Everyday is just another day or probably it is not and like everyday I, like many out there, hurried to work with a my hair rolled up in a tight bun. Yes, it was just another day, just another day …

Source: and the Bugle was heard again..

Everyday is just another day or probably it is not and like everyday I, like many out there, hurried to work with a my hair rolled up in a tight bun. Yes, it was just another day, just another day of many out there, like me .. but probably not just another day for the souls who were lost in the war.

Today is Remembrance Day, here in England, where I stay. All observed a two minutes silence as a mark of respect to who were lost in the fierce battles of WW1 (any battle), I heard the bugle. I heard a tune which was very familiar to me, The Last Post.  For some reason, unknown to me it send shivers down my spine. The Bugle spoke to me again after many years.

The Bugle has had many meanings for me since I grew up as a proud daughter of man who served the Indian Army all his life. The bugle signalled me war, the bugle whispered me half mast as if the Flag was sad and, a very sad connotation for numerous innocent souls lost, the bugle has always spoken to me volumes, the Last Post on the bugle has always meant ‘something has ended’.

End, where is the end? As Plato ones said ‘ Only the dead have seen the end of war’. For some there is no end to war, for some the war ends but there is no closure. The Bugle tells me, that there is no closure. No Closure, whatsoever, because all wars are meant to end all wars, but they don’t. That is what the humble bugle reminds
me off. No Closure, because the end is always near for those who survived, or were survived by loved ones.  When I see my flag unfurled that is when the Bugle plays in my mind, it plays The Last Post because I never forget those who were lost, just, so that we could see the flag unfurl, free against the sky.

The Remembrance Day shall pass and I, like  many others, will get back to being what I am. A girl rushing to work, her long hair rolled up in tight bun. The Flag shall always stay, standing tall, unfurled probably making everyday feel like Remembrance day, soulful bugle will keep reminding of those who gave us and made us what we are today, Free. Lest we Forget!

She stared out into the Infinity..

She started out into the infinity

Hoping to seek answers from the stars

Which, twinkle just like her two eyes.

She started out into the Infinity..

Seeking the placidness from the moon

Which, glows just like her face in love..

She started out into the Infinity..

Asking a million questions to the vast Galaxy,

Which, accommodates all, just her mighty heart..

She started out into the Infinity..

Pleading to the clouds to clear off

Which, for long have blocked her vision

She started out into the Infinity..

Forgiving, the numbness of a silent night sky

This creates loud banging noises in her mind.

The Infinity does not seem to answer,

The Infinity, although has the answers,

Which, she cannot find..

This is a small Tribute to Princess Diana, the Princess of Wales, who tragically passed away in 1997. The candle has burned out  but it still seems to light us.

The outsiders failed to understand the concept of the arranged marriage in the era of free love.. The foreigners found it extremely strange for parents choosing a spouse… I was also blamed of being lazy and of not doing my “job” well… 

The idea of this write up some to my mind when I was trying to roll back and on the affairs and flings I had or my friends did… I found love in a “hopeless” place… I found love in the arms of a stranger, whom I never met before marriage… 

The initial phases were strangely excellent where two friends seemed to have met… Love grew and continues to grow day by day.. It nurtures .. Ones in this you tend to love and hate at the same time!! 

Arranged marriage is the most beautiful affair I have ever had.. It is just underrated..  With time every beautiful song becomes “the person” ..  With time you feel it becomes the wine : with age it just gets better.. Being married to a stranger keeps my faith alive that love happens and can happen again..

For the believers of love, this is pure bliss… My arranged marriage affair is a beautiful one …
Keep the faith up… All the people in love …. And all the ones those who are broken….  Certainly there is this “certain” some one for you! 

Dear angry saviour, 

This letter is to find we’re you are in The pink of your moods and feeling absolutely glorious about your envisages 

 .

You have been extremely brave and courageous to have served the nation not only at wars but even when the country was battered by natural calamity.

 And communal riots……
You have recovered bodies from snow clad mountains and also of your own fellow mates! Isn’t a an easy task… 
The hot desert and the sub zero temperatures of the glacier didn’t stop you, but then, what stope you now? Why are you an interesting headline of the “breaking news”, well forgotten two days later.
Are you angry with your fellow citizens, who sit at home and watch you arrive, wrapped in the Tri- colour, unloaded from an Antonov, saluted at and the regiment war cry screeching the skies! 
Are you angry, that you deserved to be at the award functions in place of the politicians and Bollywood stars? Do you feel frustrated when a film star meets you at your bunker and dances, gets a “star” treatment but doesn’t remember your name maybe, when you, yourself become a star…..
I realise what you have given when I see my flag, free and unfurled… Come back angry saviour, the country will always need you!