The End

Aakhir usne sab khatam kar hi diya. I don't know kyu khud se ya kisi baat ke dar se. Piyaar to bahot karti thi per nibha nhi paayi, ladna to bahot chahti thi per lad nhi paayi to apni khushiyo ka gala ghot dusron Ki khushiyon ko gale Laga Liya or bus humse naata thod diya. Ab baat na karunga unse per yaad bahot aayegi or tut to gya hu feer jud nhi paaunga, feer wo hanshi chere per la nhi paaunga, feer se wo hitesh nhi ban paaunga jo hua karta tha, miss karunga unko or unke saath bitaye wo sab palo ko. Kabhi kabhi rona bhi aayega feer samet lunga apne aap ko ye soch ke ki to kya hua waade kiye the saath chalne ke per wo nibha nhi paayi.  Ab feer lagne laga hain koi pyaar nhi hota bus log zindgi se khelte hain or khel ker mun bhar jaaye to zindgi ko chod chale jaate hain. Per koina hum khush hain es baat se ki sayad es baat me wo to khush hain. Wo destiny destiny bahot karte the to kehna unse feer zindna rahe to milenge jha khi raste milenge, kabhi jang huyi uske naam per to buzdil bhi Pehli sakhat me kade milenge. Ja raha hu me ye tera shar chod kar kyuki ab yha sab jagh teri yaade hain jo jine nhi degi. Or hum chah kar bhi ab jee nhi paayenge per aana ho kabhi to es dil ke darwaze khule milenge teri jagh koi le nhi paayega. Mene to pyaar kiya tha apne se jaada sayad wo ye kar nhi paayi, ladna to bahot chahti thi per lad nhi paayi.

"मेरे जैसा हितेश"

मेरे साथ ही हंसता हैं मेरे साथ ही रोता हैं

मेरे हर सुख दुख में मेरे साथ होता हैं

मुझसे बातें करता हैं मेरी बातें भी सुनता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

अपनों की चिंता में अपनो से ही दूर रहता हैं

खुद में गुमसुम रहता हैं खुद में ही उलझा रहता हैं

खुद झमेलों में फस कर भी मुझे खुश रखता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

मेरे जीवन को कांटो की राह बताता है फिर राह को पार करना भी सिखाता है

बुलंदियों को छूने का हौसला भी देता हैं तो

कभी-कभी असफलता का एहसास भी कराता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

मेरा हाथ पकड़ मुझे दुनिया घुमाता हैं 

हर मुश्किलों का हल मुझे बतलाता हैं 

वो मुझे स्वार्थी भी बनना सिखाता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

सच्चाई और ईमानदारी का पाठ भी पढ़ाता है 

हर काम को लगन और मेहनत से करना सिखाता है

मेहनत करो सफलता पाओ यहीं हमेशा याद कराता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

मुझे हंसता भी सिखाता हैं मुझे रोना भी सिखाता हैं

कभी लड़खड़ाता हूं तो मेरी ताकत बन कर खड़ा हो जाता हैं

कहता हैं पानी से ना पतला बनना, पानी से ना मोटा बनना 

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

कभी-कभी मेरी पहचान मुझसे कराता हैं 

कौन अपना हैं कौन पराया हैं ये भी बताता हैं

दिमाग की सुनने को बोलता हैं तो कभी दिल की भी सुनाता हैं

क्योंकि मेरे जैसा ही एक हितेश मेरे अंदर रहता हैं...

GRANDFATHER'S LETTER

         Dear munna Welcome to this world... this is a beautiful, lovely and amazing place and you have been sent here to make it more beautiful and more amazing. Who has sent us ??? No body has been to know that till date and probably its not even important so please don't waste your time on such questions, We all have a limited time here and however we might have, it always seems less there is so much to see, so much to know and so much experience that yo don't have any time to waste.
          Possibilities are endless you can become anything you can do anything you can change this world try something new, everyday try to learn and understand something new and if in doubt remember... it's always better to regret something after doing it rather than regretting without doing it because by doing something, even if you don't gain anything you will gain experience which is very valuable. Experience everything,but don't get addicted, Experience will help you differentiating right from wrong. It's will prevent you from committing mistakes but don't be afraid of committing mistakes because only those who do something make mistakes,, take responsibility for your mistakes and try to rectify them, forgive other people's mistake and give them a chance to rectify it. No one likes to commit mistakes, no one misbehaves on purpose. you don't know, what's going on in anyone's life so treat everyone the way you treat yourself, be as lenient to others as you are to yourself.... respect everyone, trust everyone and most importantly, love everyone.. love is very sparse in this world and everyone needs it. You will need it too don't hesitate to ask for it.. don't hesitate to show it..
             Life is too short to be shy,dance like there is no tomorrow,sing with all your heart,eat as much as you can, laugh loudly and always cry like a baby just like you were crying now...only your body should grow old, not your heart.. the day you loose your innocence you loose your life, think about the future but don't worry abut it.. think about the past but don't get lost in it.. there will be good day and bad. Don't boast too much when the days are good, don't loose hope when the days are bad, don't give yourself all the credit for your success and never blame others for your failures just keep moving forward, keep spreading happiness and always remember, you have been sent here just for one reason to make this world  more beautiful and more amazing.

LOTS OF LOVE
YOUR GRANDMOTHER                                                                                         

EK PREM KAVITA

Today let us free ourselves in such a way,

That we spend some time together and waste some time away.

Let us turn our heads away from all important work,

and fill our minds with just ordinary words.

Think, what have you gained by thinking all the time 

Today, let us think about not thinking at all 

This is the same world that once had Gandhi and Bernard Show

What change did they ever bring, in this world that we saw?

I wonder if there is anything more important than your words?

I will hear them to find answers to everything that is blurred.

I wish that everyone has a friend like I have you,

To hide their faces in their lap and eyes filled with dew.

Let every Alexander go to sleep and every Chengis khan too,

Let every great conqueror find all their failures in you.

Then whatever noise is made, shall be the noise of the rain,

And waterfalls flow from the hair and take turns from the body,again.

इतना दर्द क्यों हैं

तुम्हें अलविदा कहने में इतना दर्द क्यों हैं 

गर्मी के मौसम में हवा इतनी सर्द क्यों हैं

इन दोनों सवालों के जवाब में तेरा ही नाम क्यों हैं 

तू साकी मैं पैमाना इतने नजदीक होने के बावजूद ये दिल अधूरा जाम क्यों हैं

तुम्हें अलविदा कहने में इतना दर्द क्यों हैं

मालूम हैं ...मालूम हैं 

कि दूरियां भी है जरूरी सहनी पड़ेगी ये मजबूरी 

ताकि कल जब वापस वही सुबह आए तो 

मैं और तुम करेंगे यह अधूरी बात पूरी मालूम हैं  

पर यह नजदीक लाने के लिए हमारे बीच अंतरों का हिसाब क्यों हैं

 जिस मुकाबले का मैं हिस्सा तक नहीं 

उसी का मिलता यह खिताब क्यों  हैं

तुम्हें अलविदा कहने में इतना दर्द क्यों है 

माना कि मांझी के घाव भरने में वक्त लगता हैं 

आगे बढ़ाया हुआ हर वो कदम सख्त लगता हैं 

आंखों से निकलते हुए आंसू जलता हुआ रक्त लगता हैं

और किसीका इतना जल्दी जिंदगी में अपना बन जाना बड़ा बेवक्त लगता  हैं

 माना... माना 

लेकिन खुदा सुनने में देर ही लगाता हैं इस बात का तुम्हें भर्म क्यों हैं

किसी और के नापाक इरादों की सजा भरता मेरा ये कर्म क्यों हैं

हर हालात में सक्ती रखते ये हाथ आज नर्म क्यों हैं 

और

वापस से ईश्क हुआ तो इस बात को मानने में इतनी शर्म क्यों हैं

तुम्हें अलविदा कहने में इतना दर्द क्यों हैं 

गर्मी के मौसम में हवा इतनी सर्द क्यों हैं 

 इन दोनों सवालों के जवाब में तेरा ही नाम क्यों हैं  

तू साकी मैं पैमाना इतने नजदीक होने के बावजूद ये दिल अधूरा जाम क्यों हैं

तुम प्यार के काबिल थीं और रहोगी

पहले शायद मेरी नहीं थीं पर अब हमेशा रहोगी !

ANGEL OF DEATH

Usually, alcoholism is a very bad addiction.

But sometimes, life puts us in such ordeals that escaping feels like the best option.

So one day, while i was sitting in a bar, i ended up meeting the angel of death.

But the angel of death doesn't look as scary as people make him sound.

He is an old man, with  bright face, eyes full of tears and wrinkles on this cheeks.

But he still is the angel of death.

So initially, i was scared to sit beside him, fearing that my time to go had come.

Then hesitantly i asked, "Whose time has ended that  you have come here?"

He smiled and answered, "For sometime, nobody's time has ended, that's why i am here."

All my fear was now gone, so i directly asked him that.

"You're the angel of death, that everyone fears.

When you come a bit close, everyone remembers god "but how do you feel?"

He kept quiet for a moment and then said, "Why is everyone grateful for the gift of life when it comes "but when i free a soul from this world i never receive any love?"

"My backbone breaks every time i lift a body, God comes to me, cures me and my backbone

"i tell god that i could live with a broken back but please give this job to someone else"

"But what can God do, when nobody else is ready to do this job?"

"I am unable to sleep, I get nightmares of all those families whose loved ones i took from them

"they abuse me and curse me, even while mourning they are angry at me"

"I wish i could show all those families, that their loved ones are happy here."

"But God doesn't give me permission to do that either."

"Sometimes i wish, that death comes to me as well, but then, who will free my soul?"

I felt really bad for him.

Someone might have done this for the first time, I invited the angel of death to my own house.

I said to him, "Come take rest at my place"

"You might many funerals to visit tomorrow"

EK LADKI KO DEKHA TO ESA LAGA

She is the soul of the party and a divine poem.

She has an adorable grace and her modestry is immense.

She is as soft as a flower and her eyes glitter like lightning.

Her deadly looks can cut across all borders and break open all restrictions.

She has such fearlessness and such daring.

Her hair are like the clouds that precipitate.

While her eyebrows are bent, her eyes are full of joy & life.

When her messy hair touches her cheeks, all the mirrors in the world are left startled.

The nervous strands of hair stuck in her garland, take rest behind her ears.

The borders of her eyes are full of dark kohl.

Her cheeks are like the delicate flowers, her smille is as magical as life itself.

The sweet beauty of her face ends on her lips.

Her body is fresh and glowing from head to toe.

The curves of her figure make everyone restless.

The way she walks makes everyone go weak in the knees.

Her innocence is inviting for love.

Her colour is as bright as the sunlight.

Her manners are like a butterfly and her forehead gleams.

No metaphors can be enough for me to define her charisma.

We have never witnessed someone so gorgeous

After seeing her, my heart said, 

"Afreen Afreen, Afreen Afreen." 

THOSE MISSING FACES

Those faces aren't related to me in any certain way

but yet those faces stare at me every single day

amidst crowded station, streets and neighbourhoods

while walking down these very paths I stumble upon coloured posters

which make me stand and stare

The details in these posters make my mind go slow 

the faces are similar to some people that I know

age 10 years old,curly hair, resembles an angel,

or an old man who looks like my dear father

and below that there is a date so pressing,

telling us about those who have gone missing

As soon as I complete my daily travels 

from home to office and back home

with hope i then memorise these

faces as if they were a poem

that maybe while walking on streets or stations

the hopes of those families don't die in vain

that maybe that Mr.Solanki,or that Gita,

or that Saif will be found again

I'll take to their parents, their children, their wives

I'll give them back their own old lives

maybe because, with those families i can empathise

I may not have lost a loved one, but I have lost many dear lives

but at least I had that sense of satisfaction,

that they wouldn't come back from where they were

and those who didn't get the chance to rest in peace,

families unaware if they are still alive or deceased

every morning for the good health of their loved ones they pray

unaware if they will never come back or return home today

Mr.Solanki had gone for his evening walk,

he had a bad memory, but knew his way back home

Girish and Mukesh too knew all the roads in Dehli

Jhilmil, who didn't know her in the neighbourhood,

Gita, fought with her hudband but was found later on

Saif, could not speak, but his mother listened to him

so that he never felt neglected

and even before it was winter, 

his favourite sweater was selected

they say that in the city nothing is ever repeating,

but none of those faces were seen that evening

for their well being, even priests were paid

and in phone books and contacts searches were made 

to find them, their families set out

to stations and streets with eyes blinking

Girish's father with a poster in his hand,

Saif's mother with a sweater, were thinking

maybe they have upsetted a god of theirs,

and that's why the poster they put up was ignored by us

We're busy in our own lives at such times,

but someone is patiently waiting for some sighs

I wish that our destinies were embraced,

I wish that our mind stored each & every face 

maybe then, the little kid outside Haji Ali Dargah

who was forcing you for biscuits and tea

or that old man outside a temple who called 

every second person his friend or his family

the man in the station who was asking his own address,

or that kid in the train who wiped seats in distress

the bride with a suitcase in hurry to reach someplace,

or that girl who didn't belong in this woman's embrace 

At the time, we were all present right there,

what if these people were those faces that were now rare

I know my words aren't sharp enough to hurt,

and I know you don't have any time to exert

but I request, the next time you see such a poster,

go through it once and get a bit closer

they will like that even with little time to spare,

people stood and read about them with care

who knows with our efforts searching their traces,

we could take back those faces,those missing faces.

ESTIMATED 1,00,000 CHILDREN ARRIVE EVERY YEAR ON 60 MAJOR RAILWAY STATIONS OF INDIA. 

ONLY 35,000 OF THEM ARE RESCUED.

MANOHAR KAHANIYAAN

Aaj kal jo bhi dekhne ka mann karta hain

dekh lete hain badi asaani se

Online stream ho gayi hain kahaniyaan

4G ki meherbaani se

ab kuch dekhne ki bebasi ho,

toh use offload ker liya karte hain

humein jo dekhne ka waqt na ho,

use download kar liya karte hain

par in saari sahuliyat se door

ek aisa daur bhi hua karta tha

jab internet ko dekhne ka maza kuch or hi hua karta tha

ye woh daur tha jab kitaabon ke aakhri panne per

'loves me ,loves me not' likh ker parakh liya karte the

aur Doordarshan ki aad mein,

fashion TV dekh liya karte the

Tab,

web series mein ulajhe hi nhin the

Human biology samajhe nhin the

jab desi masala ka jaadu

online ki duniya mein bika hi nahin tha

jab badmashiyaan sikhane waala

Naughty amrika bhi nahi tha

Tab le jaate kuch CDs ko lapet kar

akhbaar mein doston ki demand par

aur mil jaati thi kuch kahaniyaan kitaabon ki shakl mein

railway stall ya bus stand par

jinhe padh kar daudti thi nas nas mein ravaniyaan

jinke kahaniyon mein suspense aur title mein hairaniyan

jinke panno mein qaid hain

ladakpan ki nishaniyaan

yeh netflix wali janta kya hi samajh payegi

dil pe kya keher dhaati thi manohar kahaniyaan

Mujhe aaj bhi yaad hain

New Dehli station ka von manzar

kaanp rahe the jism 4 sweateron ke andar

Waiting room se toh bas pariyaan nikal rahin thi

mujhe lag raha tha ke unmein se koi thi jo mujhe dekh rahin thi

khair padhne ke liye uss din ki khabrein

pahunch gya railway stall ke paas

aur achanak se chodharyji ne kitaab pakda kar mujhe kaha

"beta ise padhna. Ise padhke milega

sardiyon mein garmiyon ka ehsaas."

kya hain ki unko lag raha tha ki

unhone kisi batke hue naujawan ka mann rakha tha

mere keel munhase bata rahe the ki

mene abhi abhi jawani ki dehleez par kadam rakha tha

 Chodharyji ne samjhaya

ki achche logon ke vichaar toh

Iss kitaab ke saanche mein dhalte nahin hain

Aur jo Manohar Kahaniyaan padhte hain woh

bahut der tak baathroom se nikalte nahin hain

bas, phir kya tha

sweater ki aad mein humne bheed se kattna shuru kiya

Waiting room ke baathroom mein

baithkar jab panne palatna shuru kiya.....toh Offo!

Kya kya kahaniyaan thi

kaun mehfil mein aisi baatein bole

pehli hi kahani ka shirshak tha

'kya hota hain jab jawaan dewar bhabhi ki gaanthein khole'

kya hain na ki tab mujhe pata chala ki kis tarah se title hi de kar

pdhne waale ko shock kiya jaata hain

Bhabhi nahin, koi password hain jisse unlock kiya jaata hain

Aisi kahaniyaan jinko padh kar

 soya raat bhar nahin tha

Agli kahani naukar ne likhi thi

'uss raat jab maalik ghar par nahin the'

jab maalkin ne mohan se kaha ki

"Ab na humein bebas karo"

Aur ghadi ke kaante keh rahe the

"Hadh ho gayi KUMAR bas karo"

kyunki December ke mahine mein

jaise mann ko geela saawan mila

Agli kahani thi jab

"Sonam ko naya saajn mila"

Har dusre panne pe aawaaz thi

uff! ayr Aah! ki

par darwaze se koi andar na aa jaye

darwaze par nigaah thi

jab mujhe laga ki ufaan pe

dilon mein jazbaaton ke bawandar aa gaye

tab achanak darwaza khula

aur papa andar aa gaye

Tab aisa laga ki kisi gumshuda hotel per

jaise police ki dhaad padi

Zindgi bhar yaad rahegi

belt, joote aur thappad se mujhe itni maar padi

Phir toh main aise baahar nikla jaise thappad toh door

ki baat kisi ne mujhe chhua tak nahi tha

Hawas ki nigaahon pe sharafat ka chashma pehna

jaise kuch hua hi nahi tha

par papa nazar nahin aa rahe the

bheed se nadaarad the

jisse main pandit samajh baitha tha

woh toh kisi aur hi kala mein vishaarad tha

yaani ki ab tak jo sanskaaron ka hawala de kar

 mujhse ladd rahe tha

wohi 12(bhaarvi) pareeksha ki kitaab ki aad mein

manohar ki kahani padh raha tha

jab unhein laga ki munsif khud

kathghare mein ghir chuka hain

Tab sakpakaate hue bole ki

"main toh yeh dekh raha tha ki tu

kis hadh tak neeche gir chuka hain"

mujhe laga ki kudrat ne

karmon ke phal wala insaaf kiya

papa se mene kuch nhin kha

Dil hi dil ke andar maaf kiya

mujhe laga ki agar papa, aur hum sab ke papa

agar aisi kitaabon se rishta nibhate nahin

toh main aur mujh jaise kayi dost

waqt par duniya mein aate nahi

khair, aise mein yaatrigan ki duaaein

apna hi asar la gayin

achanak se 'Aravli Express' bhi platform 3 par aa gayi

Saari pariyaan waiting list room se nikal kar

seedhe mere hi dabbe mein agayi

Uske baad jo saamne waali sheet per baithi

toh kya nazaara tha huzoor

Usne dabi waaz mein kaha

"Aakhri kahani kaafi dilchasp hain, padhiyega zaroor."

kaafi difficult, kaafi asaan

Toh kabhi easy hoti hain

kaviyon ki kahani mein masala hota hain

kahani kaafi cheesy hoti hain

Har roz humein mil jaati hain zindagi mein aisi hairaniyaan

aur kabhi cheesy story sunne ka mann kare na

toh railway stall jaa kar padh lena

Manohar Kahaniyaan.

SAY MY NAME

             Children, draw circles on paper etch eyes, nose and ears around it greater the likeness to face, greater the joy. When I used to sketch something similar, I couldn't put the pencil down thinking, if the face indeed was mine after some deliberation, I would draw a smaller circle over the larger circle of the face and mutter to myself, now this...This is me. I never stopped wondering, though, why I never had a loose hairdo or others had a bun it used to be an act of courage sharing that sketch with people who, in every class break, would point to it asking if it were an apple, an orange or an onion or a potato it felt like an act of courage it's not daggers or pistols that are scary, sometimes. Just words, shapeless, formless words but pointed words that stab and scrape and peel I remember, people at school, college, wherever addressing me, not by name but with an innocuous smile that accompanied "Paaji", "Paape", or "Gyaani" I used to smile back never knowing how to express what I felt sometimes, an unbearable embarrassment and some other times, an intense, scorching rage for so many years, and I guess to the present day I have been trying to wrap my head around why has my hair started to means more than my name why has the way I look  become so integral to who I am I often used to think, why I never used"O, Pandit", or "O, Khan Sahab" as salutations. I tried, in fact, and it felt inappropriate. When I could feel this way, why not them who wouldn't call me by my name perhaps, my father or grandfather never cared enough. But I do. Baba used to say Sardar means a leader, the head of a communitybut I have seen derision far too many times to not be able to identify that "sardar" baba meant and "sardarji" that people mean are as similar as chalk and cheese. Sometimes, I laugh and say to myself that Pakistan was far and elusive I found hostilities in my own classmates or that bus conductor who, with his harmless wit wrapped around "Paaji" singularly felled me every time I tried to get up while my bones never broke my confidence splintered every single time and this spectacle continues like clockwork until I myself start believing that I am not "them" Mukesh is Mukesh, Sameer, Sameer and I have Transmogrified into "Paaji".

Those 12'o clock jokes well, sometimes even I used to laugh sitting by the clock sometimes waiting for something to happen to me, really. People don't get to choose what color, who they are born as those that think they can see everything are the ones who are blind today, I may feel that I have risen above this "quibble" but not to be addressed by my name still feels suffocating it feels as if my rightful share of oxygen has been cut off it's a collective failure of sorts. But it starts with myself. Instead of shying away from the faces I drew, I should have proudly proclaimed "This is me" embracing my identity who I am, what I am. Fighting our shame, is often the biggest war we wage and winning it, is our biggest triumph.

PAPPU PAPA AND CYCLE

 One morning papa came, woke me up and said.

  " Pappu, I am going to teach you  how to ride a cycle today"

   Even the sun hadn't yet opened his eyes

    and I had slept late watching cartoons

So i said what any other child would have said

"Okay Papa".

The moment I stepped out, A brand-new cycle awaited me 

When I saw it, my innocent mind started jumping up and down

But as I noticed the absence of training wheels,

my excitement came to a standstill.

A fear arose in my pulse that my dad sensed,

so he said, "I'am right here,son"

So on the small seat of that small cycle,

 I placed my small bum

Pushed down on the peddles, the wheels started

turning and staggering, my cycle moved forward

I was happy but dad kept directing me,

"Keep the handle straight.."

"..Why is the cycle moving towards right???

  Don't stop peddling, be careful, you'll fall"

Ugh! Who makes someone do so much exercise

on the first day!?

But dad made me do this exercise daily,

then suddenly one day my cycle stopped staggering

Joyfully, I wanted to turn around and tell him,

"Look dad, I've learnt how to cycle."

But the moment I turned around,

I saw that my dad was standing far behind me

Seeing him so far away, scared me and the fear 

made my cycle swerve and stagger again

And for the very first time, 

I fell down.

And my bum which was earlier well placed on the seat,

was now flat on the ground.

My dad come running, gave me a smile,

picked me up and took me back home.

But somehow, from that day on,

A weird tradition of me falling down had started

Because the moment my

cycle stopped staggering, I...

But by the time my eyes were on the road again, 

I found my self lying on it.

Then one day I made a decision

that I will get over my fear

So I started riding my cycle at great speed,

my dad kept screaming from behind,

"Son, you are going too fast, slow down,

look, there is a pothole ahead of you..

"..You will crash into someone"

But all of my dad's advice, had somehow

vanished in the face of this speed

The still wind, had suddenly started kissing me,

I had started to fall in love with this speed

But then all of a sudden,

my feet slipped from the pedal

My cycle slipped and 

I came crashing down to the ground

And for the first time, I wept and my knees bled,

but what was really injured was my pride

Dad came running towards me, he picked me up,

without smiling this time

He took me home and said,

"Don't ride the cycle tomorrow."

But now I wanted 

to ride the cycle

Because untill yesterday, I was falling because of my fear

But today I fell because of my foolishness

And the one thing that 

I know was that

You can fight your fear but if you do not correct

your foolishness, repeating it becomes a habit

So the next morning I got up before the sun,

took my cycle off the stand, and rode it for miles

Took a turn and come back 

home, without falling

This morning I was the one who woke up dad,

narrated the story with a lot of happiness

And in the end, I said,

"Look dad, I have learnt cycling."

Dad smiled and said...

"Son, you've not only learnt cycling but

you've also learnt how to walk on the road of life."

He told me how the handle was our focus,

the pedal our hard work

This moving cycle was the success

which was moving on a road called life

He made me understand that,

Many a times I'll fall because of the speed of my pride

and the potholes of relationships

But I'll have to get up, 

make the cycle stand again

And continue my journey

until death comes my way