, Ellecee, Sulaiman, Namrata, Anita and my anonymous readers whose emails I always treasure.

Thank you all for making this journey special. Special thanks to IndiBlogger, for the grand platform, to Blog-a-Ton, for everything I own from them and to BlogAdda for announcing my name to blog-o-sphere in 2010.

And I made this collage to recall all that happened from day one. Hope you will like it :D

I want to celebrate this day in a unique way. That’s the reason I invited the contributing authors of Friendship- Bonds Beyond Time anthology to share a few words. Thank you Simran, Mahesh, Prakash and… (I'll add more as I receive) I hope you enjoyed reading them :D

Happy Birthday Few Miles by Simran Kaur

I heartily congratulate you Sarav for not only completing six golden years of blogging but achieving more than that. Few Miles, a perfect epitome of love and romance won my heart right from the first time I visited it. Every memory of it is still fresh in mind and it feels good to revisit them every now and then...celebrating our friendship. It's not just a blog but a beautiful home of emotions weaved through words alone. The best part...It's been five years and we still continue to cover miles after miles together. I feel fortunate to be part of this wonderful journey. Wish you many many more success miles to cover in coming future.

Let your pen speak
all that you hold in heart
because there are millions
who live by it part by part

Let your pen speak
those unsaid words
because that's how
this journey started
as a bud...

Let the bud of thoughts
come out and flourish
because it is meant
to spread happiness
and cover yet another
mile of love and peace

While I walk down the memory aisle...there is this beautiful reminisce...one that inspired me to write...to dream...to...

Posted by Ayushi Khare on Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Alive by Mahesh Sowani

I stand beneath the Peepal Tree
Its rustling lively green leaves
Make me realize its life
It has been here for ages
And so am I
It is alive
And so am I
While I have been alive for such long
Why did it take so long
for me to realize its liveliness?
May be
It was always what it was
I had to make efforts
To be what I always was

Prakash Guru

Life is beautiful because it is made up of people albeit some are good and some are bad, while some are just amazing and I was lucky enough to meet two of the most amazing people, yeah Sachin and Sarav. When Sarav asked me to write some words on the occasion of 6 years of Few Miles, an incredibly well constructed blog with posts that shall make you revisit it every now and then, I felt like a tyro in front of this humongous blog. If it was not for the efforts of Sarav, Shades Publications would have been still crawling. No doubt Sachin and I were always there from its inception, but it was Sarav who brought about a change by his witty imaginations and methods. On this occasion of 6 years of Few Miles, I wish and hope that shades shall walk a few more miles and may be till eternity in the hands of Sarav and his team.

Thank You Sarav for everything, a prolific writer but more than that an incredibly great human being. I wish you all the success and happiness in your life.

As a token of friendship, I have hosted a very small giveaway on Goodreads. The giveaway is open for all Indian Residents. They giveaway closes on November 30, 2015. The results will be announced on Goodreads and the book will be sent to the winners.

Goodreads Book Giveaway

Friendship Bonds Beyond Time

by Saravana Kumar Murugan

Giveaway ends November 30, 2015.

See the giveaway details
at Goodreads.

Enter Giveaway

I love comments. I will be back with an interesting post soon.

Till then, take care.

Have a great week ahead!

Prost! (Cheers)

What If?

Welcome to the last day of the guest posts series!

What If I had to start his intro like he wrote the post? What If I had not been to Blog-o-sphere? Would I be friend today with this fantastic poet (my Haiku master) who likes to be called by his nickname? Maybe… or May not be, but we are happy for being writer friends today!

Eight years he has been breathing in Blogsville and five years along with me, he is a fantastic rhyming poet, a talented fiction writer, and a certified book reviewer. Still he calls himself an amateur poet!

He rhymes without reason, because for him writing is love, an art that he is trying to be perfect. (He is the perfectionist!).

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome my friend, Vinay Leo R of I Rhyme Without Reason (my favorite poet) to pen down his thoughts. The stage is all yours da!

What if I had not been to Blog-a-Ton? Would I be friends today with this famous blogger who goes by the name Saravana, or Someone is Special? Our blogging rivers might have crossed and found the same ocean sometime later, but who’s to know if we’d have met in the ocean that is Blogsville.

What if I had not found his blog? I’d have missed out on some nice romantic stories, that’s for sure. It is this dude’s forte. He thrives on it. And yes, a couple of posts (at least) on the maestro Sachin. And some haiku, but I need to have a long chat with him on the form. Not on chat. So he better stop eating hamburgers in Hamburg and return to the garden city where we can discuss it over masala dosa.

What if I had not met him in person? I wouldn’t have had some nice talks. I think the first time we met, we discussed mobiles. We had the same one then, if I remember. We discussed God knows what in the presence of God, coz we met at ISKCON during a blogger’s meet, but the time flew by. Maybe it’s this camaraderie that makes him say I’m his brother, and part of his family, which I’m glad to be.

What if I had not had that camaraderie? Well, not something I think of, so no answer to that. But I wouldn’t have been friends with the super friendly, brilliant cook and pretty gal who is Someone in Special’s special someone (credits to CS who coined this term). VV, hope you’re feeling better now, out of that Germany weather and back home. I do miss you on Candy Crush Saga :P

What if I had not been friends with VV? Well, that’s for a different guest post. This one’s for Saravana. LOL. Sarav asked me to guest post on the theme “5” which is odd, coz come March 2015, it’d be 5 years since we became friends. This post is written like that topic on which he debuted on BAT, "What If". Like I began this guest post, we met on Blog-a-Ton, which he marshals now. I wanted to write a 5 star story for him, but the last 5 days have been hectic, and it’d have been a story of an irritated software engineer, which would drive away all his fans, so I thought I’d walk down memory lane instead. And this is the 5th paragraph of this "What If" post too. So lots of fives for you, SiS. Hi5. ;)

I’m not one to ramble on in posts, so I’ll keep it short, wish the host and his missus a wonderful, happy and successful New Year 2015, and sign off saying this little amateur poet is happy to have a special friend in Saravana Kumar “Someone is Special” Murugan.

P.S: I’ll try the 5-star story sometime when the hectic schedule gives some leeway and send you to post here in 2015. For now, adjust maadi.

Thank you so much Leo for writing the last post of the guest post series. It is my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading!

காதல்

Welcome to Day 6 of the guest posts series!

Today’s guest writer is an anonymous writer dedicating all the poems to someone special in life, a passionate Tamil lover, and a God gifted personality. Okay, let me welcome the anonymous writer to pen down a Tamil poem. The stage is all yours!

காதல் எனக்கு

கண்ணாய்
காற்றாய்,
கிலிஞ்சலாய்
கீதமாய்,
குழந்தையாய்,
கூந்தலாய்,
கெம்பட்டிகையாய்,
கேணியாய்,
கைக்குழந்தையாய்,
கொண்டலாய்,
கோவலனாய்,
கௌஸ்துபமாய்,

நீயாய் நானாய்,
நாமாய் காதலால்,
காதல் ஆவோம்!

Thank you so much anonymous writer for writing the sixth post of the guest post series. It is my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading!

Five

Welcome to Day 5 of the guest posts series!

Today’s guest writer is an ex-Software Engineer, now a life’s Student, a PhD Researcher, a passionate Blogger, a magical Story-Teller, a picture perfect photographer, and an explorer. She is gifted with ideas, creativity and originality. Her works have been published in many magazines including Femina and Filmfare and The New Indian Express. Her blog is a place for exploring miracles.

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome Anita of The Explorer of Miracles to pen down her thoughts. The stage is all yours!

I thought of 5 & my mind sprung up the following -
Olympic Games symbol has 5 inter-locked rings;
5 Ks of Sikh by Guru Govind Singh;
5 is the number of sides in a Pentagon;
5 is the Atomic Number of Boron;
Enid Blyton's Famous Five book series;
High-Five of friends makes us say cheese;
5 toes & 5 fingers on each foot & hand;
The Star on the Christmas tree & wand!

I thought of the number 5 as it's the fifth anniversary of Sarav's Blog. Congrats Sarav! Wish you many more special milestones on your way!

Thank you so much Anita for writing the fifth post of the guest post series. It is my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading!

5 Little Cupcakes

Welcome to Day 4 of the guest posts series!

Today’s guest writer is basically a dreamer, a very hyperactive student, an enthusiast and a person who seeks peace in what he does. He loves scribbling poems, short stories, and performs a bit of stand up comedy depending up on his mood. His Talk-a-thon series of online podcast is an added addiction to his fans. He could solve the Rubik’s Cube Puzzle in less than a minute. His blog is a mirror reflection of his heart - a dream mausoleum!

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome Sulaiman Sait of Sulaiman's work - my dream mausoleum to pen down his thoughts. The stage is all yours!

Somewhere on the other side of the world, there was a famous baker, who made some of the best cupcakes ever. He bakes every single cupcake with care and love, like he would want to dedicate it to some one special. He ices them with frosting of love and hands it over to everyone who visits him. And, every year, he runs down a few miles to collect every single item, that adds to his secret recipe to success. I have always visited his bakery when I could, ever since I first tasted those cupcakes three years back. Every time I visit, I taste the best cupcakes ever made and always wish to carry a whole lot them back, but leave only with the memory and taste on my taste buds. This time when I visited, there seemed to be something special, blue and white frosting of peppermint and blueberry's were waiting for me. I was about to leave empty handed as usual without anything to say, but he sat beside me and gifted me 5 little cupcakes. I happened to take them home with me to see they tasted like. Each of those 5 little cupcakes tasted different, and left behind a memory and taste of - happiness,morality, love, care and brotherhood.

Thank you so much Sulaiman for writing the fourth post of the guest post series. It was my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading! If you want to read more of Sulaiman's work, stop by his blog. He has recently completed the milestone of 100 blog posts, visit him here and wish him Good Luck.

Epoch

Welcome to Day 3 of the guest posts series!

Today’s guest writer is a wonderful woman, a published author, a blogger with secret things in life which are of little importance, a passionate dancer, a wonderful friend, a non-stop chatter box, a colorful painter, a soulful singer and a die-hard romantic poet. Above all, she is a fantastic soul blessed by God. She loves scribbling about everything and anything that catches her attention in this world. For her writing is like being on a roller coaster ride of emotions. Her writings might make you laugh, make you cry, tug your heart and take a trip down the memory lane – but they all will definitely touch you in some way and set you thinking.

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome Privy Trifles (Namrata) of Memoirs of Me to pen down her thoughts. The stage is all yours!

Sharada stood at the balcony staring at the pitch dark sky aimlessly. Tonight there was no moon and due to clouds even the stars weren’t visible clearly. Not something she would have wanted, but then she had no choice. Tired and fatigue clearly writ on her face the starless sky seemed to reflect her agony so well. Darkness is what she felt deep inside her heart, as if some strange power was pulling her into an abyss from where there was no coming back. She felt utterly helpless not knowing what to do. Was life such a burden for all, she wondered.

As the cool gust of wind touched her body before passing ahead, her mind travelled back in time when such nights were synonymous with exams.
“Sharadaaaa…..its 7:15!” her mother would scream.

“Amma… just 5 minutes more…” she would grumble from beneath the blanket. Since the time eternal Sharada always loved her sleep, for her it was the most precious thing on earth. But it seemed as if everyone was against her thriving love affair with sleep. In kindergarten it was the early morning school and then as the age progressed so did the burden of studies making the sleeping hours lesser and lesser with every passing year.

Once she had reached her high school her mother would sit next to her to ensure she was awake studying till late in the night and would always cajole her with hot cup of coffee, “Just finish these exams then in the vacations you can sleep as much as you want. Promise, no waking you up at all!” She would smile. The gullible Sharada would get excited and start dreaming about sleepy holidays. But the moment vacations arrived her sleeps seemed to vanish like the stars tonight. Reading books till late, watching movies… everything other than sleeping was done in those nights.

She grew up, began working and yet those five minutes of precious sleep that she always fought for seemed to be evading her forever. Time flew by once she got married and had kids; sleep became even more rare and precious. Today she was a fifty year old lady with her kids settled in the lives and a husband who was too busy to notice anything. She smiled as his snores reached her ears, “He cannot even notice my absence on the bed next to him due to my inability to sleep! Oh God! All I want is to have just five minutes of his peaceful sleep… just five. I haven’t slept properly in ages. After all these years I at least deserve that much.” she was almost pleading.

Then she opened her fist, there lay five minutes of sleep nicely coloured and wrapped; waiting for her to make a move.

Thank you so much Namrata for writing the third post of the guest post series. It was my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading! If you want to read more of Namrata's work, stop by her blog. You can also have a look at her published works here. My personal favorite is "Metro Diaries: Seventeen Love Classics" :D

Five Younger Gods

Welcome to Day 2 of the guest posts series!

Today’s guest writer is once known as ‘The Fool’. He believes life has become too hectic and mechanical. Finding idle time is like an oasis in the journey through the desert of day-to-day life. He reads and writes (speaks his mind without fear or favour) during his free time at “Lucifer House Inc.” He churns out fiction, poetry, satire and other literary art works. He believes any true work of art is priceless and appreciates a kind word of appreciation acknowledging his work.

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome Cart Hick TF of Lucifer House Inc. to pen down his thoughts. The stage is all yours!

This was a long time ago. A very long time ago! There were people then and people now. But all that people then did was going to office. Every day they got up in the morning, brushed their teeth, finished their morning ablutions, had breakfast and went to office. From morning to evening, they slogged and came back home, tired. Waiting for them at home, was this small box, made especially for idiots. It held them glued till they feel asleep. Next morning they got up, again brushed their teeth, finished their morning ablutions, had breakfast and went to office. So their life went on and on, never ending in its drudgery.

Some of the people tired of their wretched lives escaped from the concrete jungles into the mazes of imagination and prayed. They did severe penance for years and years till finally the Great God Intahnato appeared before them. They told Him their tale of woe and sought salvation. He thought for a while and then said, “Let there be blogs.” And then there were blogs. Over the next five days, the God worked without rest – creating blogs of every genre – tech blogs, fashion blogs, satire blogs, travel blogs, literary blogs. On the seventh day, tired after his toil, He sat down to rest. As He rested He broke out into a song.

This little piggy went to market,
This little piggy stayed home,
This little piggy had roast beef,
This little piggy had none,
And this little piggy cried wee wee wee all the way home.

Out of the song emerged the five younger Gods – the Gods of the blog-o-sphere. As the time passed, grand temples were erected for the Gods, filled with high priests, medium priests and low priests. Devotees flocked to the temples to receive the blessings of their favorite deity. Huge tomes were written enshrining the teachings of the Prophets of the Gods.

The followers of the first God were the most energetic. You would find them everywhere – in the markets and the streets, in the inns and the town halls. They climbed on to the roofs and shouted till their throats went hoarse, “Come one. Come all. Come read my blog post. Come! Come! Come! All you need to do is click this link to find out how lovely are my words. Come discover all the wonders of the world. Learn about Samsung, Mountain Dew and Dove. Here there be shampoos and jewels, cosmetic and drinks. Here there be medicines and foods – real and unreal. “

The second God was the most demanding one. He told his followers – “Thou shall stick thy posteriors to thy seats and write. Not for you the contests and prizes. Not for you the fancy trips and sponsored revelry. Thy only friends are thy words.” True to the word of their Lord, they just wrote, dedicating their lives to the service of the words they loved. Their words, dug out from the deepest of dictionaries and thesauruses, polished through edits and reedits, shone with the brilliant dazzling light that blinded their readers. Such was the grandeur of these palaces of words that those of feeble heart even feared to walk in their shadows.

The third God was the most merciful. He showered bounties on his followers. They were bestowed with Midas touch that turned the humblest of words to pure unadulterated gold. People flocked to their blogs by droves and they were soon becoming demi God themselves with their own priest hoods. People treasured and shared, quoted and retweeted their every word. Laurels awaited them around every corner. That was the benediction of the roast beef.

The fourth brother, unable to compete with his elder brothers in terms of quality decided to make it up through quantity. He gathered all manner of followers to himself, promising all that his brothers offered and more. Everyone was welcome to his temple irrespective of caste, creed, color or gender. Like all the younger siblings of more illustrious elder siblings, this God lived in constant despair that often caught up with his followers as well. The devotee bloggers tried their best to promote their posts but could not quite manage the missionary zeal. They tried to work their spell with words but the magic was missing. They strived hard to turn their words to gold, but achieved as much success as the alchemists of the old.

The fifth brother was the crippled God – bitter and disgruntled in the knowledge that he would never match the three illustrious elder brothers. His children rose from the depths of his temple – dark and hungry – mocking and scoffing at the children of the ‘Greater’ Gods. “You cheap spammers and mercenaries – you are the filth of the blog-o-sphere,” they said to the children of the ‘One who Went to the Market’. “You prudes- your high and mighty ways will lead to your downfall. Your ivory towers shall be razed down and you shall be brought shattering to the ground,” they said to the Children of the ‘One who stayed at Home.’ “You cheats, you frauds, you pretenders! Wait till Lady Luck turns her face the other way, you soldiers of fortune. Then your Midas touch shall bring you the same fate as Midas of old,” they said to the Children of the ‘One who had Roast Beef’. “You losers, leave your losing ways behind and come join us,” was all they had to say to the Children of the ‘One who had None’. “Wee, wee, wee,” wailed the God spreading sorrow amongst his followers. Into the world they went wailing ‘Wee, wee, wee,” spreading the sorrow and growing their tribe by the day.

And that my dear friends, is not the end of the story, but the beginning. The final battle is still coming. Choose your side wisely.

Thank you so much Cart Hick TF for writing the second post of the guest post series. It was my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading! If you want to read more of Cart Hick TF's work, stop by his blog. You can also read his story "Bellary" published in the book "Sirens Spell Danger."

Here is a contest for the readers, all you need to do is to guess the next guest writer. The person with the maximum number of correct guesses will win a FlipKart Voucher. Clue is "She is a published author and writes in a secret place!" See you tomorrow! Stay Tuned!

I Say Of RED Without Saying RED At All

Few Miles turned five on October 20, 2014. It was indeed a special day in my life and I wanted to celebrate it in a grand way. Even I had so many plans in my mind, but the situation I was in, demanded me to postpone the plans. As time passed by, I thought of dropping the plan, but they very thought of it hurt me. That was when one of my close friends, pinged me on messenger, and spoke to me about guest posts. “Guest posts” it made me think, so I invited a few of my blogging friends to write guest posts on the theme “Five”, and they graciously accepted my invite. Starting today, there will be a series of guest posts, from the Kings and Queens of blog-o-sphere.

Today’s guest writer believes friendship is the best relationship in this world. Her simplicity in thoughts, words and behavior, makes her my sweetest “Little One”. She has a great passion for writing poetry, and I am sure that she has inherited this talent from her Grandmother. She feels writing is the best way of expressing emotions powerfully. She writes a blog named “My Friendship”, where she pours down her thoughts and feelings, especially about nature, love, relationships and friendship. Besides writing, she loves doing photography and cooking.

Okay, without further ado, let me welcome Simran Kaur of My Friendship to pen down her thoughts. The stage is all yours!

There are a few things you feel yourself associated with. It can be any person or a name or may be a line that sticks to don't leave your brain. You count 'that thing' every time in whatever you do and try best to link it as a reason. Since the time I discovered that my lucky number is 7, I started noticing if all good happens with this number or not. To my surprise, it proved to be a good luck to me. I feel extremely confident when I find this number with me.

There is a color that she has seen in her thick and thin days of life. The first time she noticed it on her mother's forehead ; a bindi. Many a times she would try to touch it take off from her forehead to play. As she started walking on her own, every morning when her mother adorn herself with bindi, a pinch of sindoor and bangles; she used to sit by her side and stare at her resplendent beauty. When she turned fifteen, for the first time she didn't see but felt this beautiful color. The color of love. She was ecstatic to see her lipstick mark on his cheek when they had kissed for the first time. She glowed and blushed even more seeing herself in the mirror. It was the biggest and most special event of her life - their marriage. She was fortunate that even the rituals adhere to this color and she felt the most happiest person on this planet wearing her bridal dress. On that day, she saw a beautiful reflection of her mother in herself. She loved adorning herself over and over again. For now, she had own a right and a strong reason to use it.

Life is uncertain and so its instances; unpredictable!

She silently shed tears of blood on a wintry night when he lashed her hard in the name of making love. For the first time she found this color so unwanted and rancor. She wonder as she finds the same color in various moods and meanings. The color of his rage and Santa's dress is the same. Then, why do one shatter all her dreams and the latter fills her with hope and happiness when she look at it? Like he feat with the elves who make the toys in the workshop she wish him to come on his sleigh from all the way with his flying reindeer to bestow her the lost spring of her life and the positive mood of the color that his coat and trousers bring to her.

Thank you so much Little One for writing the first post of the guest post series. It was my pleasure to have you here. And to my dear readers, thank you so much for reading! Okay here is a contest for the readers, all you need to do is to guess the next guest writer. The person with the maximum number of correct guesses will win a FlipKart Voucher. Clue is "He is a published author and writes beautifully in his Inc!" See you tomorrow! Stay Tuned!

साधना

जब चिथड़ो मे लिपटे कलाकार ,

मोटी मोटी रोटियों निगलते हैं,

तब एक प्रश्न चिन्ह उभर आता है ,

इन ईंट सी रोटियों मे क्या इतनी ऊर्जा है ?

निरंतर अगड़ित ईटों को ढोते हुए वे कलांत नहीं होते ,

हम मेवे खाने वाले  मे इतने  अच्छम है की एक ईंट भी उठा लें ,

तब एक आकाशवाणी मन मे होती है ,

तुम तन के केंद्रित्करण हो ,

वे मन के केंद्रित्करण हैं ,

तुम भुक्त भोगी  हो ,

वो मुक्त भोगी हैं ,

तुम जीवन की  सम्पूर्ण शक्ति को तन मे समोते हो ,

वे जीवन की सम्पूर्ण शक्ति को मन मे समोते  हैं ,

तुम जीवन के समस्त माध्र्य को रो कर पीते हो ,

वे जीवन की समस्त कड़वाहट को प्रेम से पीते हैं ,

तुम साधन हो वो केवल साधक हैं I

-स्वर्ण कौर

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From the pages!

So if you're standing at Gate-A, you move straight and take the second right and then the first left. You move to the last building, take the lift to the 10th floor. Get down, traverse half the round about, move right and the last door that you see is where I live. Alone. That said, it shouldn't be assumed that I'm a loner. I hate being perceived as someone I'm not.

Talking about the present, it's a Sunday and to give you the precision specifics, I'm at one of those moments when one feels like lazing around like a log. Probably thinking something about someone who must be somewhere doing likewise? I have no idea, we haven't really been in touch after our graduation.

Well, to be honest, it's only because of my diary (that I once used to write!) that I'm reminiscing about my room mate. The diary which lies on the bed in isolation as I lay relaxed on the bean bag and look out into the sky. It's gonna rain soon, by the way!

Anyways, if you knew Rohan, you would always want to be around him. Not me, he more often than not, brought sheer embarrassment to me. My batch mates used to find him funny, I felt otherwise. It is easy to like a person when you can make fun of them. I know the behind-the-scenes, I shared a goddamn room with him.

Whoever proposes a girl who doesn't even know who the guy is. And that too with two movie tickets in hand for a already-thought-of-first-date. Rohan wasn't even handsome and rich for the dumb girls to fall for him. Very average and stupid most of the times. He used to wear that Green t-shirt and pink shorts in hostel and memorize lines from movies and serials that he'll speak at the dinner table and make everyone laugh. Ass!

Once he asked me to accompany him to the Spanish classes he had joined. I did, thinking that I'll taste some Spanish. After the hour long boring class, Rohan introduced me to someone he had met since he had started attending the classes. I realized that these guys were going out everyday. I kind of felt happy and while I was walking back to hostel, I had a different sense of amusement. A week later when this guy Rohan was crying inside the room and refused to tell me the reason I realized that he had broken up with her. Why? She was dating someone else. I felt bad then but soon I realized that Rohan still went every evening with that girl so that she could buy something for her boyfriend's birthday. I was furious and so pissed off that I would have nearly slapped Rohan when he was telling me stories of how he is in awe of her when she was shopping with him for her new boyfriend.

He would break window panes in hostel, accidentally pour water on my lab files, bath two times a day, ask you to go out of the room because he wants to change!?! In our room he would use my stuff for all he cared. Wash clothes and spread them all over the room, wanted lights off by 11 pm until a day when I aggressively told him, "Enough". He feared raised voices for a reason I can't tell you just because it was personal to him and I ain't that mean!

During exams, he would constantly chatter and not let anyone study. Called me his 'mentor', liked pictures of nearly everyone on Facebook, sent stupid game requests, and while everyone asked for seasons of those hit English series (like F.R.I.E.N.D.S), he roamed about asking for cartoons!

He had this fascination of having a tattoo made on his neck and on his arm. He chose an occasion for doing so, our Farewell, wow! He had those ear rings (!?!) which contain magnet clamped on to his ears. He was hugging everyone and clicking photos as I watched from a distance. I looked at him and started walking back to our room. As I unlocked our room and started to pack my bags, I found a letter that he had written for me.

I'll be honest, that was an emotional letter though the signature at the end of the letter put me off.

Your mentee
Rohan

Whoever writes that!
I was to leave next morning but I after the letter I learned that I won't be able to face him again. I was getting emotional. I took out a sticky note and wrote "Take care Rohan", stuck it on his almirah and left.

That perhaps was the last of the communication I had with him.
I hated him at times, was irritated most of the times, he embarrassed me by putting me in awkward situations, but I kind of still feel for him more than anyone from college.

I know he's a genuine guy because he found out my new mail id from somewhere and mailed me a couple of times. I never bothered to reply. I felt small.

Anyways, that doesn't take anything away from the fact that he was stupid and involved me in his stupidity somewhere.

Stupid days and silly memories. The heavens are raining already. Cheers Rohan wherever you are.

Like the story? Thank you for the fantastic story, Animesh. Visit his blog Penning Down The Mind now for his updates. You are welcome to Like & Share on Facebook, Plus & Share on Google or Retweet on Twitter.. Do not forget to leave your footprints! Thanks in advance!

A guest post by @animeshganguly A friendly treat from his pages: http://t.co/6NqPRZiIMv Follow the link for a fantastic post #GuestPost

— Someone is Special (@FewMiles) September 15, 2013

हम गिद्ध कब से हो गए

हम पत्थर ही पूजेंगे

हम पत्थर ही पूजेंगे

उसे देवी बताएँगे 

मंदिरों सजाएंगे

साड़ी गहने चढ़ाएंगे 

और जो हांड मांस की 

साक्षात देवी 

मातृत्व का बहनत्व का 

वरदान देती 

जो जग की जननी 

उसे पूजना तो दूर 

दहेज़ लोभी बन जलाएंगे

पुरषत्व का ढोल पीटेंगे

हाथ उठाएंगे

व्यभिचारी दरिन्दे बन 

उसे नोचेंगे काट खाएंगे

हाँ पर हम उसे 

पत्थरों में जरुर पूजेंगे

उसे देवी बताएंगे

हम गिद्ध कब से हो गए 

अधरों पे मुस्कान हुई 

हम मुस्कानों को नोचेंगे 

दिल पाले अरमां जब भी 

हम अरमानो को रौंदेंगे 

पर उड़ना चाहे जो भी 

उड़ान नहीं होने देंगे 

गिद्ध दृष्टि आबरू पे 

हम गिद्ध कब से हो गए 

जिसका खेल हैं गुड्डा गुड्डीया 

उसको भी नर नोच रहा 

हवस का साया कच्चे मन पे 

न रत्ती भर सोच रहा 

इस पर भी इंसा मैं कहता 

मुझको जी संकोच रहा 

बचपन पंजो में 

हम गिद्ध कब से हो गए 

नयी चिड़िया थी 

उड़ने का अंदाज नया था 

अब की कोयल होना था 

उसका साज नया था 

काले बादलो ने घेरा 

बिजलियाँ बरसाई 

दुनिया देखती रही 

हम गिद्ध कब से हो गए 

तमाशा दुसरों का 

हम देखते हैं रहते 

कोई फब्तियां कसे 

हम देखते हैं रहते 

छेड़खानी करे 

हम देखते हैं रहते 

बेबसी की मूरत नहीं 

एक हिस्सा हम भी गिद्ध हैं 

तमाशा कब तुम्हारा हो जाए 

आग घर लग जाए 

दिन ढलने  में 

दुश्वार हो जाए 

कल की सोचो 

आवाज उठाओ रोको 

अपनी ख़ामोशी 

उसकी जुर्रत न बनो 

तमाशबीन हम गिद्ध से बदत्तर 

आवाज उठाओ रोको 

कल की सोचो 

गिद्ध न बनो 

देवी को खड्ग संभालना ही होगा 

जिसकी आबरू पे 

साडी मखमली चढ़े 

उसकी कराह दुनिया 

सुन भी ले 

चर्चा करे सब कैमरे

कैंडल जले 

जिसको निवाला एक नहीं 

उन पे भी

गिद्धों की दृष्टि नेक नहीं 

न वर्दी सुने 

न कुर्सी सुने 

न सुनता 

कभी हैं कैमरा  

मैं ये नहीं कहता 

जो दिल्ली मुंबई में हुआ 

वो अत्याचार नहीं 

बलात्कार नहीं 

मैं ये पूछता हूँ 

जो गांवों कस्बो घटा 

क्या उनसे हमारा 

कोई सरोकार नहीं 

मखमली साडी को भी 

जब न्याय मुश्किल हुआ 

अब खुद सोचिए

जो चिथड़ो ढकी 

उसका होता हैं क्या 

दरिंदा मामूली रहा 

तो कोई बात भी करो 

गर दरिंदा अमीरी में पला हो 

वर्दी बिकी कुर्सी बिकी 

न्याय सारा बिक गया 

कानून तो वैसे भी अँधा रहा 

वर्दी ने उसे वैश्या बता दिया 

इस पे भी कोई 

फुल्लन हो जाए 

तो हाय तोबा 

बंदूक उठाए 

तो हाय तोबा 

सूती और मखमली में 

भेद न करो 

आबरू सबकी हैं 

फरेब न करो 

आबादी में इंसानियत

कब की गई हैं गुम

गिनतियाँ सब गिनने लगो 

तो शर्म से मर जाओ तुम 

जब चीत्कारों से 

शहर गूंजे गूंजे बस्तियां 

गूंजे गाँव घर 

इस पर भी 

खुद को आदमी कहते मगर 

जब इन्साफ का तराजू 

कुछ तोलेगा नहीं 

समाज मेरा मूक 

कुछ बोलेगा नहीं 

फिर तो देवी को खड्ग

संभालना ही होगा 

महिषासुर मारना ही होगा 

: शशिप्रकाश सैनी 

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Let's welcome our guest writer Shashiprakash Saini :) He has gifted a thoughtful #poem on #Rape! Follow the link: http://t.co/kY49DEbu48

— Someone is Special (@FewMiles) September 11, 2013

An Unknown Relation Became A Special Relation

Beep... Beep... Beep...!

The alarm clock buzzing struck at 6:30 am. Lying in my bed in somnolent I opened one of my eyes, poked on the alarm clock and drown back to sleep again.

After a minute or so …

''Suhani, Are you still in bed? Get up sweetheart, you’re getting late! It’s already 6:35 am and by 7:00 am you've to reach to the bus stop. (Said my mother patting continuously on my back.)
I hate to go school Mum. Why they’re timed this early? Let me sleep please!

Don’t talk crazy, today it’s your English test and I don’t want to listen any complain from Miss Radhika. You've to score more than Sanjana. You’ll, Am sure. (said Mum to make me realize the stiffness of competition)
I am preparing your breakfast. Come down fast I’m waiting there on the table.

I came out of my room while muttering something to myself and rubbing my hands carelessly in tangled hairs. Every day I stand midst mesmerize to see my grandmother. She is too old. Have wrinkles from everywhere to everywhere, her tied locks of grey hairs,eyes closed and lips engage in enchanting prayer, sitting in a straight posture.The contentment and peace on her face a serenity calms me down and that’s how my day begins.

I touched grandma’s feet and greeted her, Satsriakal Bebbe (''bebbe'' in Punjabi we use to give respect to elderly lady)
She blessed me and kissed on my forehead
I walked on wheels and within 15 minutes I was ready for the school.
Bye Bebbe, please do pray for me. Love you!
Hi Sanjana, are you prepared well for the test?
Yes, but I am afraid how would be the questions. Are you?
Yes, I am ready too but not as nervous as you’re

Bebbe says, ''There is a possibility of everything but only when you tend to make it so with true efforts . ''Your efforts determines the part you deserve.''

Hey sweetheart, welcome home! How was your day? Hope you did well in test.
Yes Mum, I did my best and I am not worried how would be the result, Bebbe told me ''Try the best you can without caring of what would be the result because being true to yourself shall never let you stop or loose Hope. You know the efforts you made were true and will never go in vain''

I hoped Mum would agree to what grandma said but she said nothing!
I've made your favorite ‘Rajama Chawal’
Mumma you’re the best ( I said while hugging Mum tightly )
Oops! I forgot to inform you baby, you friend Shreya has invited you on her birthday party today.
Birthday party! Wow!!(I said with enthusiasm)
But have dance classes today and have got much home work to complete (I said in a dismay)
Don’t worry today you’re allowed to skip your dance class and I’ll help you in completing your home work when you’re back.
OK Mum! (Said I with excitement)
Here’s your pink frock, see I've got pink color hair band, clips and white belly. Mumma knows well I love fancy. I dressed up like a princess.

Bebbe, Main kive lag ri haan? (How’s I am looking?)
Bohot soni lag ri ve , nazar na lage mera sona puttar! Jaldi aa jaien (you’re looking so beautiful, God bless you!And come back in time)
Haan ji Bebbe (OK Grandma)

We all have a busy life or in better words personal lives that confine all of us within our known boundary, no matter who you are, your fringe is limited at the edge only. I am close to only two members in my family. One is my dear Papa, who usually has trips to different countries because of his profession and so as to earn bread and butter to fulfill all our desires. Whenever he come home without wasting my single minute…

Papa, what you've brought for me??
Pencils, colors, chocolates, dolls?
I've got all of them for you puttar ji.

He finds his happiness within mine. Papa is close to my heart not just because he fulfill all my wants but because he is the only one with whom I can share my problems and can get ultimate best solutions.

The second person close to my heart is Grandma. Though I don’t talk to her much or express my love but there is a special place for her in my heart. Where everyone is busy in the world of their own to sort out their problems, I see my grandma in the rarest of rare sitting at a place preaching God in silence.

We don’t tell her about the problems going on so as to not to make her worry yet she perceives the matters clearly. She has great intellect and instinct.

The fast and modern life of today where everyone do race to chase for their crave for materialistic things and a blind race to prove individual's supreme distresses her where little things have become even littler. Those little things actually belong to peace of mind, satisfaction, kindness and spirituality.

She would ask me to sit beside her and on Sundays we together sing Bhajans (Holy songs)

''रोम रोम में तुम्ही हो हरजी
रोम रोम तुम्हारा है
मैं तो बस एक बुत हूँ हरजी
स्पंदन तुम्हारा है
सभी जीवों के तुम्ही हो सृष्टा
तुम्ही से जीवनधारा है
निर्मल को तुम्ही बल देते
तू सबका पालनहार है’’

I observe each of her activities and words closely. She has a nature to react and correct immediately if one is doing wrong. Every now and then she tells what should be done and how should be done but never impose her decisions on us.

''My whole life had been full of sacrifices and I am satisfied that I followed my heart and instincts.''(said she while sharing her life experiences with the guests who come to our home)

''Follow your instincts. That's where true wisdom manifests itself''

It wasn't she wanted to sing of those moments she is proud of but she believed this would help people of today’s generation to lead their entire life in a better way with comprehension,cognizance and holiness.

They all listen to her, agree, some ponder over but never implement.

Whenever Grandma speaks of her life experiences I sit in a corner and listen her. Though I’m too little to understand her thoughts exactly yet I listen her with keen interest and try best to understand the meanings. I found them inspiring and thoughtful, realized when I was growing up! I got occupied with my higher studies. Already there used to be less of my and Grandma's conversation but now it had totally ceased.

Grandma’s health was degrading day by day, her speech unclear; she did not speak or eat anything. I was called!
One day when I came into her room to give her tablets, she ignored to have them. I was worried and asked her,
''Ki gal hai Bebbe, please tussi jidd na karo hunn’’ (What happened Grandma? please don't behave obstinate)
Nai puttar hun mein puri hon ja ri haan (No, my child I am going to die). She realized her end was near.
Meri ek gal yaad rakkhin (Remember my words)

She held me close and said
''The satisfaction of mind cannot be ample by the money but it can be procured with the light of knowledge in heart and mind.''

I found she wasn't able to open her eyes,unconscious and told her vision was getting blurred.
I shouted my family members for the help but by then we found she wasn't anymore. There was still the same contentment on her face. I cried within my heart as wanted to spend more time with Grandma but soon her words made me strong

When we get so much of love, we are at the top of the world and get madly blind within its sweetness! But when we realize that there is no one to love, we mourn over it!’’
''It's only our hunger or eagerness to grab the happiness, the main reason behind our pain and cries... This truth is totally unknown! The one who sows this excitement within is prone to it's loss.This is all the reality.''

There was an unknown relation between her giving and my receiving. Those strong soulful words said by Grandma associated an unknown relation of wisdom and self realization that became so special unbreakable till the eternity.

Written by Simran of My Friendship, stop by her for meaningful poems

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An Unknown Relation Became A Special Relation - A thoughtful guest post by @KaurSimran7 Read the post here: http://t.co/2tTZ0FINEo @FewMiles

— Someone is Special (@FewMiles) August 25, 2013

Blessings from Grandma :)

----- भजन ----
रोम रोम में तुम्ही हो हरजी
रोम रोम तुम्हारा है
मैं तो बस एक बुत हूँ हरजी
स्पंदन तुम्हारा है
सभी जीवों के तुम्ही हो सृष्टा
तुम्ही से जीवनधारा है
निर्मल को तुम्ही बल देते
तू सबका पालनहार है
ये जग है क्रीड़ा स्थल
तू खेल खिलावन्हारा
हारे जब भी हम जीवन से
दिया तुम्ही ने सहारा है
रोम रोम में तुम्ही हो हरजी
रोम रोम तुम्हारा है

---- सवर्ण कौर

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