Perceptive Scare!!

It was my first time travel to Europe and more so to fashion and cultural hub, Paris. As usual a lot of my friends had given me a cautious warning about the thugs and petty thief prevalent in Paris, more so you are all alone there...

"Be careful about your passport and money"

Oh boy!! I was almost clutching and checking on my pockets for my passport and purse the moment I landed at CDG airport. Felt being foolish and stupid doing that... Anyway, the tape recorded had started playing and I was dancing to its tune. I found out about the metro and got in. The moment I sat down, it seemed everyone was waiting to snatch my little money and the passport. As the train chugged along, I was distracted by the beauty of the nature outside and i stopped playing the record. But with every stop, it would come back.. "Do you see that white guy looking like a thug?? That black guy, that asian.. oh boy!!"..

As the train stopped at "Gard du Nord", I stepped out with my luggage and tried to talk to someone, who outright said, "No English" and I lost in French translation.. blinking.. Someone, spoke to the cops and made my way out of the station. As I stepped out, I felt I was back in India, with the litter and beggars stretched out. I held my luggage tighter after zipping up my jacket... I even avoided making an eye contact with any one, till I realised that my GPS was out and what worked was only the map that I had printed out with the route.. But, "Which is north and east, the paper could not move like a compass".. Grr, Sid... take hold of yourself and ask!!" That seemed to have woken me up somewhere, and I started asking every passerby... after some five attempts one guy seemed to know english and he helped me... I literally started running through the deserted lanes... the words kept coming back again... "Your PASSPORT, your MONEY"... After running for close to 1 1/2 kms, I reached the nearby metro close to the hotel I was to check in. And that place was swarming with people who were trying to sell cigarettes to things that seemed inappropriate.. Couple of them approached and I ran as if I was on a mission of being invisible and not to be traced.

Well somehow I managed to reach my hotel and once in the room, took stock of what had happened and why?? That late evening I again stepped out and just wandered around the streets. Realised that

• I was over-reacting. Yes I needed to be guarded but not to the extent of panicking. I was asking for more trouble.
• I lost out on enjoying the space around me and the beauty of the place. I had some moroccan food that evening that I did not even notice.
• While returning back, I realised how beautiful Gard du Nord station was. I paused and took some pics, soaked in the beauty and walked towards my train to CDG.. 
• I have a choice of saying no, taking action rather than playing simply to the tune of my head, which seems looking for trouble rather than looking for some beauty around.

I must say that, I really learnt the choice that day and it helped me in the next few days that I stayed and roamed around the place.. It is amazing!!! more was the Choice of clearing the Perceptive scare.... :)

खुली किताब

केहता रहा सबसे ।
खुली किताब सा हूँ मैं ॥

पर वज़न इतना।
की उठा नहीं सकता कोई॥

कोरे से कागज़ पे।
सफेद स्याही से लिखा हूँ अपना कच्चा चिट्टा॥

अल्फ़ाज़ इतने उल्झे ।
कोई इक कड़ी भी समझ न पाए कोई ॥

चाहता हूँ बार, समझे कोई ।
पर हर कोशिश पे, अपने ही सन्नाटे में सेहम सा जाता हू।

असर इतना खुदी पे।
की हर कोशिश पे, खुद ही सील देता हूँ खुद को ॥

 ऊमीदे की लहर है,  बदलेगी मेरी सोच।
खुदी को खुद ही समझ लूँ में कभी॥

Vice

How hard I try to stay away from a vice, i am back working with it.  The harder I think to be away from it, the closer I seem to get.

On the contrary, when I am onto something new, I tend to forget anbout it and I am at peace untill I realize that I am missing something in my life. It may sound so funny but the reality is that I do not have to try too hard.  It is a part of life. 

So the question that I tend to ask is, so what is a vice?? Is it something that I spend most of the time and at the end get nothing out of it apart from off course the guilt of doing the vice. But I do accept that at the end of this nothingness I am left with s hollow guilt for which I may tend to hate myself.

The most amazing part that in spite of knowing all this... I still end of being a slave to the vice. Oh man!!!

Now let me stop worrying and start something new...

The Crossroads

The crossroads, I go by
Seem like a churn in the ocean
Making me wonder, which way to go
The turbulence I feel, is so much for me to wonder

The choices I make,
Are for me to carry…
The burden of failure
Is for me to wonder
I pause at the crossroad, and feel the churn

I laugh, I cry and I go dry
where to go and I wonder
The options are many,
But, I can think of none
At every crossroad, I feel the churn

The only option, that I miss
is to look back and run
to my old comfort from where I come
I urge to move and make one more choice,
But, at every crossroad, there is a churn