Aasmaan neela ho ya peela ...

Just found my old diary in which I wrote this article , many years back in January 1997 . Probably I was less of a pessimist that time :) Loved reading it and so am sharing it with you .

                                I am .

" But what am I ? 
   An infant crying at the night .
   An infant crying for the light .
   And with no language but a cry ! "

            Many a times these lines by Tennyson appear so very meaningful . A simple question that has roused itself again and again in my consciousness is ' What am I ? ' Am I just a name , a tiny dot in this big , wide , mysterious world , existing without anything like a design or purpose !

For Heart's sake .

" For art's sake I would not face the toil of writing a sentence ."
                                                    - Bernard Shaw . 
There was a time when I completely disagreed with this statement, though I am an ardent admirer of Shaw's crisp and undiluted wit !! To me writing was a form of release . Its only use was to pour out my frustrations , pains and confusions ....emotions which tend to make you bitter and you can't share them with any one . Till you smile, people will smile at you ; but the moment you shed a tear , they will laugh at you .So in my growing up years writing saved me from being a bitter and rebellious teenager . And....that was all .