Showing posts with label sacrifice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sacrifice. Show all posts

Sunday, 7 May 2017

Chase Your Dreams

The biggest agony of our life is that we focus more on shortcomings rather than blessings. I wasted a lot of years of my life cursing my limitations. I was a basketball player and I believe I was good at it, but my height acted as a roadblock and I left my passion. Though now I know my height was not the reason for my failure, my self-belief was.




I was introduced to the above quote by Richard Bach long after I gave up playing basketball. And the woman who enlightened me with these words is Ms. Shefali Kapoor, owner of Vijay Computer Academy. She grew up between narrow-minded people who cursed her and her two younger sisters just for being girls, for their incapability of carrying further their father’s name. Well, she didn’t anyhow wish to carry her father’s name to the next generation; she dreamt far beyond that. She opened a computer academy with meagre resources. There were times destiny didn’t support her, but never for a moment she faltered. For she firmly believed if god has given her a desire, he must have given her the power to achieve it. Her passion demanded sleepless nights, tiring days, countless sacrifices and yet faced many failures, but she didn’t give up. Her strong will finally change the course of destiny and success followed. The academy which was named after her father “Vijay” has now its wings worldwide. Her father’s name has not only survived but honoured.

Her words have since been my friend, philosopher and guide. They hold me up every time I am about to give up. Though the passion of being a basketball player had withered long before I met her, I have dreams that if I share, I will be called crazy. Well, I like being called crazy is a different point. When dream becomes passion, it forces you to push your boundaries, your comfort zone and much more. It gives soul to life. A week, a month, a year, a decade, let it take what it does, but chase it until you achieve it.
Pic : Link

I connected with the above quote so deeply that it became a part of my belief system. Then there are quotes that touch us, but the words slip by our memory just like that. I wonder what words can do to us. It can alter our personality, so we need to wisely choose what we read. And carve the precious ones in our character.

This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


Wednesday, 9 March 2016

Isn't Life All About Choices



Isn't life all about choices.

Choice between passion and career
                              Duties and responsibilities
                              Emotions and realism
                              Heart and brain

Sadly, the list is endless.

And as we select one of the two, do we really leave the other? Or we leave a part of us with the one we abandon or rather pretend to abandon.

Lost in these thoughts, I saw my 5-year-old submerging a painting in water. Hesitantly, slowly, the colors dissolved in water, leaving its soul - the painting.

And I wondered aren’t we all like that faded painting, losing our colors bit by bit, every time we leave the water – oh, I mean one precious thing for other in life.

Wednesday, 13 May 2015

Forever...

Photo credit - Asha Dimri


He waved a goodbye to his family as he left for the war. But then before entering the train he walked back to his family. Goodbye becomes tougher when you are not sure it’s not the last one.

He tried hard to conceal his pain as he lifted his daughter and kissed her.

“Daddy, why is mumma crying?” she asked as he put her down.
“She will miss me.”
“Tell her you will come back soon and then we will stay together. Forever.” her brown eyes twinkled with hope.
Forever… the word lingered in the air, the weight of that word was so much that he couldn't reply.
“Promise?” she asked.
“Promise” He forced a smile and walked towards his wife.
“You promised me you will be strong.” He took her hand in his.
“It’s not easy but I am trying.” She couldn’t make it any more than a whisper.

They hugged before he got into the train. He wished the time to stop then and there, he wanted to spend some more time with her daughter, get amazed by her crazy talks, be with his wife and enjoy all the caring, be with his mother and support her through her last days but alas this wasn’t his destiny. Warfield was waiting for him with uncountable struggles.

He waved them as long as he could see them, and long after that. He wondered what his daughter must be talking about; moon or stars or dolls or fairies? He imagined his wife smiling at her crazy stories, imagined his mother singing lullabies to her daughter.  For he knew Imagination was the only place he could meet them; at least for a long time to come. Or forever?

He fought bravely for his country, for people he didn’t knew, for you, for me, for people who were not connected to him but still connected. But then one day in the war field, a small bullet robbed him of his big dreams.

And as his heartbeats slowed down…

The last sound he heard was the deafening noise of bombs and bullets…and then a dead silence in which echoed the sweet voice of his little princess…promise…

The last sight he saw was of countless dead bodies, smoke and dust….and then it all vanished…he saw her daughter running towards him, her favorite doll still in her hand.

The last touch he felt…of bullet… and once again he drifted towards imagination…touch of her tender hug… and with it he lost the touch of a desire to be with his family forever…forever…

Forever… the word reverberated as he closed his eyes, for the last time.

Death of a soldier is not a single death, it is death of a mother, a father, a sister, a wife, a child, it is death of a family, of uncountable dreams, thousand unmet promises and infinite hopes. A life goes out and a body returns; the pain is unfathomable, his family was a partner in his bravery and his sacrifices. Family of a soldier deserves a salute as well.

“Mumma, why papa is sleeping, why is he not talking to me?” the little princess asked when the dead body came home, unaware of what she has lost. 
Mumma had no reply for her painfully innocent questions; her questions only led mumma to cry louder.
Did I say something wrong? She wondered “I am sorry mumma, why are you crying? Actually it is good, he is sleeping so now he won’t go back. He will stay with me forever.” she pained mumma further in lieu of comforting her.

It would be long before she would understand that all her dreams to spend a life with her father were unreal, when she would see other children her age sitting on their dad’s shoulder she would just look around searching for her lost father. But…He was gone. Forever? The word was same but the meaning it carried was not, it transformed completely; from hope to pain and dreams to emptiness.

But in spite of all the diversity it entailed forever was not a fake word. He was gone and not yet gone. He lived forever in memories of his loved ones and in the freedom we are proud of.