Who am I? - Best Short Story

The mercurial temperament of human nature never ceases to amaze me. Each of us, with the entirety of our passion, make big commitments of changing oneself for the greater good, but frankly how many of us adheres to them? With the advent of 2016, we shall decide our resolutions, and pledge certain things to our self. But with the passage of time, how many of us will stick to them?

I will change myself. I will be in touch with my near and dear ones, throughout the year. I will no longer be gripped by despondency. I will no longer drink alcohol or eat non-veg. With such ease we make such resolutions, but what happens when the time comes to abide by them?
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What is important: Past, Present or Future?

Between Past, Present and Future, what matters the most? How to be happy and how to stay happy every moment? Around which phase of Time should our life revolve to make the most of life? Some would say the answer lies in ignoring the past, focusing on Present and preparing for the future. But, is it so simple? Which is the most important period of life in your life, that shall help you to be and stay happy. Let's analyze logically.

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Your Past Makes You Happy

Suppose today, your day didn't go well. And you are dejected about it, which even prompts you to rethink whether your life is happy. Then you recollect your cheerful old days of Past. As long as I have such beautiful memories, I shall be happy. It brings a smile upon your face. So, what made you happy now? Living in the Present? No! So, the answer is: your Past makes you happy.

Your Present Makes You Happy

But on the other hand, suppose you are a person who's being acclaimed and hailed by all, and pangs of jealousy erupt within those around you, seeing you. But, did you have an awesome life all along? No. Despite your popularity today, Your Past was marked by struggles, taunts and criticism. So, does your Past make you happy? No. So, the answer is: your Present makes you happy.

So, finally, what is important: To have a good Past or to have a good Present? Because, everything is mind game. Whatever you presume to be important, shall only matter. Thus, it's important to know what should be good.

Your Future Makes You Happy

So I think neither Past nor Present matters. Because, Past has gone away and present is soon to go away as well. What difference does it make if Past was good, when Past in itself is no more! What difference does it make if Present is good, when Present in itself is about to become Past soon! So, it's your Future that should be good.

Manas Madrecha quotes that: "It is on the banks of hope, the river of life flows." The hope that tomorrow's going to be better and more fruitful than today or yesterday keeps us going on. You may have a pathetic past or even a miserable present, but if your future's good, then everything's good. So, the answer is: your Future makes you happy.

But, the counterargument is that Future doesn't have an existence of its own. So, again the question comes back to - What should be good: Past or Present?

I think it's our past that should be good. Why? Because, everything ultimately turns into Past. In the end, what shall matter is how well you lived and what a jovial collection of memories you have. So, even now if you have such a collection of wonderful past, then it's sufficient.

But, if we become content with having a good Past, then won't we be limiting our good times? Our efforts shall attenuate and we shall no longer strive for betterment. The disregard of Present, overshadowed by the feeling of complacency with Past, shall in turn ruin our Present, which shall eventually ruin our Past, because Present ultimately becomes Past.

Conclusion

Now, we have come closer to unraveling the unanswered question finally.

The fact is that past is bygone and future lies in nonentity. Thus, the only alternative left to be made good is Present.
For Past to be good, focus should be on flourishing the Present. Then Past will instinctively be nourished, for if Present is an acorn, Past is its oak tree.
For Future to be good, yet again the focus should be on improving the Present, because for Future to actualize, it has to first materialize into Present.

So, what is important: Past, present or future?
The answer is: Every phase of Time matters.
And on what should our focus be? It's your PRESENT, so that Past or Future will be taken care of automatically.

Was it so simple? Yes, it was, is and will be.

© by Manas Madrecha
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Superheroes don’t exist - Inspirational Story

As we grow up, we cut wings of our imagination and form rigid opinions that in turn becomes dogma of your life. Here's an inspirational story by Manas Madrecha that hopes to rekindle your belief and make you acquaint with the fact that nothing that stifles your beliefs is incontrovertibly true, because Truth is collateral to perceptions. After all, a person may be just another individual to you; but for that person, you may be the whole world.

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Loneliness - Hindi Poem on Moon

The enticing allure of moon is an epitome of many metaphors. Here is a poem on moon by Manas Madrecha that captures the irresistible pulchritude of this femme fatale and eulogizes its charming pride that enraptures us all. But enmeshed in the black canopies of space, not unlike any damsel, even the moon pines for someone to solace its loneliness.
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Value of your Life - Inspirational Story

Every being is exclusive because no one can imitate your character. Your distinction lies in your ability to be unparalleled. Cherish the fact that you are neither alike nor different than one another, for your personality is disparate and one of its own kind.
Yet, in spite of being a nonpareil, we tend to forget our individual worth, the common reason being getting intimidated by inferiority complex and losing faith in ourselves. However, when we begin to question our forgotten value that is the time when we realise our significance, irrespective of what others speak about you.
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First Talk About Yourself - Hindi Poem

We often overlook our own limitations, not because we don't pay attention to ourselves, but we are more delightfully engrossed in finding other's. Following is a poem on self by Manas Madrecha that advises us to primarily be focused on getting one's flaws rectified before criticizing others and be aware of how great one is. If one aspires for impeccability, then one must self-analyze and deal with own foibles rather than relish the prospect of highlighting other's imperfections.
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I Love You, Gandhi - Contemporary Story

An immortal soul was born in India to transfigure the entire humanity by propagating the age-old principles of Truth and non-violence. Here is a story by Manas Madrecha that will make you realize how people look upon Mahatma Gandhi in modern sense.

**********

India was imbued with revolutionary ardor, when I had the fortune of meeting him. It was my birthday, and my father had took me to this man with whom I apparently shared the same birth date: 2nd October.

Despite the decades that have ensued our meeting, I remember it like yesterday when he had ruffled my hair and told me, "Son, one must maintain integrity in one's actions and thoughts, because you are the future of this nation!" I was only ten then, but those words had been carved in my conscience for perpetuity.

Two years later in 1947, when India had unshackled Herself from foreign rule, and the name of Gandhi had resounded in every corner of the world, my exultation of victory was overwhelming. My hero had led us to freedom.

After all these years, even as I become an octogenarian on my birthday today, for the Independence that you bestowed upon us, I love you, Gandhi...

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**********

I hate going to school. I don't mind playing mischiefs with my friends, or running around the corridors in the recess, but I hate waking up early and furthermore I hate studies. All I want to do is play all day long. But Mommy and daddy says that, "If you want to become a big man in life, you must study!" But not today at least!

"Mommy, I am going down to play!"

I ran towards the garden where my other fifth-standard friends had already arrived. All the schools had holiday today. Yesterday, our teacher had told us, it's the birth anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi, father of our nation. Well, be it so! For the holiday that you give us each year, I love you, Gandhi...

**********

I hear a mild bang on the closed shutter of my shop. I slightly lift it up from inside, to find two men who happen to be my regular customers, waiting flustered.
"Two bottles, usual ones!"

"No sir ji, not today. I'll get caught!"

"Come on, it's just the two of us!"

"But..." I give up my protest when I see one of them removing two notes of one thousand rupees.

I don't understand why can't I sell alcohol on this day openly. I mean, why even declare it a 'dry day', when people anyway buy it? Apprehensively, I hand over their drinks to them, damning Gandhi, whom I don't like as my business has to suffer for a day because of him!

But, as my eyes fall on his photo on our crisp currency, with an avaricious smile, I kiss it and decide, I love you, Gandhi...

© Story by Manas Madrecha
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Remnants of Reminiscence - English Poem

The nostalgic journey of recollecting the past often brings a smile upon our face. Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha that unfolds how the poet remembers his tale of the fictional forgone days, and savors the aroma of remembrance.
Although we may pretend to move forward in our rapid lives, but the saying "Old is gold" time and again loves to prove itself by gifting us with the phenomenal present of memories of the past.
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All Men are Dogs - Thriller Story

It was late midnight. My car had broken down all of a sudden; I was stranded at the strange place, all alone. With each passing minute, my hope to get some assistance was wavering like the intermittent road light that was illuminating the spooky street.

I tried to contact my co-workers, but, the absence of network in my mobile phone clearly amplified my helplessness. Suddenly I saw a pair of headlights approaching from my left. The Audi to which they belonged came to an abrupt halt beside me.

As the window glass lowered, a pale sight of a man in his late fifties became visible.

"Do you need lift, madam?" he asked.

I took a while to respond. The incidents of unknown men seeking carnal pleasures from helpless women were not unknown to me, and also the possibility of paedophile couldn't be discarded. But, with no other alternative available, my urge to reach hotel as soon as possible, overwhelmed my suspicious nature, and I nodded.

His face beamed and his eyes widened. He unlocked the door, and I stepped in cautiously.

"Where do you want to go?" he inquired in similar unnaturally kind tone.

"Not far from here, if you could just drop me by Hotel Jubilanta."

He pressed the accelerator and the luxurious car zoomed ahead. I couldn't help but notice that though he faced ahead, he kept on looking at my bodice from the corner of the eyes. I fumbled with my one-piece and vainly tried to stretch it below my knee.

"You look very beautiful."

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No wonder, I thought, my notion of 'all men are dogs', time and again proves itself. But, I sealed my lips, for this cheap man had given me lift in my need.

He turned towards me and continued conversationally, "So, are you new to the town?"

"Oh yes, I am here on a business trip. My colleagues will be awaiting my return at the hotel." I purposely laid stress on the latter sentence to strongly convey it to him that I, though it may seem, am not alone. So, if you plan on doing something, beware!

"Oh, and may I know your name?"

This sudden change of topic took me by surprise.

"Sakshi" I lied. He had no reason to know Aishwarya was my real name.

With a smug smile stuck on his face, he continued to drive the rest of the journey, in silence. I didn't complain. To while my time, I took a piece of old newspaper lying ahead. I was about to read it, but he turned right and the hotel came in view.

The car stopped in front of the gate. It was time to formally express gratitude.
"Thank you so much for your help, uncle!" Though you were so cheap with your stares and remarks.

His smiled diminished upon hearing 'uncle'.

"I'm not your uncle, sweetheart!"

I hurriedly got off the car and looked back once only to find those longing eyes gazing at me.

"Oye wait!"

Still clutching the newspaper, I raced towards the hotel, savoring my rescue from the sleaziness of that cranky old man.

**********

It was late midnight. I was returning back to my home while driving my Audi, that had actually meant to be a gift for somebody else. The radio sang slow songs, to soothe my lonely life. Suddenly, in the dim road light, I spotted a young girl anxiously waiting beside her car, which supposedly had broken down.

Old memories stung my eyes, and I resolved to stop and help the poor soul. I stopped the car near her, and lowered the window. Oh my God! She's just like her.

"Do you need lift, madam?" I asked tentatively.

Her expressions changed from surprise to shock to contemplation. Oh, even her eyes are so similar to her. Destiny is so enigmatic. As I was hopeful for her not to decline, she gave a brief nod. My prayers were answered.

She climbed in. I asked her destination. Hotel Jubilanta? I gasped! She has come back. My sweetheart has returned to her home. I am not a fool. Excitedly, I raced ahead, eager to reach home, as soon as possible.

I have waited for you so long. Let me have a proper look at you, my dear.

"You look so beautiful!" Of course, she does! After all, she's mine. Look at the way she responds to the flattery with cute silence.

"So, are you new to the town?"

Oh, she is still on the business trip! Not any more! I won't allow you to go away again. You must enjoy your life. Chill out. Party, if you want. But no more business trips!

I noticed her uneasiness. Wait, I have recognised her; why hasn't she yet? She is my sweetheart, isn't she? Oh, what if she's not? No no no! She's my only hope to prove to the society that I was right all along! To abate my tempest of doubts, I asked her her name.

Sakshi! I screamed jubilantly in my head! I am right! My euphoria became evident on my face. I was so pleased with myself. Her presence had rekindled all my hopes, calmed all my doubts, and will in no time refute my insanity. I was so happy.

Hey, why has she taken my newspaper? Well, let it be. She deserves it more. Any ways, we are going to stay together.
I took a right turn, and my home came in the sight. I stopped the car in front of the gate.

"Thank you so much, uncle!" What? Uncle? I gaped at her.

"I'm not your uncle, my sweetheart!"

She suddenly opened the door and swiftly walked away. What happened?

"Oye wait!"

Oh destiny, I curse you. Don't you remember me, my sweetheart? I was about to scream at her, but her abrupt departure raged back my frustration. Maybe, she was just an ordinary girl and not my sweetheart! Because unlike this girl, my sweetheart would have surely remembered me. My daughter would have remembered me. When she comes back, she will! Oh yes, she'll come back. I'm not a fool. She'll come back! As I parked my car, and entered my bungalow adjacent to the hotel, tears trickled down my face. I won't lose hope. I will wait for her, forever, if that's what Destiny wants.

**********

As I entered the hotel, the manager came running towards me.

"Oh Aishwarya madam, you had been away for too late. Is everything okay?"

I informed the manger to send someone to bring back my broken car in the morning, and having taken the keys from him, I went to my room, without any talk of that old dog's incident.

I need a hot bath! Where's my face wash? I rummaged through my hand bag and threw aside the tiny piece of crumbled newspaper on the bed. Oh I had forgotten about it. Any ways, let me first take a shower.

But the lamp light gleamed upon it and two year old news report revealed two photos: a pretty young girl like me and an elderly man. OMG! That's the man who gave me lift!

I picked up the paper and began to read:

Daughter of Hotel Tycoon Found Dead


Ms Sakshi Saxena (20), the only daughter of the renowned hotel tycoon, Mr Rajesh Saxena (58) was found dead last night, lying alone in the murky street two blocks away from Hotel Exotica in Delhi, a part of Jubilanta group owned by Mr Saxena. The marks on her body, though yet to be confirmed, also supposedly suggest sexual assault on her, who was on a business trip to the metropolitan city.

Ms Pooja, one of the co-workers of Ms Saxena, told us that about the profound relationship between the father & daughter, and also how he had expressed his unwillingness to let her daughter go to the big city for business trip. "Uncle loved Sakshi very much. He couldn't bear any separation from her. Even when he melted in front of Sakshi's stubbornness to go, he used to daily call her and had booked rooms for her at their own hotel.

The police are continuing with their investigation. "We have found some evidence like traces of blood, patches of sole, and torn piece of shirt , that suggests that criminal was an old man in late fifties. The forensic report and post-mortem report are yet to come, that we might add substance to our case.

Mr Saxena, the owner of 37 hotels spread all over the country, upon hearing the news, is reported to go in deep trauma, resulting in loss of sanity. Before he was admitted in the hospital for treatment, his last words quoted in front of the media were, "She will come back. Look, I have even bought her an Audi for gift. I am not a fool. She will come back!"

With wet eyes, I kept the paper aside and with a heart heavy with guilt, I stared in the mirror. Resolved not to judge people by sight, I admitted I was wrong. Not all men are dogs.

© Story by Manas Madrecha
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In the Courts of Love - Hindi Poem

Love is such a beautiful emotion; yet, when this emotion is dipped with romance and longing, the attachments that accompany it, often results in foolishness or hopelessness. Following is a poem on love by Manas Madrecha that describes the plight of couples into which they fall after falling in love.
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Rakhi – A Story of Brother and Sister

On the occasion of Raksha Bandhan, a festival celebrated to rekindle love between brother and sister, Manas Madrecha presents a story with drama genre, that spans over decades as the two gets busy with their own lives.


The fracas in the house was making it difficult for the elder relatives to listen to each other, but who could shout at the chubby little Akash and his younger adorable sister Priya to calm down? Also, no one wanted to meddle themselves in the matters of children. So, they decided to rather enjoy it.

Raksha Bandhan, the festival epitomizing brother-sister love had arrived. But the seven-year old Akash had forgotten to get the five-year old Priya her gift, and the latter had refused to tie his favourite cartoon's rakhi, unless he got her favourite chocolates!

"No brother! I won't listen. You had promised me!"

"Priya, I'm sorry. Now give me my rakhi!"

"I said no! First, you give me my chocolates! I hate you so much."

"Same here. Even I don't want your stupid rakhi then."

Akash frowned at her, and Priya turned her back to him, miffed. The elders laughed boisterously at the cute annoyance of their younger ones. With the case moving nowhere, Grandpa had decided to intervene.

"Priya, my sweetie, do you love me?"

"Of course, Grandpa!" Priya exclaimed with surprise.

"And do you, Akash, my charming boy?"

"No doubt in that, Grandpa!"

"Then, Akash, you'll give your sister her chocolates, as soon as you can tomorrow. And remember that promises are never meant to be broken."

Akash nodded solemnly. Turning to Priya, he continued, "And my dear, I do understand you. But you shouldn't refuse to tie your brother rakhi. Do you know why does a sister tie rakhi?"

"Why, Grandpa? It's because sisters get gifts, isn't it?" asked Priya inquisitively.

"Oh, dear, that's not the real reason. Rakhi binds your brother to love you and safeguard you forever! Don't you two love each other?"

The two kids glared each other for a spilt second. And forgetting and forgiving past follies, Priya tied Akash's rakhi on his wrist, who gave her a tight bear hug in return.

"I love you so much, brother!"

"Even I love you a lot, Priya! And I also promise to love you and safeguard you forever."

"But, first get me my chocolates tomorrow, then make such promises, brother!" Priya guffawed.

Wiping her wet eyes with the drape of her sari, Mom smiled at them.

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Ten Years Later


"Oh, for heaven's sake, keep that mobile phone aside, brother! It's Raksha Bandhan"

"Yes, my pimply princess" Akash teased Priya.

"Mom," she shouted, "Look, he's again pinpointing at this stupid tiny lump on my face!"

"Oh you two always keep on fighting, and when I come in between, you both get along lovingly and isolate me!" Mom glowered, but her wink ruined the effect.

Priya giggled; Akash chuckled back.

"Okay brother, so let's see what gift you have got for me?"

"Patience, Priya! First at least tie me rakhi. Then you can do check my pimple - oh I mean - my simple gift. I don't think you would like that one-piece you were so longing to have, would you?"

"Really, brother?" Priya leaped with joy. "I love you so much"

"Same here!" Akash stared at his rakhi with affection.

------------------

Ten Years Later


"Hurry up, Priya, I have a train to catch in an hour. I have got promoted as..."

"...the regional manager of Mumbai!"

"Oh, you remember, don't you?"

"Of course, I do, brother. This is the hundredth time you are telling us!"

A week ago, Akash had received his promotion letter and the arrival of postman had made the house's atmosphere festive even prior to Raksha Bandhan, inflating their parents' chests with pride. But, Priya couldn't help but feel dejected. Not because she was not happy with his brother's promotion, but the uncertainty of when she will see him again after he left for the distant city Mumbai a week later, had gripped her. But like a strong girl, she had been the most loudest to express her joy, at least externally.

"Oh, it seems you are more excited than me!" Akash grinned at her.

Frowning, Priya stuffed a sweet in his mouth, and tied his rakhi. Akash removed a golden chain from his pocket.

"Wow!" cried out the sister, accepting the gift.

Akash touched his parents' feet and hurriedly, with his suitcase in hand, walked towards the door.

He was about to leave, when he turned towards her sister and said, "I'm going to miss you Priya. Will you?"

"Keep dreaming," she said coyly.

A smile shone on both their faces, irrespective of the two hearts screaming in protest of the looming separation that might last for years to come.

------------------

Ten Years Later


It had been a busy day since morning. The blaring alarm had robbed her off sleep quite early and like each day, she had got herself engrossed in the daily chores. After few hours of the morning chaos, with her husband Shreyas and son Parth off to work and school, quiescence had befell on the house in afternoon, as Priya was left alone. But unlike the house, her mind was not silent.

The calendar hung on the wall lazily and proudly shouted the arrival of Raksha Bandhan tomorrow. But, it did nothing to cheer her up. She had sent her rakhi via courier to her brother at Mumbai, but with no response back from him, nervousness had started to stir in her mind.

She kept on looking at the clock and door restlessly, and flowing with the swirling thoughts, she drifted off to sleep. But, even the dreams didn't put provide any relief.

"Had I put the proper address?" she asked herself.

"Of course, you did," replied her conscience, with a ringing noise.

"But, wait! What if he had moved to some new address?"

Again, the ringing noise echoed, and Priya got up suddenly from her afternoon nap.

"Is anyone at home?" shouted a strange voice beyond the door, again ringing the doorbell

She fumbled with her clothes, and went to open it.

"Postman!" said the old visitor mechanically.

Her joy knew no leaps and bounds. "Thank you so much, uncle!"

Taking the parcel, she went in the kitchen to get him sweets (to the postman's surprise) and after expressing gratitude once again, she closed the door and dropped on the sofa, relieved, while carefully clutching the parcel.

With adrenaline rushing through her body, she tore open the packet and out fell a wrapped box and a letter.

Dearest Priya,
I hope you get my letter on time and don't yell at the postman for the delay. How are you, sis? And how's Shreyas and Parth?

First of all, let me wish my darling sister a very happy Raksha Bandhan, even if she has forgotten her brother, it seems. What happened? Out of sight is out of mind, huh? But, I do remember! Look, what I have got you!
But, thanks to your forgetfulness, maybe this year, I will have no rakhi, for my wrist.

Still with loads of love,

Your best bro in the world,
Akash!

The abrupt ending left Priya numb with shock. But, I didn't forget about you brother! I had sent you the rakhi! Maybe, her premonitions were right. The post department had delayed; or even worse, he might never receive his rakhi. She glanced at the letter once again. Wait? What should I look at? Oh, the parcel! Her sight fell on the wrapped packet lying aside. With trembling hands, she opened it up. Oh my God! You are the best brother in the world! With watery eyes, she put her favourite chocolate in her mouth.

------------------

The Next Day

The cacophony of the alarm never failed to wake Priya on time. It had been a sleepless night. Even nothing Shreyas, who usually sounded in a jocular mood, did yesterday to console her could calm her.

"It's not your fault, dear," he had said in serious tone. "Parcels do go astray. Don't blame yourself, if your rakhi didn't reach him."

How ironic it is about relationships that when we do something wrong, we bluntly refuse to accept it; but when the fault isn't ours, the guilt and the desire to love compels us to admit we're wrong. Akash had remembered her favourite gift, and what did she do in return? Albeit unable to tie, she couldn't even give him his deserving rakhi, she thought.

Priya was serving breakfast to her beloved husband and son, who had holiday, when suddenly the doorbell rang.
"Who might it be at this early hour?" she asked.

Shreyas shifted uncomfortably and said, "Why don't you check it yourself?" A slightest smirk on his face didn't go unnoticed by Priya and she cautiously opened the door.

"BROTHER!" she shrieked exuberantly. "H-How? W-why?" she faltered.

"Will you keep questioning me, or let me enter?" he grinned broadly.

"Of course, Of course! You are always welcome!"

"And this is how you invite me? Come on, Priya!" He bent forward and embraced her affectionately.

As soon as he came in, Parth ran from his table to greet his uncle, who ruffled the young one's hair. "You have grown big!"

"What a pleasant surprise, Akash!" Shreyas winked at him.

"Oh, it's good to see you too, Shreyas!"

And then suddenly, looking at Priya's confused expression, both burst into peals of hearty laughter.

"Hey, what's going on here? Am I missing something?"

Akash waved his hand, and showed her her rakhi tied to his wrist. "Oh, you have surely missed me, I can look at your puffy eyes and tell."

"But... How? I don't get it. Your letter said..."

"You really think you would send me such a loving rakhi and I won't get it?"

"Then, that was..."

"A brilliant idea!" He laughed, "Your husband is an amusing man, sister."

Priya looked at Shreyas reproachfully.

"Actually, it was Parth's idea to play a prank!" Shreyas sniggered.

Priya turned towards her son, who was already at the doorstep. "Mom, I am going down to play!"

"Come back, you naughty little monkey!"

"Oh, come on Priya, its Rakhi! Give him a break. See, Akash has come to meet you!"

She looked at Akash, who was still smiling. Finally, she had met him, after so many years. Time had quickened the pace of life, but the love between brother and sister had grew even more. Though they had been far away from each other, mere sight of the other had filled the void of their hearts and strengthened their bond.

"I hate you so much," said Priya, with her face gleaming with tears, and lips curving into a smile.

"Same here!" Akash stared at his rakhi with affection, and winked at her.

© Story by Manas Madrecha
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I Fell In Love With You - Love Story

As I opened the window, the wet gush of wind soaked me, and I ceded myself to the drizzling shower that entered my bedroom lazily. Absent mindedly I allowed the cool droplets to fall on my face, as I closed my eyes and the mind involuntarily drifted to your thoughts in the presence of the rain that had brought us together.
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Eyes Don't Lie - Hindi Poem

Despite being dual in number, eyes play versatile roles of expression. It is our eyes that unmasks the scripted emotions, and portrays a true picture. Following is poem by Manas Madrecha, that eulogizes the enigmatic beauty of eyes and seeks to fathom the depths of the eyes...

नयन नहीं बतियाती झूठ


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रक्त क्रोध के शोला बरसे, ओझल झलके प्रेम पवित्र।
दया याचे, मुख बांचे 'मानस'; दो आँखे पर भाव सहस्त्र।।

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मुख पर चिपका लो मुस्कान, बैठ जाओ 'मानस' या रूठ।
सत्य प्रतिज्ञा ली हैं इसने, नयन नहीं बतियाती झूठ।।

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हृदय एक और आँखे दो, और दो जब होती 'मानस' चार।
पड़े ऐसा दृष्टि पर वार, प्रारंभते अँधा प्यार।।

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मंद हलचलों से मानस, इतराती नयन भी शरमाती।
विलोकनीय तकती अनिमेष; पल पल पलकें झपकाती।।

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कौन सामने, क्या वद्य हैं, भाँप लेती हर इक तेवर।।
पञ्च इन्द्रियों में 'मानस', अनमोल लोचनानि ज़ेवर।।

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एहसास चेतना सहती हैं, पर 'मानस' आँखें बहती हैं।
चमक अनल की नैनों में, जिव्हा से ज़्यादा कहती हैं।।


Nayan Nahi Batiyaati Jhooth


Rakt krodh ke sholaa barse, ojhal jhalke prem pavitra;
Daya yaache, mukh baanche 'Manas'; do aankhe par bhaav sahastra...

Mukh par chipkaa lo muskaan, baith jaao 'Manas' ya ruth;
Satya pratigya li hain isne, nayan nahi batiyaati jhooth...

Hriday ek aur aankhe do, aur do jab hoti 'Manas chaar;
Pade aisa drishti par vaar, praarambhte andhaa pyaar...

Mand halchalo se 'Manas', itaraati nayan bhi sharmaati;
Vilokneey takti animesh; pal pal palke jhapkaati...

Kaun saamne, kya vadya hain, bhaanp leti har ik tevar;
Panch indriyo mein 'Manas', anmol lochanaani zevar...

Ehsaas chetna sehti hain, par 'Manas' aankhe behti hain;
Chamak anal ki naino mein, jivhaa se zyaada kehti hain...

© Poem by Manas Madrecha

Eyes Don't Lie


They pour the scarlet flames of anger; they glint the disappearing sacred love; they seek mercy; they read the face - There are two eyes, but thousands of emotions (in them)...

Whether you stick a smile upon the face, or sit sulkily, eyes don't lie, for they have taken the oath of Truth...

There is one heart and two eyes, and when these two eyes become four (that is, when it meets another set of eyes), it strikes such a blow on the vision, that it initiates blind love...

By subtle movements, even a boastful eye blushes. (Sometimes) without closing itself, it keeps gazing what is worthy to be looked upon; while (sometimes) it keeps on blinking the eyelids every other moment...

Who is in the front and what is worthy to be spoken - they are able to gauge every gesture. Among the five senses, eyes are the invaluable ornaments...

It is the consciousness that endures, but it is the eyes that flow. The gleam of water in the eyes, speaks more than the tongue...

© Poem by Manas Madrecha
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Hail Mother India (Bharat Mata Ki Jai) - Hindi Poem

On the 69th Independence Day on 15th August 2015, I offer my homage to the celebrated land of India. Following is poem by Manas Madrecha, that glorifies the nation and its supercalifragilisticexpialidocious culture, history and potential to become a superpower soon...

भारत माता की जय


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जन्म-दायिनी ममतामयी, माँ भारती शीश नवाऊँ।
संगीत उपजा प्रथम जहाँ पर, 'मानस' उसके गुण गाऊँ।।

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हिमालय का सरताज सिर पर, दक्षिण में समुद्र-आगोश।
सुन 'मानस' भारत माँ की जय, उर में करे संचार जोश।।

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अखंडता भारत की 'मानस', और एकता हैं मिसाल।
हाथ थामकर, एक जानकर, भेदभाव की गिरे दीवाल।।

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था गौरवशाली 'मानस' भूत, करना पर यह भी मुमकिन।
वर्तमान में कर्मठ बन, बनाना हैं कल को स्वर्णिम।।

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बहुत हुआ भू पर द्यु का, 'मानस' बरसों से शोषण।
अब मुक्त हुई सोने की चिड़िया, बनानी हैं फिर जग-भूषण।।

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ग़ुलामी की तोड़ बेड़ी, फ़ैला रही हैं 'मानस' पंख।
विश्व सजग हो जाओ सुन, बज रहा भारती का जय-शंख।।


Bharat Mata Ki Jai


Janm-daayini mamtaamayi, Maa Bharati sheesh navaau;
Sangeet upjaa pratham jahaa par, 'Manas' uske gun gaau...

Himalay ka sartaaj sir par, dakshin mein samudra-aagosh;
Sun 'Manas' Bharat maa ki jay, ur mein kare sanchaar josh...

Akhandta Bharat ki 'Manas', aur ekta hain misaal;
Haath thaamkar, ek jaankar, bhedbhaav ki gire diwaal...

Thaa gauravshaali 'Manas' bhoot, karna hain par yeh bhi mumkin;
Vartmaan mein karmath ban, banaana hain kal ko swarnim...

Bahut huaa bhoo par dyu ka, 'Manas' barso se shoshan;
Mukt huyi sone ki chidiyaa, banaani hain fir jag-bhushan...

Gulaami ki tod bedi, failaa rahi rahi hain 'Manas' pankh;
Vishwa sajag ho jaao sun, baj raha Bharati ka jay-shankh...

© Poem by Manas Madrecha

Hail Mother India


I bow my head to Mother India, who is the giver of birth and affectionate. For the first time, where music sprang from, I sing Her laurels…

Listening to Mother India being hailed, who has crown of Himalayas on the head and lapped by ocean in the south, the heart gets infused with fervour…

The integrity and unity of India is a paradigm. By holding the hands and knowing (everyone) to be one, let the wall of discrimination fall...

The past was glorious, but even this has to be made possible – By becoming diligent in the present, tomorrow needs to be forged golden...

The ‘Heaven on the earth' (India) has been exploited enough, since so many years. Now the golden sparrow has emancipated; again it has to be moulded into an ornament of the world...

Breaking the chains of slavery, She is spreading the wings. O world, get ready by listening to victory-conch of Mother India being played...

© Poem by Manas Madrecha
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Together - Love Story by an Acid Attack Victim

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My face was marred by the gruesome acid attack. After that, I was the cynosure of all eyes everywhere I went. I started working at a florist's shop, thus trying to camouflage myself in the myriad of colorful flowers. That was where I first saw you.

You always used to stand against the wall outside the florist's shop and watch me. Pity and disgust were the only things I found for me in people's eyes. I expected the same from yours. One day, you walked towards me. Hiding my face behind my scarf, I had asked, "How may I help you, Sir?" The words that spilled out of your lips were, "May I have the pleasure of being accompanied by the most beautiful woman in the world?"

It seemed like you had jumped right out of a fairy-tale and
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As Long As I Live - Hindi Poem

Weak is the one who trembles on seeing a storm coming. Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates how indispensable it is to have belief in oneself even in times of peril. "I can't do it" or "I don't have the time to do it" are mere excuses, reflecting lack of self-confidence. One must perform such marvelous actions that the entire world begin to admire your ingenuity.

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:

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Change your Facebook DP into rainbow color. But why?

Recently, Justice Kennedy of USA Supreme Court passed a legendary decision favoring LGBT and their rights, upon which their entire community became gay (cheerful) over it. Millions and millions, across the globe came out in the support of the decision. So, even Facebook thought, "Why should we stay behind? Let's 'Celebrate Pride'!"

Did you change your Facebook DP into rainbow color too - Manas Madrecha - Simplifying Universe

But what can an intangible website offer its people to help them to show their support more explicitly? Let's launch a feature of applying their vibrant flag of rainbow onto your Display Picture. And this feature received such an overwhelming response that the cause of LGBT was put aside in the murky corners of harsh reality and yet again, the prime cause became how much COOL my DP is and how many likes can it garner!

Here is an anecdote, conveying the ironical reality behind some people's intentions in changing their Facebook photos and their factual knowledge:

"Hey, your DP! It's something out of the box," she complimented.

"Yeah! Did you change your Facebook DP into rainbow color too?" he replied, while he continued to tap on the phone screen.

"Well, not actually. But, I have seen many others doing like this; it symbolizes something?" she asked curiously.

"It's the new COOL! Everyone is doing this, so I do!" he replied, still lost in the phone.

She took out her phone and Googled it out. She initially laughed and then continued her grin.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing, just getting updates about LGBT!" she replied.

"LGBT? What does that even mean?" he replied.

She stood and left him with his phone and his virtual world of hypocrisy.

So, if you don't support LGBT or don't even know whom they are, then give yourself a break! First know! Then, act! Just don't follow the bandwagon of rainbow-ing your profile picture, just because others have done it too! Pull down your funky DP, because if you don't, then you are portraying that you concede to "unnatural" union.

And if you are an avid supporter of LGBT, my heartiest congratulations! If you haven't yet changed your Facebook DP into the interesting rainbow, then do it now! Because, it's really commendable and COOL: Both, your colorful DP as well as the recognition of the right of an human being to live his/her life based on individuality of choices!

© by Manas Madrecha
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A Message from Father to Son - Hindi Poem

At any point in life, a venerable advice does wonders. One must always stay vigilant of the company we keep and and how far we need to travel to reach our destination yet. Following is a poem by CA Ashok Madrecha, father of Manas Madrecha, that urges us to be aware of humans and make our best efforts, by staying focused, to attain excellence.

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Shimmer in the Sky - Short Story on Perceptions

A scientist in his laboratory had his eye fixed at his telescope. Just then, there was a shimmer in the sky, lasting only for a fraction of a second. He was enthralled by his latest discovery. All his calculations and life-long wait had finally yielded result. He always believed that a meteor would pass at that time, but no one from the scientific community believed him. Now all of them would have to bow to his intelligence. Odds were there that the meteor might be known by his name 'Kevin' for the ages to come. Enthralled by his latest achievement he shouted at the top of his voice, “This is the best moment in the history of science.”

Several hundred miles away, in the midst of an ocean, a cruise liner was sailing in the blue waters. A newly wedded couple was standing on a deck, gazing at the moonless sky. Just then, there was a shimmer in the sky only for a fraction of a second. “Wow, How beautiful! Aren’t we the luckiest, to view the most romantic moment ever,” exclaimed both in unison. They kissed passionately and vouched for the immortality of their love and went to their suite happily.

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Several hundred miles away, at the frontier of a country, a troop of soldiers were in hiding. They were surrounded by the enemy from all sides. They were to wait there till dawn for reinforcements to arrive. Darkness was their only ally. Just then, there was a shimmer in the sky, lasting only for a fraction of a second. And all their hopes failed them. They were spotted. A shower of lead flew at them and all that was to hear was gunshots. The valiant men were dead and all of them used their last breath to curse the shimmering sky.

Several hundred miles away, a troubled ten-year old was standing at the balcony of his room. Tomorrow, he has to take a math test at school, a subject which had truly earned his hatred. Just then, there was a shimmer in the sky, lasting only for a fraction of a second. A shooting star grants wishes, he remembered. His mom had told him so yesterday. He wished that his exam would go well. Happiness returned to his once sad face as he now had reason to be sure that his test would go well. He went back to his room singing in a cheerful voice, “Daddy will buy me a video game.”

ALSO READ: Depravity - A Mindblowing Story with a Twist

Several hundred miles away, a farmer was watching his harvest intently. After many years his land had yielded such a bountiful crop. He could see his sweat blooming in the farm. A smile of content was there on his face. Just then, there was a shimmer in the sky, lasting only for a fraction of a second. And there was no harvest left, neither the farm, nor the farmer. All that was left there was a crater and acres of barren land for scientists to study the effects of 'Kevin' on earth.

© by Ashutosh Pandey, from popular Facebook page: The Anonymous Writer
Original article here
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Whose Fault Is It! - Get Inspired

Excuses are our companions that help us in coming out of any sticky situation. We are expert in passing on the ball of blame onto someone or something else and wiping our own hands clean. But, deep down, we all have the cognizance to figure out whose fault it is: Us.

But, NO! I won't accept my mistake. I won't accede to the fact that it is me who was wrong. Because, instead of looking like a vile or a foolish person by letting others know that it was my fault, I will justify my vice by either saying that something instigated or someone provoked me to do so.

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Scars Heal - Hindi Poem

It's okay to remember the past; but how rational is it to turn our attitude bitter because of it? Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that expounds on having a simplified heart, devoid of all kinds of unwanted complexities. Also, the poet, time and again, emphasizes on forgiveness, anger management and loving everyone, immaterial of past follies.

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:
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To Fulfill Great Dreams - Hindi Poem

Small aim is a crime. Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that elucidates on having great ambitions and being ready to become exclusive. To dream big, is the first step towards attaining magnificence in life.

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:
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Smile of the First Rain - Hindi Poem

Marking the end of summer's scorching heat, first rain is bliss. Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates the plight before rain and the joy after rain, felt by nature. It also depicts how relieved everyone is after the first shower.

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:

Original Poem:

पहली बारिश की मुस्कान


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Yoga versus Religion

Recently, an abrupt row has been brought into light by the self-proclaimed representatives of certain religions, for Yoga seems anti-religious to them. This debate of "Yoga versus Religion", has gained further momentum, with the International Yoga Day on 21st June coming closer. But, what is the reason behind polarizing the issue on religious terms and that too now? Let's find out!

'Yoga', as an exercise, though has attained popularity since few decades only, in countries other than India, 'Yog' has been an ancient way of lifestyle in India. Yet, it is indecipherable that a handful of people are rejecting it, because it is allegedly being associated with Hinduism. But, it cannot be concluded that, behind making a controversy of Yoga, these handful people are at fault. When Muslims and Christians begin denying Yoga, the blame must not be put on them; rather, the Hindus need to self-evaluate that what went wrong in their conduct, that other people have to oppose a phenomenon that is absolutely for one's greater well-being only!

As I had said earlier on 10th June,
It is the stupidity of Muslims or Christians if they think yoga contravenes their religions!
Furthermore, it is the stupidity of Hindus if they think yoga is their property! 
~ Quoted by Manas Madrecha

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Love is Quicksand - Hindi Poem

Love is sweet poison. Here is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates the aftereffects of relationships and precautions to be taken before 'falling in love', by reciting what happens when love gets disillusioned.

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:
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Our Hope is the Immortal Wealth - Hindi Poem

How to be optimistic, is a big question in today's life. Following is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates the significance of Hope and elucidates on how to get rid of pessimism and adopt positive attitude because Hope is the life force, with which one is able to survive in this world of uncertainties.

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You are beautiful!

"Oh, you are looking good today!" One such remark, and it makes your day. How we long to get admired! But, conversely, when someone frowns upon your dress or hair or countenance, it's like you plunge into the deepest hole of depressive disorder. We all love to look lovely, but why is that we need others to validate our loveliness?

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I Matter, No Matter What! - Get Inspired

We are surrounded by stupidity - demoralizing allegations, demotivating comments, dejecting criticism and forlorn you-can't-do-this label! But that is not a relevant fact. Unfortunately, the relevant fact is many of us tend to believe this stupidity and in turn demean our awesomeness.

We have been told sometimes to limit our vision, because some things are just not what we can achieve. You should try something else, because you are not capable or you don't have the ability. But, stupid are those who believe such remarks! Be smart enough to know you possess innumerable possibilities that can take you anywhere you seek to go, provided you harness your endless potential meticulously.

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Recently I came across a wonderful story that proves how important you are, despite you believing the otherwise.
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The Rainbow of Fear - Short Story with 7 Effects of Fear

They got off the car, all of them, brimming with excitement. Their friend was waiting, tickets in hand. They had planned this long ago, but schedules had clashed. Until this moment. They knew what was in store for them for the next ten minutes. As they walked towards the place, the words, ‘Welcome to Scary Fort’ burning bright atop the building for all to see, they cracked jokes among themselves and clicked selfies. Yet, the moment the huge wooden doors closed, and a hand reached out from the curtains to beckon them forward, their screams echoed loud and clear from the narrow passage ahead. FEAR SELLS.

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Truth is above everything - Hindi Poem on Satya

Under the pretext of being practical or sometimes to simply avoid deserving punishments, we justify our habit of telling lies. However, irrespective of that, deep inside our heart, our guilty conscience screams out in protest. Following is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates the significance, use and advantages of resorting to Truth:

Based upon the visibility of Hindi script on your device or you being a non-Hindi reader or not, you may check following utilities below:

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Dear Diary - Amazing Story on Perspectives

Dear Diary is a story that entwines around an estranged relationship between a mother and son. Why is the mother so cruel? Or is she? Read this amazing story to know more.

***

20th July, 2014 (10:00 PM)
~ by Chirag
Dear Diary,

Today was no different from any other day. As usual, Mom had a huge fight with Dad. She shouted at him, and Dad refrained. The Superman toy Dad gifted me, Mom broke it into pieces with all her wrath.

I had no audacity to intervene in their blatant conversation, else Mom would slap me, or maim me again. Like she had done the last time when Dad got me a lavish beverage. Hence, I went to school with a hard smile on my lips; a sham, once again.
During the morning assembly, I was called on the stage. Principal Ma'am, my teachers, and all the students sang ‘Happy Birthday’ for me. I turned thirteen today. But Mom had forgotten to wish me. My friends asked me what time I'd cut my birthday cake at the evening party. They also wanted to know what special I brought for lunch. Mom had packed chapatis with pickle. She was in a hurry. She has a job. Once, when she was humming a lullaby, she told me how strict her boss was. She worked night shifts those days.

Dad made dinner today, as Mom was busy. But he was upset because I couldn’t cherish my birthday gift that he had given me. Mom lied to me. She said she was busy at work today, but she had been somewhere else. Rajan, my friend told me he had seen her on the road.

I love Dad more than Mom. She is always angry and working. She even left me all alone on the road yesterday. Dad talks to me, he gets me gifts and loves me too.


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***

20th July, 2014 (10:00 PM)
~ by Mother Rani
Dear Diary,

Today was Chirag’s birthday. I didn’t wish him. How could I? On the very morning of his birthday, his father ended up doing something utterly silly. I had earned money to pay for his school fees, but he got him a useless toy instead. He is the biggest blunder of my life. Chirag has no idea that he’ll soon be out of his school. The little money that I had earned the previous month, his father spent that on whiskey bottles. I won’t spare him for that.

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Any Other Teen Girl - Short Story for Teenagers

Indubitably, teenage is the most exciting phase in any person’s life. What makes it so special is the carefree attitude, remarkable friendship with our classmates, endless hangouts with our exceptional gang, comprising of “Best Friends Forever”, and yes, insipid infatuation, often termed as “True Love”. It becomes more amazing when one has a substantial popularity among the peers, as well as in the opposite gender’s gossips.

Owing to my incredible and eventful teenage life (I am not bragging), on a personal note, I am often asked to share those peculiar incidents that were well known by most of our school and college mates. However, the recurrent request is to narrate these instances from my own perspective and as to how I looked upon them.

Manas Madrecha, Manas Madrecha Quotes, Manas Madrecha blog, Manas Madrecha story, simplifying universe, self-help blog, Girl in sunlight, girl, teenage girl, sad girl, teenage story, girl in nature, sunlight girl, love story, love quote, love advice

The following anecdote is one of my personal favorite. It is a simple tale of a simple girl. A girl, that basked in the sunshine of a boy. A girl who drifted in the fragrance of love. A girl who embarked on her journey to seek her prince charming. Did she get what she was looking for? But, what was she looking for?
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Depravity - A Mind blowing Story with a Twist

I see her walking around the school, her practiced gait making sure that the boys notice her, and perhaps more importantly, that I notice her.

Perhaps some sort of perversion, or perhaps a twisted sense of fashion makes her pull her skirt up and tuck the folds inside her waist, her loose sweater covering any shreds of evidence that could prove her guilty of showing off her legs a little too much.

Once I noticed the top button of her shirt unbuttoned too. But today is not that lucky day. The sweater has kept her covered.

Her classmates are attending the science seminar, but that probably does not pique her interest so much. I see her in the school canteen now, perched atop a high stool, showing off a lot more of her legs than usual.

Manas Madrecha, Manas Madrecha blog, simplifying universe, self-help blog, Girl in converse, girl legs, teenage girl, teenage story, love story, story with twist, depravity, hypocrisy story
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Vengeance is an Illusion - Hindi Poem on Revenge

To keep ignited a burning desire to avenge some past folly committed by someone, is harmful for you alone. At any point point of time, it is better to adopt compassion over hatred. Following is a poem by Manas Madrecha, that narrates how logical it is to seek Forgiveness from others and Forgive others on your part too:
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Advices that will definitely lead you to Success

Along with being a man of action, I am an observant. Based upon my interactions with multitudes of people and personal experiences, I have proposed some invigorating advice. I'm sure if you try to encompass them in your lives, then success would be a byproduct of your karma.

Manas Madrecha, Manas Madrecha Quotes, Manas Madrecha blog, simplifying universe, self-help blog, be different, blue background, smiley, smiley background, motivational quote, inspirational quote
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