Rohit Sharma

Med White knows that he knows nothing. He is not proud of it. It's a revelation that's still a secret to him. He only feels about it and has made no opinion of it. This is the cause of his silence. He keeps a shut mouth no matter what. But, what can stop you to hear? He is thus an okay listener. All you need is a bit of his mind's attention. If he is not feeling anxious about something that may have recently happened to him, he would have a blank mind and he would stare at you while you are talking. It doesn't matter what you say. You may blabber then. He could listen all of it with a patient ear. Unknowingly, he would relieve you from your stress. You may wonder what this guy is and how he does what he does. You may come to mirror him, his outward calmness, his deep breathes, his unchanging and unmoving posture, his strainless face, his unspoken truth, his universalism & naturism. At times, it shines in the dark, his face. You may not know what lies there. He would...

She was grown up in the communism of her small village. It may not have the modern smoke-sending, river-polluting industries but it does have the glory of the kind lap of Mother Nature and its biodiversity. Never traveling out of it, it was all good, her village, the social system there, the people & their lifestyles before she finally encountered a bit of urban luxury. She traveled far and saw a better face of equality, less hindered opportunity, less hindered decision making, more independence; thy culture, traditions & superstitions. Humans have a sharp memory. They set their threshold and build an unknown castle that could mire the realities until unless someone or something breaks it. Humans like to live in illusions like other animals of lesser intellect. Retuning back, her village was not the same as she had left it a few months back. She was used to a different kind of air. She might have tasted a bit of merit-based capitalism, but then she knew that not all people are ...

The old man has just turned 60. He has retired from his okay-paying government job. He was so proud of it. He worked for 30 long years in the same office, same place, every other day, except the usual sunday and the festival holidays. He had just the same routine for thirty years of his life, exactly half of it. He would wake up early, do his usual morning rituals and prepare to invest the next 9-hours with polished boots and ironed clothes. He would do the same work everyday, share the same people as colleagues, stare at the same wall, same ceiling fan and its crackling sound. "Yes sir, ok sir, please sir..." He would never say No! Now sitting in his verandah and tiredly looking outside the caged gates at the passing people, he would remind himself of the gone days and his youth. He would sit and pray. He would involve himself into spirituality. He would wonder about gods and their cosmic energies. He would contemplate and compare. He would look after his ageing body, scarri...

He saw the same place in his dream lately. The place gives him a sense of sacredness. There are tall big trees with large canopies, filled with all kinds of nests of different colored birds, all playing to their tunes, and cooing. There is a thick mist near the bottom and there when he looks, standing at a distance, he finds peace, a deep calm fall through his mind, chilling his heart mildly. It is hypnotising. It pulls him not. It asks for nothing. It gives the peace of life. Its magnanimity is heart touchingly generous. How he remembers the thin silently flowing transparent river at the other side. It shines when the non bullying sun cast its burn over it. As he looks into the riverbed, he finds a deep valley and not a surface... At another time, it was raining with in. There was a slow drizzle, never interrupting the ecosystem, not a bit of chaos, just a plain sound of friction over the river. He knew that he secretly craves for green. His dream gives more than that. Here, living at...

The priest in the temple, the one situated at the lonely hill of the dead village, was less of a priest but more of a seeker. He seeked a purpose to live for, not that he wanted one, but he had to. He didn't know a god to worship. I mean, the god was his last resort when he figured out that he had nothing. For too long, his numb mind continued to remain blur and suggested nothing but a laughing  shallowness. How come, except him, everyone is so happy with what they were doing? How come he hadn't found anything to live for? How come he remained ideology-less and aimless? This made him restless. These thoughts and his self. He had to roam and be a wanderer. He had to fight himself. So many days and nights passed. He did everything that came his way and the one that he brought before. He went many extremes and returned, often changing the roads. He was bored quickly. It couldn't keep him passionate for a life that count in years. It started from nothing, the time when he kind ...

Looking at the same full moon, from the same spot a decade and a bit more years ago, today down the line, in his late twenties, he didn't feel the adrenaline rush of the list of ambitions and no dictates to change the world. He didn't want to reach the shining satellite. He didn't want to be in a spaceship. He didn't want to be an astronaut. H didn't want to fly. He felt numb and desperate. He felt salty, deeply nostalgic and a bit lost. He is more powerless than he was a decade and a bit more years ago. He is tired of running around the circles of the illusion of age and the itchy times. How should he keep on perish and wait for nothing? Aimless is no breath to him. Purposeless means bloodless veins to him. No imagination means blindness to him. He is the joker of his ever non-changing dynamic restless world.. How impossible! Where to? 

राशी पलंग से गिर गयी थी और बिलख बिलख के रो रही थी. उसकी आवाज़ सुनकर अम्मा कमरे में भागी भागी आयी और उसे ज़मीन में औंधे मुँह लेटा पाया. उसकी गहरी किलकारीयों को सुनकर अम्मा घबरा गयी और ज़ोरो से उन्होंने बाबूजी को पुकार लगाई. बाबूजी बस नहा कर के ही बाथरूम से साफ सुथरे निकले थे. वो राम नाम का जाप कर रहे थे. अम्मा की तेज़ बोली सुनके वो भड़भड़ा गए और राम नाम छोड़ कमरे की तरफ भागे.  अम्मा ने राशी को फर्श से उठाकर सीने से चिपका लिया था. राशी की आवाज़ बहुत तेज़ थी जिससे अम्मा और बाबूजी भयभीत हो गए थे. बाबूजी इधर से उधर दौड़ दौड़ कर और गोहार मारकर जाने किस डर से रोने लगे. उनकी आवाज़ किचन की खिड़की से दौड़ती, चीड़ती-फाड़ती घर के दूसरे तरफ पहुंची जहाँ पर शिव जी के अभिषेक की तैयारी की जा रही थी. वही पर सभी लोग जमा थे. उन्हें पता पड़ने पर शिव जी को अकेला छोड़ सभी राशी के पास भागे.  सूरज आधा आसमान लांघ चुका था और चमचमा रहा था. कमरे में उमस और गर्मी थोड़ी बढ़ गयी थी. सबने रोती चिल्लाती राशी को घेर लिया और परेशानी से अधमुहे देखने लगे.  राशी अभी बस चार महीने की हुई थी. वो जब खेलती हसती हैं तो उसके गालों में द...