mysterious smile

A smile is always more mysterious than silence.

A selfie - too costly

In the world where "self-obsession" is the coolest penchant, selfie has been promoted from just being 'an image of one taken by oneself' to 'an image which defines one's life'.

Selfie is a great way of expressing 'self-love' until it takes your life or job. Yes! you read it right. The noisome trend became too costly that it charged a life and a job.

In an attempt of getting a perfectly mindless selfie in front of a running train in Mathura, three college-goers lost their lives. In August 2014, a 21 year old accidentally shot himself in the head while posing for a selfie with a loaded gun in Mexico City. In the same month, a woman went into coma after being bitten by cobra as she posed for a selfie with the snake.

Selfies recently became pricely not only for the clickers but also for some unfortunates. In May 2014, a pilot crashed while taking selfies in the cockpit. In April 2014, a women died in a head-on collision on a US highway seconds after she posted selfies on Facebook.

Apart from the above mentioned futile selfie attempts, recently, a Russian paramedic who took selfies in front of dying emergency patients was fired.

The addiction have gone crazy and viral. Creepy acts of clicking selfie with loved ones' dead body or just clicking to update one's toilet or honeymoon schedule is insane.

One of my friend, lately was struck in traffic caused by a driver clicking selfies to post on the Facebook.

One may laugh at the stupidity but its something serious. A selfie has turned into a disease. Being too obsessed is not a healthy attitude and one must know where to set the limit.





( reference: ht city, new delhi, march 17, 2015, pg 1)

Conspicuous consumption

Shopping spree
gluttony for brands trickling
seeping down the blood stream
augmenting the conspicuous devouring



Designer logo, signature good
just to hoodwink the Halo Effect.
Yearning for the conform look
to 'fit in' the nifty sect

Squandering on gratuitous consumption
or emulating the fad
lacking gumption
differing tad





Fearing to be stereotyped
conscious in choosing the 'packaging'.
in battling "self-concept" and "abidance"
losing their individuality.




by vartika puri

Reflect

Take a break! Pause. Reflect. Consider. Because, else one day you will realize while aiming the moon you even lost the stars.

- by vartika puri

Change

Change is the rule of life, its an evolutionary fuel; society, people, thoughts, beliefs change with time;
all are transient. But, always remember, change only for good.

Being you

If you ever wanna be someone, then be the u in you.
- vartika puri

All that i want to say: UNBORN

All that i want to say: UNBORN: smiling among us she would have been only if she would have seen the beautiul world which is still considered as a male whorl doctor...

All that i want to say: Connoisseur will adore

All that i want to say: Connoisseur will adore: Astounding life it was i wonder what was my lapse’s cause its my tale of coming to grief from the glory of disbelief asking you a qu...

why is world not a good place?

The problem with the world is not that evil people do evil, but is that good people fear to do the good. If heinous man does the job so dexterously then why can't aristocrats?

LIFE- a tale told by an idiot

"Life is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying nothing," the famous lines from Macbeth by Shakespeare are key when it comes to understanding of life. All the intellectuals preach in accordance with the kind of wisdoms that they are blessed with. For some life is nothing but an ephemeral, enactment on the edifice called stage. Whereas, for some it is an equivalent to river, whose essential nature is to flow. Some ascribed to the notion that it is an illusion, a trap laid down by Almighty to hoodwink the masses. The quandaries persist with all variants when another fact or value - judgement about human life and its precariousness comes to mind by Shakespeare, who in King Lear  declared : "As flies to wanton boys, are we to God; they kill us for their sport".

As if the life has no meaning; "It's a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more." The sound which was once pounding, loses its intensity after the snuffing of the brief, flickering candle - called life. And then it seems to be a story, not so interesting, not so accrediting, as if a tale told by an idiot, who is paid no heed. 

UNPRECEDENTED TRANSPIRING

It was wintery morning. Sharp at 5am, i don't know what made me stir so badly that i came out of my abode and beheld the most irksome episode in general drama of narrative called life. There was nothing except fog all around. It was so dense that it harbored the fading moon and stars so adroitly like a consummate magician. It seemed to me as if it was preconceived script unweld by the almighty in his jest. Out of the blues, i heard a shriek which made one freeze in zero weather. I was never expecting anything like that because not a living soul was around. Abruptly i turned to observe about that unprecedented transpiring and was astonishingly taken aback. I couldn't believe what i saw- a flickering light originating from the abandoned notorious mansion, known for being the abode of evil spirits. I never trusted on such myths. That's something not to be summoned upon by a phd in physics. But, i was meek at that moment. Weakened by the chills. No theory for existence of that light in that relinquished house could be hypothesized by me. I started walking towards the dwelling, as if the voice was calling me, the unpleasant breeze attracting me. Unable to control my footsteps, i was standing in front of the main gate of that capacious palace. Th screams were gone, but the terrible feeling of existence of a ghost persisted. The horrified emotion held me. It was better to leave the place before it was too late. As i started to move ahead with my plan, someone held my arm, i turned, but to my surprise there was no one, not even a proof of existence of any life. It deemed that all the earlier proceedings were a lie.

Escaping the venue, i rushed to my home. Panting not less than a dog, astonished like never before. After an hour of struggle to come back to my senses , i noted peculiar finger prints on my arm. I was petrified, shaken from the first hair strand on my head till the tip of my toe nail. Science didn't support this. But i had no proof against it. This feeling made me want to tear my meritorious certificates, "Why can't i find the reason, What's the use then, if the mystery remains the mystery?"
I continued to stay in the dilemma of science and spirits, continued to live in fear and iniquity for weeks.
The memories faded with years, but till date the old terror holds me whenever i am alone, out in the cold-dark moon.

The last diary

"Hey Raj, look! what i found, appa's diary"; "Why you so curious to read it, it's not a good etiquette."
"I just wish to know what happened on 19th July 2001 - the day everything changed for all of us.";
"Surely, you can read then. I am not going to stop you, as i know, it is then going to be a failed try."
"I found the page, here it is. Nurse told me that appa wrote the diary that day as well, the last page of his life."
"I only know that that day he was going to visit daadi maa, who lived in Ludhiana, by bus. Raj. He was much thrilled to travel by the bus for the first time. I don't know what happened wrong."

"You want to listen? I am going to read."

" As the bus started to move, it gave me immense relief, though it stopped on the terminal for a couple of minutes, yet it was densely populated. The incommodious was increased by the conductor who was sporadically moving here and there for the tickets.  To add insult to the injury, it was the bus of Roadways. It was already an obnoxious day and my spirits were in full mood to yield before the providence. When the bus was back on highway, everyone became agile, if not physically then mentally. Within a few hours, as we hoped that we all will see, the most precious sight of our destination."

"Raj! What is this? I can't find a clue about the incident. His last words appear to be written by a trembling hand. Where are the other pages? What happened? How did it happened.  Absolute emptiness. No detail at all." said Alisha wistfully. 
"Sweety! Newspaper said the bus driver couldn't handle the steering when truck came from wrong side and then the bus crashed and most died and the mere survivors like your dad died at the hospital."

"You need to cope up Alisha. He is gone. Stop thinking now. It's been years."
"Trying Raj. Trying."