And in the heaven if I dont meet you...

memories to feel the pain
A thousand memories to feel the pain
A thousand thoughts to love you again..
I am thinking about the one
Who would never understand my feelings
And I have to call this as my love…

I have thousand reasons to smile
And a thousand reasons to cry..
I have to choose either of these
And I have to call it as my life...

How foolish I am to wish to forget you by yearning for you too much...
How foolish of God to make me hate you by making me to loving you too much...
In this life if I don't get you...
I would not mind killing myself to meet you in heaven...
And in the heaven if I don't meet you over there
Then I would not mind killing God to enter the hell to live with you...
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When We Don't When Our Last Good - Bye Is...

Juveria and I always fought with each other for a window seat in our school bus.  In the morning, she had no other choice to claim my window seat because every morning, my mom would come with me and as soon as the bus arrives she would get me inside the bus in the first and then I would walk in a gait to claim my seat.  She would enter the bus then after as normally no one accompanied her to the bus stop.  Keeping a sad face and with an angry look she would come and sit near me, even when there are other window seats unoccupied.  Same like me this devilish girl too wanted the same last window seat of the bus.  I have warned her many times that it belongs only to me but in the evening, many days she would run faster than me and occupy the seat first telling me that the seat belonged to the one who came first.  She was the one and only enemy for me.
In class she was sitting in the first bench, while I was in the last bench and only it favors her.  And during the last five minutes before our last session’s ending, she and I would have packed all our things, waiting for the bell to ring so that we could run fast and catch our window seat.    As she was in first bench, she would run in seconds as soon as the bell ends.  And there are days we had got punishments for leaving the class even before the bell had rung. Perhaps the race never ended between us.  And that day I ran equally to her and we both were to board the bus the same moment.  And I pushed her away.  She fell down breaking her incisor (her upper jaw’s first tooth).  I was very afraid, soon she started crying and I got beated the same instant by the looking-after lady of the bus. I didn’t sit in the window seat that day, I left it for her. 
The next day morning, as I was concerned, she came to the bus stop with her nanny.  Soon a quarrel broke between her nanny and my mom.  We both remained silent though.  I got in the bus and sat in another seat.  She went and sat in the window seat.  Then after, for the whole year I didn’t sit in that window seat either I talked with her.  The next year I changed my school. 

And in my tenth standard, Juveria joined our school.  She was totally changed. Her then pop cut hair was now reached her thighs.  She was the girl with the longest hair in our whole school.  She didn’t talk nor did I.  When I saw her first time, I smiled at her and she smiled at me.  When she smiled I could see only half of her incisor.  Five years had passed since the day I broke her incisor.   I still remembered the way she would change her face into a sad one and give an angry look.  It was so much loveable.  When the boys in my class admired the beauty of the newly joined girl, I told them her cute-looking half incisor was indeed broken by me perhaps, they hardly believed it. 
  The next month, Juveria’s family shifted back to the previous house they lived, i.e nearer to my house.  We had free transportation from our school and that we both once again travelled in a same school bus. However, having grown up our childish innocence was replaced with our teenage shyness that we both didn’t talk with each other but we would just smile at each other. I tried many times to talk with her but I couldn’t.  Every time I saw her, I would smile at her and she would smile at me in return. Like these our days passed.  One day after our exams ended, I hooked up a conversation with her asking how she had given her exams. She talked so sweet.  The next day in the morning, I came earlier to the bus stop to talk with her again.  I said, “Hi,” to her as soon as she came, but her eyes appeared watered.  Her father asked me.
“Haven’t they given your progress report yet? Juveria is telling like such,”   
I told him a lie that they had not given our report cards yet.  I knew she had lied to her father as she got failed.  Perhaps, from then maybe because of that embarrassment, she didn’t try talking to me and even I didn’t find a chance.  We would just see each other and smile and pass on in our ways.    In that year end, her family once again shifted their house in some other place, and I met her only in our school.  And when I saw her I smiled at her and so did she.   One and half year passed like this and she got failed in her eleventh standard.  Then after we rarely met each other but whenever we met we smiled. I wished so many times to talk with her but I was afraid she might not be interested and she would stop offering me that smile even.  And when in my twelfth standard a boy noticed and mocked me, I confessed my love for her towards him.
The next she waited for me in our class in the evening. I was so much pleasured on that day.  She asked me whether I would give my guides and study notes to her.  The next day filling my bag with every study thing I grabbed in the last night, and went to her class in the morning by myself to give her.  She was so happy.  And then we became friends.  We met each other often, went to canteen together and I helped in her studies most of the times.  In the examination followed, she got passed in all the subjects for the first time in her life and for the first time I got failed in Math.  I was angry at her and scolded her, when she came with a chocolate to meet me.  I well remember how she kept a sad face and gave me an angry look and moved away.  That night I regretted for shouting at her, when I knew I was going to be there in my school only for another three months.  I was angry at myself for hating her at that time but loving her in all other times.  One month later, when I saw her, I smiled at her, she ignored me as the way she did for many days since the day I scolded her.
Then from next week, we started to talk with each other again.  It was my last exam and last day of my school.  Feeling too much nostalgic and worried, I wrote her a love letter and I waited to give it to her. I read the letter once again, the poem I wrote appeared too silly.  I trashed it and hoped to tell my love by myself.
She came outside the exam hall.  I went to her and told, “Today is the last day in my school…”
She told me, “I will miss you…”   
I told her that I would come to see her often.  She smiled and then another girl came and shouted at her,
“Juveria, they are going to cut cake for Riyaz, come soon it’s getting late…”
Juveria told, “I got to go now… We will meet soon…”
I wanted to tell her that I would wait for her, but I didn’t.  I wasn’t getting away from the happiness of hearing her say, she missed me.  I hoped I would see her soon.  I smiled at her and she smiled at me.  I must say that my love feel wasn’t intense, at that time as I felt I wasn’t going to miss her.   I started walking.  She called, “Krishna,” I turned, she told me,“bye,”
I thought she was just going to be near my house then how would I miss her.  Indeed, I didn’t know I have missed a good chance to talk with her that day and that was the last chance I would ever get to talk with her.  Then life happened.  After all I wasn’t a hero of a movie to love her all the time.  I have so many other things, so many responsibilities. 
A lot other works to distract myself from thinking about her.  In my exam holidays, I passed near her house’s way very often.  Seeing me she would smile and I would return it.  More than love in my heart, I started to run behind things, which I didn’t know whether I wanted it or not.  Then I thought about her every day.  Thinking about her caused me so much of pain. I went to study my college degree in other city.  Every weekend, I tried to think about her in a way it would not pain, but I couldn’t. So, I stopped thinking about her, but I couldn’t.  Some days, all I wished was to just think about her.  I felt why I should worry missing for her, when I was going to get her someday soon.  I was confident that after I settle in a good job, I could easily marry her.  I knew by the way she smiled at her, even if she didn’t love me, she would at least accept to live with me.  Every weekend I went to my home, too much excited to meet her.  My birthday was in the following.  And I decided to propose her that week.  I wrote a very loveable poem for her in my college.  Soon there were riots in my college, after the ancient monument, the Babar Masjid was broken by Hindus. 
To resolve my parents’ concerns and apprehensions, I went to my home a week later and by that time the issues and riots are  almost dead just like the hundreds of innocent people.  It was a beautiful night for me. Sitting in the train I built colourful worlds, living with her.  I wondered how even I could feel such things and fall in love, since I thought love is merely like in movies, hero wants to marry a girl and when he doesn’t get a chance, he would sing a sad song.   Perhaps, then I knew what was meant to be love someone and yearning to loved by them in return.  I knew why some goodbyes devastate a soul completely.  The next day after reaching my place, I was shocked to see so many huts demolished.  I saw some of tyre tubes still burning leaving the pungent smell across the whole city, asking people what they have got at last.
Then next day, my birthday came.  My saddest birthday of course, for I learned from my neighbours that most of Islams fled the place, including my Juveria.  Without understand the riddle of my life and mystery of my love, I was confused and hurt of what to do next. Does those foolish politicians knew what it means to think about someone, and all that comes in your mind was the last time, you looked on to them, whom you wanted to look on forever but you never knew that was the last time you were looking at them.  We never knew when that some of the hopeful and smiling good bye, we said with a hope to see them again was indeed the last good bye.    
It looks like yesterday but nine years had passed since that happened.  I tried to see her many times, but I didn’t meet a chance, I just wished she loved me. I wished, she loves me still.  I wished she would wait for me.  For all those starting two years before I married another girl, I had been crushed in my life totally, regretting about not utilizing those golden chances to speak with her.  Perhaps, then I convinced myself, if she had loved me, she would have taken some effort to let me, after she smiled, when I smiled at her, that’s it. 
Holding the pain, I decided to love again.   Because if we are strong enough we can love anyone with a wounded heart.... Once we love ...We enter a world where it is impossible to get away alive... We dream ... We cry ... We smile or We remain happy it’s all our choice but we have to live in that world with the person we loved in the form of our memories ... When memories don't die until we die then how could the love responsible for it will die...?? We have to Know this that we can never ever forget our first love, our battle towards it was merely worthless… but we shouldn’t be afraid of it. If we loved truly once, and if we loved dreaming about them in the beginning, then we would surely love remembering those anyway after all those cruel endings too…
Now in this crowded place we both took the bus.  As my daughter’s choice, choice, we had to wait until we get a bus where she could get a window seat and for that I had to wait for one hour, while this adamant princess would be seated well on my shoulders.  No one would believe that a girl of six years was capable of being this much adamant and telling wonderful lies.   After getting in the bus and making her to sit comfortably on the window seat, I was wondering for how long would she keep her mouth shut?  Before I ended my thought she asked me, “Papa, you told you will buy me a new key board…”
I knew I had never told as such.  She was lying to me, in which she was specialized.  Perhaps, I loved my little girl’s sometimes stupid and sometimes mind-blowing lies.  She had such a wonderful creative power to spin up stories.
I asked, “When did I say?”
“You said last week.”
“Last week I told I will buy you one Barbie doll and as I said I bought you one…”
“No papa, you forgot, let’s ask mama,” she started speaking in Marathi.  Marathi was her mother’s language, I never tried to learn in it and never had an intention of learning it, but my daughter learned it soon.  And I loved to learn Marathi if it was only my daughter, who teaches me.  I told her that I would not buy her things often.
“I will buy you only one thing per month.” I tried to win her at least this time.  Soon she changed her face to look sad and with an angry look she told me, I wasn’t buying anything for her nowadays… She then tried convincing me with all of her favorite flavors, first being angry, and then being loveable, followed by childishness and if all these doesn’t work, she would win with her brahma-ashtra, her teary eyes.  And I never leave the situation to that extent, only her mother does that.  She finds pleasure in scolding her and then I saying that I was spoiling her with my pampering.  During those times, I my daughter would stick to me like a leech, making her mother to scold me more.  I finally agreed to buy her one by this week end but she still continued her stories of how all the ones in her class except her was having a keyboard in their home and how much she loves to play it.  When I travel with my daughter, everyone’s eyes in this bus usually rest with us especially on her.  Many take a chance to befriend her, some pinches her cheeks and some goes beyond and tells us that she was intolerably cute and requests a photo with her.
Bus halted in traffic by the time my daughter was sleep on my lap.  People started to board the bus.  In front steps, I saw a woman, holding a little boy’s hand and forcing him to board the bus.  Her face reminded me of Juveria.  It was Juveria indeed with her son.  She too saw me.  We both recognized each other at the moment we saw each other.  Her son appeared to be cute and by this time he stopped crying.  We talked with each other a few words, I asked her son’s name, she said mine.  She asked my daughter’s name I said hers.
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I Want The Same Love Story To Happen..

Even In My Next Life I Want The Same Love Story To Happen,
I Should Fall In Love With You Unconditionally,
And Dream A Life With You All The Time.
But Always Fear To Express My Feelings,
When I Express, You Shouldn't Accept.
I Should Miss You To The Core Every Day.
I Should Hate My Empty Life And Even Think To End It,
The Same Love Story But With A Small Twist.
Someday In Your Next Life I Wish And I Pray To God That,
I Could Make You Miss Me Like You Made Me Miss You.
One Day You Should Miss Me The Most Like I Miss You Now.
Then I Should Hug You From Behind, Saying,
“I Won't Allow You To Suffer In The Same Pain Of Missing Someone Special.
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Paper Smoke Dreams...

It is a snowy evening.I searched for a safe and comfortable place to lie and have a peaceful sleep. I am like a beggar but I don’t beg.Instead I sing some songs and get the money for it, and how could this be accounted as begging.Perhaps this is what I tell to console myself.I finally found a small house.The house is lined in the top with bamboo roof.Since the house is locked I sat on the small verandah and sang a happy song.I mostly sing happy songs, either to the crowd in the bus while asking for alms or during my lonely hours to kill the time.And at times I sang the sad songs, only when I believed I would feel happy about it.Yes I wanted to live a regret less life, for that I know I have to be contented with my present and accept the past which led to this present and should not hope or discouraged about my future based on his present.One has to do all these things every time, and then only a man could be really happy.

Well this is the way I live my life.Life is short and the bitter truth is that we all are going to die maybe not soon but for sure.Are you such a spendthrift to waste your meager precious moments by worrying?Just think that the things you are afraid to imagine are already over. Make the next step carefully and be happy.It is nothing wrong to trust that everything will be fine, when you well know that it is always in your hands to make everything fine. You may not accept but the truth is your life will be splendid once if you learn to accept those hard things and smile on easily.Life is crazy and all humans are also.See one day we all are going to die surely and we all know this yet we live.There is no other craziness greater than this.So there is nothing wrong in living crazily.I try my level best to live crazily, maybe that was one of the reasons why I was singing songs for alms in the streets, but no worries and no regrets I am happy anyway.I don’t have any regrets with my present, it’s all okay for me to live a happy life, but I too have some regrets for my past.

People who are inside our heart are the ones who don’t understand it fully.I had loved my wife but that is another sad story and I don’t want to think about that and feel sad about it.It might be that I am shielding myself against the worries because I don’t want to be weak but this doesn’t mean I am a coward to face these.I could face these feel pain but what’s the use?
 In past days, when I was around twenty years I used to wish, I should have been beautiful a little more.I wished I had plumpy cheeks, thick dark hair and muscled body. But then I realized, we have to take life easily.We have to accept when something when they happens to us.People say we have to accept things, but I would say we have to enjoy things. Why force ourselves to accept those when you can enjoy those as the way they are.We should just learn to enjoy being something, and be happy of ourselves of being anything.

When I think about my past life there were only failures and disappointment stories.I had lost all my loving ones and all the wealth I had, I am now an orphan, a destitute orphan more precisely.I have faced tragedies, sang melancholics and had heartbreaks but I didn’t die, as it had to be if being sad had been the purpose of my life. I just wanted to choose between either of these options: to live happily or die happily but not to live sadly.And I chose the first option for best.If I wanted to be so much sad, then I should have died for there is no other sadness intense than it.But I live, this means I don’t want to be too much sad.Nevertheless what I feel is that if I live then I should live happily and don’t want to be sad at all, right? It was the mere purpose of life, isn’t it?

Everyone has their own views, their own beliefs, their own false and true stories about happiness, the purpose and enjoyment and contentment of their lives.I have my own too.Man is unhappy because of only one reason.He thinks of the ways that made him happy in earlier days without knowing that those ways cannot make him happier.And those ways eventually fails and he is unhappy at last... He has to change it… He has to find new ways.In our childhood we were care free and happy but we can’t be happier by adopting the same way of care freeness after having attained all the responsibilities.Instead we have to find a way of making ourselves happy by taking responsibilities and enjoying them... Life is weather.It‘s those changes taking place in every moment that makes life interesting and without it would be plain.So, we have to find new ways.Now I am not rich and I don’t have anything but I have found happiness in this way... That is I am the only man who can remain happy even in this situation and this is what makes me pride and this pride gives me happiness that’s it... In my younger days, I had many dreams and many wishes and many yearnings for how my after math marriage life or older life is going to be.But now I laugh at myself for wasting my days like that.Did I dream so much only for this?
You can create happiness you can do anything... You can snap your finger and stop the world ... You can make anyone envy by being happy that after your life everyone will fight to have your life.Only thing is we shouldn’t compare ourselves with others.They say feel happy by comparing yourself with handicaps and beggars.Only fools do it. You don't know how much happy they were and I am.If you are alive you are blessed and no one is highly blessed and no one is lightly blessed nothing like that.This is what I tell to myself every time.
And don’t think that I don’t have any hopes for my future as my present life itself a happy one. Right now I am practiced to be lazier and I have hopes to work, earn and live my life in future but now I feel happy in being lazy because this age is apt for enjoying my life.I have hopes for my future life and that is to live my life happily as the way I do now and have a peaceful and self contented death one day.And this way my life goes on beautifully sometimes singing songs in the railway stations, sometimes in temples and churches and sometimes in the verandas of the locked houses.It is earlier morning when the owner of the house came and shouted at me to get away from his house compound.

I gave a smile and went out of that house.I am feeling sleepy and I know there are many other places for me to sleep maybe another locked house with an open verandah.I am going to find one and going to enjoy my sleep until I would wake up for a new day with a happy song.It’s simple logic for life.When sadness comes to spoil your happiness then you have to find happiness in that sadness to spoil your sadness.Some sadness is a kiddo, if you stop paying attention to it. It would stop coming towards you again and again.I would not say that you better things are waiting for you and that was the reason you missed them... Better things may not happen to you... You might end up with better things... Better things may come once again and fall out of you... Things are not sure and no one can assure you how your life is going to be... But it’s your life you decide how you want it to be if you want to get out of all these you have to start the journey by yourself...
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