A wooden log or an iron rod?

When the cold winds of boredom blow, people often seek warmth in the fire of entertainment. This fire can be stoked and fuelled in many ways … one of these is to wind up people. Fill people's heads with stories, myths and ideas and instigate them enough to rouse them for a fight. The ensuing fight is then entertainment for those cold bored people. 

Some people will believe in hearsay, they will let gossip affect them and they will initiate a fight or an argument, without realising that they are harming themselves in the process. They are wooden logs that others use to fuel the fire of their own entertainment. 

Some people will keep a calm, steady head and won't jump to conclusions or actions when gossip is brought to them. They use their own brains to assess a situation rather than accept it in the way it is presented to them. They are iron rods that refuse to be used as fuel for the fire of other's entertainment. 

So, what are you? A wooden log or an iron rod? 

~ Sheetal Soni

The Axe and The Rose - 1

“Well, how is this?” she asked him and flaunted the painting again in front of him as they were walking back from the school. Though today she walked with a slight limp. She had tripped and hurt her ankle.

He looked at it cursorily and smiled. He knew that she painted for him, of him. He also knew exactly what irritated her. He knew her too well. “Oh it is just like anything regular. Nothing special.”

She stopped walking. Her headache, her sprained ankle and now his words. She ripped the painting and with tears in her eyes said “You don't deserve to be painted for. You don't deserve my friendship. I don't want to see you again.” And before he could say anything she started crossing the little wooden bridge that was over the little stream that ran between their houses. She reached home, fell on the bed and cried. A storm was brewing. And so was a fever inside her. For three days she was almost bedridden. By the fifth day her old spirit had returned. She wondered as to why he hadn't come to check on her because he used to do so before. She had a bath, put on her prettiest frock and went to her garden. She plucked out a lovely red rose and crossed over the bridge to walk to his home. She knocked at his door though the door was open. He was busy doing his project. She went inside and offered him the rose. He ignored her and carried on with his project. She sensed that he was angry. So she put the rose on his table and sat on a chair beside him. “I'm sorry I misbehaved. I wasn't well.”

He still didn't look up. She was fighting back her tears because she knew he hated that. “I know you are angry but please try and understand.” And then she sat in silence while he carried on with his project. After an hour she got up to leave. “I'll be back tomorrow. I have to go and get lessons from Mary as I was unable to go to school.” He didn't look up. She left with a heavy heart. That evening she kept herself busy copying the lessons. The school was closed for two weeks for term holidays. She was glad as she could catch up with the missed lessons.

Next day she did the same. Had a bath, had her breakfast, went to the garden and plucked out a rose, crossed over the little bridge and went to see him. He had obviously made much progress on his project. “That is so good! Your work is so neat!” She said as she offered him the rose. He didn't look up. She left the rose on the table and as was her habit, she told him about everything that went on in the day. Not once did he acknowledge her presence. She sat for an hour and then left. This went on for a week. Till one day …

She had a bath, had her breakfast, went to the garden, plucked a rose and was walking on the bridge when she froze … He was chopping off with an axe the part of the bridge at his end. When he ensured that it was now no longer possible for anyone to leap that long enough, he stopped hacking and went home with his axe.

She walked back slowly towards her home. She then went in the garden shed, got her father's axe out and chopped off the rose bush. She then got a bottle of acid and poured on the stump of the chopped rose bush. All this without tears in her eyes.

For she knew, she will now no longer be able to give roses to anyone nor will she be able to be friends with anyone … else.

Nobody

Wish I was the sunlight

Gently kissing your face

Full of fresh morning grace.

Wish I was the breeze

Touching you, hugging you,

Brushing past you.

Wish I was the water

Running over your body,

Quenching your thirst.

Wish I was the night

To whom you would surrender

Your weariness, your worries.

Wish I was the thought

That dwells on your mind,

That throbs in your heart.

Wish I was the reason

That made you smile

That made you say

“It's a beautiful life!”

But I'm just me.

A nobody.

Waited.

She looked at the straw hut.

Two years. It had been two years when she was sitting under the tree and crying when Sagar came along. He stopped, bent towards her and asked if she was ok. She quickly wiped off her tears. Tears were too personal to be shared with a stranger. He sat beside her and offered her his handkerchief. She just looked away and said “I'm fine”. He sat nevertheless. And that is how it began.

Sagar would meet her everyday under this tree. And then came autumn. The tree shed its leaves … once family, now strangers. So Sagar built a straw hut with her help. They met, they talked, they shared cosy moments. A few months later he started becoming distant and aloof. The daily meetings were reduced to weekly and then fortnightly. She waited. She craved his presence, the intimacy. She asked him if he had “moved on”. He laughed and said he never leaves or moves on. But he never explained his absences to her. She waited. Everyday she would go to the straw hut and wait. She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how much those moments meant to her. But he was always in a hurry. She waited. She sensed that he was under stress. She asked him and he said he will tell about it later as he was in a hurry now. She waited. She wanted to tell him that she had got an offer from a city far away, wanted to ask him if she should leave or stay. He said he'll think and let her know later. She waited. And then one day she went to the straw hut.

She looked at the straw hut. Looked at it for quite a few minutes. She then took out a box of matchsticks, lit many and kept them in the hut. Slowly, a fire started raging and eating the hut. She smiled, turned away and walked towards home. Waiting, no more.

Have you ever ...

Have you ever kept walking ...
Knowing that there is no destination ahead?

Have you ever prayed with all your heart ...
Knowing that your prayers are never going to be answered?

Have you ever kept swimming ...
Knowing that there is no shore ahead?

Have you ever asked questions aloud ...
Knowing that there are no answers?

Have you ever passionately wished for something ...
Knowing that it simply isn't in your destiny?

Have you ever waited for someone ...
Knowing well that the person is never ever going to turn up?

Have you ever lived ...
Without hope?

My Bar Of Chocolate

I never understood why. Why is it that I fell in love with you? Beautiful as it is, it is in stark contrast to the cruelty of destiny. For, as much as I wish to and as much as I want to, I can never ever have you. You remind me of an incident in my childhood. 

Once when I was a little girl, I was walking past a confectionery store and saw this lovely chocolate bar. I wanted to have it. Checked my pocket. Didn't have enough money. Thought of getting it from home and remembered I wasn't allowed chocolate because a visit to the dentist was due. I couldn't have the chocolate, but that didn't mean I didn't want the chocolate. I stared at it till my brother came looking for me and took me home. 

You are that bar of chocolate that I so badly want and know that I can never have. I watch you and adore you from afar, regardless ... Till someone comes and takes me away from you. Takes me home. 

Mind Games

A person likes you and looks for ways to come closer to you ... to become your friend. And once that person is your friend he/she becomes the best one ever ... shares secrets, is there for you in your hour of need, stands up for you and fights for you, lends their shoulder to you for you to cry on, helps you out emotionally or financially. You start trusting that person. But slowly you start losing all your other friends because this person won’t share you with anyone. You become emotionally attached and dependent on that person. And this is when the mind games begin.

Manipulating you by showing you the fault of your other friends, of emotionally blackmailing you and reminding you that “I have always stood by you and worked for your good. If you choose not to believe me or listen to me then we can call this friendship quits” ... You are now isolated. You are scared of losing the only close friend in your life and hence agree to whatever the person says. The person knows how vulnerable you are and plays upon your insecurities very well. Instead of helping you to be independent, the person ensures that he/she becomes your mental crutch. You forget how to think, react or resolve on your own and rely on this mental crutch for all your problems. 

You might wonder why would anyone do something so sinister. Well, human tendency is such that it loves to control things around it – nature, weather, machinery, etc. And what else could be the most powerful form of yielding control than over another person’s mind? It feeds their sense of power and once they know that they have full control over someone’s mind they move on to another person ... leaving the one behind a complete emotional wreck. They actually don’t care about you. They just enjoy the power of controlling your mind and influencing your decisions to their advantage, all under the garb of friendship. Garb of friendship because a true friend never imposes their opinions on you. A true friend will advise you and then respect your decision regardless.

A true friend will never play mind games on you.