The Khushi's Pen

Segregation has always been a culture since times immemorial. Inscribing tags and imbibing numbers on people.  It starts right from the preliminary years, from the birth cradle to the walls of school. Roll Numbers outgrow these walls into numbers with genres! Numbers with a menu card- Waist Size Numbers, Refugee Numbers, Non-Identical Identification Numbers and what not!  "We are not numbers, we are Human Beings. And, we all have stories."  And, that's an err humans interweave misinterpretations with. Folks and folks cannot be painted by a common brush. Every stroke is different, non identical. Then afterall we are Humans, not 'numbers'. Or is it that the classification of people into number biases makes the society a bit more homogeneous? No, I don't think so. Every individual is graceful and worthy enough to be admired for the qualities it possess, then why does the need to cover the masks of negligence on our visages arises?  You are not an err, you were de

- a step towards equating the status of animals at par to humans.  Mahatma Gandhi once quoted, "The greatness of a nation and its moral progress can be judged by the way its animals are treated." How aptly does this saying juts in today's scenario wherein people tend to witness the zen level bloodshed, rage and inhuman dearth. Imagine how cruel it would be if we kill our younger ones before birth?  Animals are mortal beings, not non-livings. Akin to humans, they also possess a body, organs, life, and vitally emotions! (Prolly, more than Humans, I muse sometimes). Animals are an integral part of this gigantic puzzle, called, 'World'. And, inflicting brutality on them will devoid our puzzle of its essential element. "Unhewn bits of any act whether Bravery or Novelty does not heed any penny, rather reciprocates into an enemy."  We, humans are ensnared into leading a life, wherein people tend to buy showcases. Oh, sorry, my folly 'pets'. But, isn'

I sit by the window pane, To watch the dewdrops drain. Aroused by the sound the guitar strings make meanwhile, Cacophony for some while a melodious tune wrapped in bewitching bewildered for a musicophile. Not a melomaniac, but crystally an adorer, Music lifts up thy mood in a hover. And, as the monsoon wraps by, And its Autumn to shed, I start to stir the window pane down, For until it's next monsoon rep.