College days

"College ke din"

Woh College ke din....

Kuch baate bhuli hui,
kuch pal beete hue,
Har galti ka ek naya bahana,
aur fir sabki nazar me aana,

Exam ki puri raat jagna,
fir bhi sawal dekhake sir khujlana,
Mauka mile to class bunk marna,
fir doston k sath canteen jana

USKI ek jhalak dekhane roj college jana,
usko dekhte dekhte attendance bhul jana,
Har pal hai naya sapna,
aaj jo tute fir bhi hai apna,

Ye college ke din,
In lamho me jindagi jee bhar ke jeena,
Yaad karke in palon ko,
Fir jindagi bhar muskurana

Woh College ke din.......!!!!!!

Stanford University

"A story of Stanford University"

A lady in a faded gingham dress and her husband, dressed in a homespun threadbare suit, stepped off the train in Boston, and walked timidly without an appointment into the president of Harvard’s outer office. The secretary could tell in a moment that such backwoods country folks had no business at Harvard and probably didn’t even deserve to be in Cambridge.  She frowned.

“We want to see the president,” the man said softly.

“He’ll be busy all day,” the secretary snapped.

“We’ll wait,” the lady replied.

For hours, the secretary ignored them, hoping that the couple would finally become discouraged and go away. They didn’t. And the secretary grew frustrated and finally decided to disturb the president, even though it was a chore she always regretted to do. “Maybe if they just see you for a few minutes, they’ll leave, “she told him. He sighed in exasperation and nodded. Someone of his importance obviously didn’t have the time to spend with them, but he detested gingham and homespun suits cluttering his office.

The president, stern-faced with dignity, strutted toward the couple.

The lady told him, “We had a son that attended Harvard for one year. He loved Harvard, and was very happy here. But about a year ago, he was accidentally killed. And my husband and I would like to erect a memorial to him somewhere on campus.”

The president wasn’t touched, he was shocked. “Madam,” he said gruffly, “we can’t put up a statue for every person who attended Harvard and died. If we did, this place would look like a cemetery.”

“Oh, no” the lady explained quickly, “we don’t want to erect a statue. We thought we would give a building to Harvard.”

The president rolled his eyes. He glanced at the gingham dress and homespun suit, then exclaimed, “A building!! Do you have any earthly idea how much a building costs? We have over seven and a half million dollars in the physical plant at Harvard!!”

For a moment the lady was silent. The president was pleased.  He could get rid of them now. The lady turned to her husband and said quietly, “Is that all it costs to start a university? Why don’t we just start our own?” Her husband nodded.

The president’s face wilted in confusion and bewilderment.

Mr. and Mrs. Leland Stanford walked away, traveling to Palo Alto, CA where they established the University that bears their name...a memorial to a son that Harvard no longer cared about.

A strange incidence

"A strange co-incidence"

Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.
John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.


Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960.


Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.
Both wives lost a child while living in the White House.


Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head.


Now it gets really weird.


Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy.
Kennedy's Secretary was named Lincoln.


Both were assassinated by Southerners.
Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson.


Andrew Johnson, who succeeded Lincoln, was born in 1808
Lyndon Johnson, who succeeded Kennedy, was born in 1908


John Wilkes Booth, who assassinated Lincoln, was born 1839
Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy, was born 1939


Both assassins were known by their three names.
Both names are composed of fifteen letters.

Now hang on to your seat !

Lincoln was shot at the theater named "Ford."
Kennedy was shot in a car called "Lincoln" made by "Ford."


Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.


And here's the "kicker":


A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe,
Maryland.

A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn
Monroe.

and Lincoln was shot in a theater and the assassin ran
to a warehouse.

Kennedy was shot from a warehouse and the assassin ran
to a theater.

Home sweet home

આંખ ઝબૂકે !

કેવી એની આંખ ઝબૂકે,

વાદળમાંથી વીજ ઝબૂકે,

જોટે ઊગી બીજ ઝબૂકે,

જાણે બે અંગાર ઝબૂકે,

હીરાના શણગાર ઝબૂકે,

જોગંદરની ઝાળ ઝબૂકે,

વીર તણી ઝંઝાળ ઝબૂકે,

ટમટમતી બે જ્યોત ઝબૂકે,

સામે ઊભું મોત ઝબૂકે !!!!!

"The Mother's Son"

I have a dream---a dreadful dream---

 A dream that is never done.
I watch a man go out of his mind,
  And he is My Mother's Son.

They pushed him into a Mental Home,
  And that is like the grave:
For they do not let you sleep upstairs,
  And you aren't allowed to shave.

And it was not disease or crime
  Which got him landed there,
But because They laid on My Mother's Son
  More than a man could bear.

What with noise, and fear of death,
  Waking, and wounds and cold,
They filled the Cup for My Mother's Son
  Fuller than it could hold.

They broke his body and his mind
  And yet They made him live,
And They asked more of My Mother's Son
  Than any man could give.

For, just because he had not died,
  Nor been discharged nor sick,
They dragged it out with My Mother's Son
  Longer than he could stick....

And no one knows when he'll get well --
  So, there he'll have to be:
 And, 'spite of the beard in the looking-glass,
   I know that man is me!

Night and thoughts

"Night and the train of thoughts"

The first word that comes to our mind when someone calls out night is ‘Dark’. Perceptions change from people to people, some consider it mystical, while some consider it merely a time to relax and sleep. And here I am writing this piece with nothing in mind, sitting on the rooftop, exploring various unseen, perhaps not, features of ’Night’.

Actually when there is nothing in your mind, you start to see and witness things differently, and that is perhaps the best part of a blank mind. There is something in this night that charms, attracts me. May it be its silent nature, its dark aura or its mystic connection which probably scares the shit out of me?

Beneath the shining stars, in the pale moonlight, enjoying the cool breeze, I am standing in one corner and thinking,” What should I write which is not written about ‘Night’?” In this cool breeze, I hear mild melodies of Wind-chimes and I witness trees swaying to and fro as if they are dancing to the tunes. Suddenly my focus shifts from on-going thoughts to some Canines barking foolishly on an endless road. Suddenly, God knows from where, I think of the endless road and somehow it seems identical to my future. After all, my future is also a journey of dreams, desires which need to be fulfilled, where there are no companions, where I have to travel along this ‘Endless’ road all by myself. As soon as I recall companions and night, all together at the same time, what I recall is the series of carefree night-outs, where roaming after midnight was like taking a tour of an isolated, vacant city, where, the feeling of fresh gush of wind through my hair was perhaps the best memory, where, I can savour the fun even with my eyes closed.

Suddenly my thoughts are interrupted by mild rain, and I throw a glance at my surroundings, noticing its dawn already and still I am so much engrossed in my thoughts. Leaving my thoughts aside, I enjoy the mild rain with its cologne i.e. the smell of fresh clay.

Light of dawn shines amidst the downpour .The ‘Night’ along with my, ‘Train of thoughts’ is over and so is my note!