THE JOURNEY

The warm afternoon breeze whispered in my ears…
The days were passing so slow… each one felt like many years…
I was walking through a desert, hot and arid…
No water in sight… The thought of survival made me worried…

I wanted to go where no one dared to venture…
A path so far fetched, each step was an apprehensive adventure…
My throat ached with thirst… My heart longed for oxygen…
“This is just a passing phase”; I thought… “There will be a change in this season”…

As I continued to walk… in search of my destiny…
I lived a hundred lives… each ending in a mutiny…
My thoughts screamed loud… echoing in my own ears…
I wanted to shed my inhibitions… I wanted to get rid of my fears…

The breeze turned cold… I realized it was getting dark…
Time sped by… Life stood still and stark…
The journey was getting hectic… I had to stop for the night…
As I reclined in the obsolete sand… just hoped that the next day would be bright…

It was this hope… that kept the journey going…
Wounded, tired was my heart… of all the pains and longing…
How hard I wished that this journey would end…
How hard I wished that I could make minds bend…

A question that shouldnt be asked

As I was walking down a silent alley at the back of my house, i was thinking about whether Mr. Ashutosh Gowariker(a noted filmmaker) would reply to my emails, (I happen to be a not-so-noted, filmmaker). As thoughts about Mr. Gowariker flooded my mind, I was hoping that someday, someone in some back alley would be walking, thinking whether NIKHIL MAHAJAN, (i dont intend to sound BOASTFUL) would reply to his/her email.

But then I thought, how can I be so sure of my prospects as a filmmaker or whatever?
How can I even guarantee whether my very presence would be existant tomorrow...?
Well, a thought struck... There is no guarantee whether we will be alive tomorrow, whether we will reach home, safe and sound in the evening, whether we will be able to realise our dreams, whether we will be able to sleep at night to dream in the first place?

I am sorry if this seemingly philosophical (and outrageously boring) post is frustrating your brains, but then I thought, Why do we dream, If we are not sure we will be alive to realise them...?

After a lot of thought led me to a seemingly simple solution...
Some questions are not meant to be asked... Some things are meant to be felt...
Dreams are made of these... these things... which are felt... not seen, not heard, not talked about... just felt.

And then I realised... The question that led me to this theory, falls in the same category...

WILL ASHUTOSH GOWARIKER REPLY MY EMAIL?

Well it is a question I shouldnt have asked myself...

Phew!!! An Exasperating Start!!!

I never had imagined that creating a blog would be so difficult... Now people, i know you guys might not have wasted two important hours of your lives creating, actually trying to create a blog. But then Me, a computer engineering student, wannabe filmmaker and a more wannabe blogger... ought to get confused...

But then with a bit of help... I finally managed to make something... That is called a blog.

A dial up connection, 2 hrs.... with grandma desperately trying to call her travel agent (What for? She knows the best)... This was... I must say....

Phew! An Exasperating Start.