Soul Mate..!

Having a 'Soul Mate' such a wonderful thought.....!!! we all must have been secretly longing for a soul mate in our life. And we keep on searching that in our relationships . But as we understood your soul mate need not be your husband or lover — a past life relation, a distant pen friend or an old crush may hold the key to your soul, here it discovers thru few example of incidents.

RAGINI folds the creased letter and glances into an auburn skyline. A poignant pause ensues. “The letter's from Adam Hill… he’s my soul mate,” she rushes to finish, catching her breath to add, “I don’t know if you’ll understand.” In the complex maze of urban humanity, a 30-yearold, married software geek is claiming a cosmic connection with an Australian mountaineer she’d met as a young woman of 20 on an exchange programme. “He’s much older and was engaged to his present wife when we met. On the night of our farewell, an Australian friend introduced us. Something unspoken transpired as we talked for the rest of the night,” says Ragini.

Ragini’s story is distinct as she remains physically distanced from her ‘soul mate’, “happily married” as she claims. “A lot of people are curious about my sexual equation with Adam. He completes me, he’s my twin soul and I feel closest to him,” she adds. Tarot card expert Sunita Menon explains, “We like to romanticise the concept of a soul mate as only one’s spouse or lover. But the soul has seven multiple births and you can share more than one soul mate in a lifetime. It could be anyone with whom you share a deep bonding, bordering on telepathy.”

Author Kunal Basu, whose poignant tale The Japanese Wife, explores the intimacy between a Bengali school teacher (Snehamoy) and a Japanese woman (Miyage) through love letters believes, “Twin souls have their own communication, even if others find it difficult to comprehend.” Menon narrates another surreal saga. “One of my clients loved a woman from another community with whom he couldn’t get married due to family pressure. Years later, he bumped into his ex at an airport and there was an instant spark. His wife, tired of his perfunctory attitude towards their marriage suddenly agreed to a divorce as he ended up with his ex,” says Menon. “It’s the playing out of a karmic connection. Sometimes, recognising your soul mate takes a fleeting second. At others, it may take years and numerous complications,” adds fellow tarot card reader Poonam Sethi.

Thirty-four-year-old oncologist Dr Krishna Reddy recalls how as a 23-yearold intern at a Coimbatore hospital he’d developed a ‘surreal intimacy’ with his first patient — an 18-year-old cancer patient Malati. “The pain of being unable to save her lasted till I resorted to past life regression which revealed that in my second life I was a woman whose daughter was brutally murdered. Every birth thereafter, I’d met her in some form as she came to me craving to be saved,” avers Dr Reddy.

Dr Yogesh Choudhary, director, Indian Institute of Hypnotherapy explains, “Twin souls are fragments of the same soul who inhabit two different bodies and encounter similar life experiences in diverse environments till they merge, before retiring to the spiritual realm.”

Be it a hurried brush past a stranger at a cafe, a sustained friendship, a heady love escapade or the pathos of a loved one lost — the soul continues to find its path back. Touching lives and living beings along its journey. From time to timelessness. Towards its mate — the keeper of its conscience.

So I wish all readers and friends who would able to find their soul mate in this journey of life...Good Luck!!

Whose Wallet Is This...????

A ticket collector in a train found an old worn our wallet in a compartment full of people. He looked inside to find out the name of its owner. There was no clue. All that there was in it was some money and a picture of Lord Krisna. He heltd it up and asked "who does this wallet belong to?"

An old man said."That's my wallet. Sir, please give it to me." The ticket collector said, "you will have to prove that it is yours only then I can hand it over to you." The old man, with a toothless smile, said."It has a picture of Lord Krishna in it."

The ticket collector said, "That's no proof, anyone can have a picture of krishna in his wallet." "What is special about that?" Why is your picture not there in it like most normal people?"

The old man took a deep breath and said, Let me tell you why my picture is not there in it. My father gave me this wallet when I was in school.I used to get small sum of pocket money then.I had kept the pictures of my parents in it.

"when I was a teenager I was greatly enamoured by my good looks. I removed my parent's picture and put in one of my own.I loved to see my own face and my thick black hair. Some years later, I got married. My wife was very beautiful and I loved her a lot.I replaced my picture in my wallet and put one of hers. I spent hours gazing at her pretty face.

"when my first child was born, my life started a new chapter. I shortened my working hours to play with my baby. I went late to work and returtned home early too. Obviously, my baby's picture occupied the prized position in my wallet."

The old man's eyes brimmed with tears as he went on. "My parents passed away many years ago. Last year my wife too left her mortal coil. My son, my only son is too busy with his family. He has no time to look after me.

"All that I had ever held so close to my heart is now far, far away from my reach. NOw I have put this picture of Krishna in my wallet. It is only now that I have realised that HE is the eternal companion. HE will never leave me. Alas ! If only I had realised this before. Had I had loved only LORD all these years, with the same intensity as I loved my family, I would not have been so lonely today!"

The ticket collector quietly gave the wallet to the old man. When the train stopped at the next station, he went to a book stall at the platform and asked the sales man. "do you have any pictures of GOD?" I need a small one to put in my wallet!"

Nothing lasts forever...our true forever companion is ourself only...and the ultimate solace one can have from God only...!!!

Behind Those Beautiful Eyes...!

Her eyes is being created amazingly. You should read about her life. Having those beautiful precious eyes doesn’t mean having a beautiful life.

Sharbat Gula, whose portrait was taken by Steve McCurry in a refugee camp in Peshawar Pakistan.As for Ms Sharbat Gula herself, upon seing every one says..what eyes! The beauty of her, is her, dusty tanned looking face, not groomed, showing the stories of her life, the hardship endured, at sucha young age, living through times when her parents were killed in an invasion, and then leaving her homeland crossing into Pukhtunkhwa, just days before the picture was shot.

During American war on Afganistan...in the shade of an open tent flap, photographer Steve McCurry immortalized the haunted eyes of a 12-year-old refugee in a camp on the Afghanistan-Pakistan border.The girl piercing green eyes, shocked with hints of blue and fear, gave away her story. Soviet helicopters destroyed her village and family, forcing her to make a two-week trek out of the perilous mountains of Afghanistan.

Source: National Geographic

Jai Hind...!!

In our day to day life most of us used to get irritated of even the slightest discomforts which we face and end up complicating and exaggerating about it to our capacity. Our tolerance and patience has gone down to such an extend that unknowingly we make our life more miserable... Many at times what we dont realise is what really is worth a complain.. Here is an article I happened to read recently which touced me deeply and helped to me to see life in a different perspective..So thought I would post it in my blog which may like many as I did..

Vinodh Pradhan was not a happy man. Even the plush comfort of the air-conditioned compartment of the Shatabdi express could not cool his frayed nerves. He was the Project Manager and still not entitled to air travel. It was not the prestige he sought, he had tried to reason with the admin person, it was the savings in time. As PM, he had so many things to do. He opened his case and took out the laptop, determined to put the time to some good use.

"Are you from the software industry sir," the man beside him was staring appreciatively at the laptop.

Vinodh glanced briefly and mumbled in affirmation, handling the laptop now with exaggerated care and importance as if it were an expensive car.

"You people have brought so much advancement to the country, Sir. Today everything is getting computerized."

"Thanks," smiled Vinodh, turning around to give the man a look.

He always found it difficult to resist appreciation. The man was young and well built like a sportsman. He looked simple and strangely out of place in that little lap of luxury like a small town boy in a prep school. He probably was a railway sportsman making the most of his free traveling pass.

"You people always amaze me," the man continued, "You sit in an office and write something on a computer and it does so many big things outside."

Vinodh smiled deprecatingly. Naiveness demanded reasoning not anger. "It is not as simple as that my friend. It is not just a question of writing a few lines. There is a lot of process that goes behind it."

For a moment, he was tempted to explain the entire Software Development Lifecycle but restrained himself to a single statement. "It is complex, very complex."

"It has to be. No wonder you people are so highly paid," came the reply.

This was not turning out as Vinodh had thought. A hint of belligerence crept into his so far affable, persuasive tone.

"Everyone just sees the money. No one sees the amount of hard work we have to put in". Indians have such a narrow concept of hard work. Just because we sit in an air-conditioned office, does not mean our brows do not sweat. You exercise the muscle; we exercise the mind and believe me that is no less taxing." He could see, he had the man where he wanted, and it was time to drive home the point.

"Let me give you an example. Take this train. The entire railway reservation system is computerized. You can book a train ticket between any two stations from any of the hundreds of computerized booking centres across the country. Thousands of transactions accessing a single database, at a time concurrently; data integrity, locking, data security. Do you understand the complexity in designing and coding such a system?"

The man was awestuck; quite like a child at a planetarium. This was something big and beyond his imagination. "You design and code such things."

"I used to," Vinodh paused for effect, "but now I am the Project Manager."

"Oh!" sighed the man, as if the storm had passed over, "so your life is easy now."

This was like the last straw for Vinodh. He retorted, "Oh come on, does life ever get easy as you go up the ladder. Responsibility only brings more work. Design and coding! That is the easier part. Now I do not do it, but I am responsible for it and believe me, that is far more stressful. My job is to get the work done in time and with the highest quality. To tell you about the pressures, there is the customer at one end, always changing his requirements, the user at the other, wanting something else, and your boss, always expecting you to have finished it yesterday."

Vinodh paused in his diatribe, his belligerence fading with self-realisation. What he had said, was not merely the outburst of a wronged man, it was the truth. And one need not get angry while defending the truth. "My friend," he concluded triumphantly, "you don't know what it is to be in the Line of Fire".

The man sat back in his chair, his eyes closed as if in realization. When he spoke after sometime, it was with a calm certainty that surprised Vinodh.

"I know sir, I know what it is to be in the Line of Fire." He was staring blankly, as if no passenger, no train existed, just a vast expanse of time.

"There were 30 of us when we were ordered to capture Point 4875 in t cover of the night. The enemy was firing from the top. There was no knowing where the next bullet was going to come from and for whom. In the morning when we finally hoisted the tricolour at the top only 4 of us were alive."

"You are a...?"

"I am Subedar Sushant from the 13 J&K Rifles on duty at Peak 4875 in Kargil. They tell me I have completed my term and can opt for a soft assignment. But, tell me sir, can one give up duty just because it makes life easier. On the dawn of that capture, one of my colleagues lay injured in the snow, open to enemy fire while we were hiding behind a bunker. It was my job to go and fetch that soldier to safety. But my captain sahib refused me permission and went ahead himself. He said that the first pledge he had taken as a Gentleman Cadet was to put the safety and welfare of the nation foremost followed by the safety and welfare of the men he commanded...his own personal safety came last, always and every time." "He was killed as he shielded and brought that injured soldier into the bunker. Every morning thereafter, as we stood guard, I could see him taking all those bullets, which were actually meant for me. I know sir....I know, what it is to be in the Line of Fire."

Vinodh looked at him in disbelief not sure of how to respond. Abruptly, he switched off the laptop. It seemed trivial, even insulting to edit a Word document in the presence of a man for whom valour and duty was a daily part of life; valour and sense of duty which he had so far attributed only to epical heroes.

The train slowed down as it pulled into the station, and Subedar Sushant picked up his bags to alight. "It was nice meeting you sir."

Vinodh fumbled with the handshake. This hand... had climbed mountains, pressed the trigger, and hoisted the tricolour. Suddenly, as if by impulse, he stood up at attention and his right hand went up in an impromptu salute. It was the least he felt he could do for the country.

The incident he narrated during the capture of Peak 4875 is a true incident during the Kargil war. Capt.Batra sacrificed his life while trying to save one of the men he commanded, as victory was within sight. For this and various other acts of bravery, he was awarded the Param Vir Chakra, the nation's highest military award.

'Live Humbly' ...There are many great people around us, let us learn that..!!!!

Why It Is So...?

Sometimes I wonder how different each one's life from one another yet the taste of tear is alike for everyone..Same way how different one person is from the other and yet all are so alike when dealing with similar situations.

"Break-ups" one of the most scary words. How it feels having no right on someone, who was all yours, just a while ago. Breaking up of relationships, trust, dreams, homes or anything, which was once build with a lot of love , respect & trust by two or more people. How much emotions they would have put into it, giving it a shape and then someday, due to something, it broke-up.

You never know, when someone would change. The person you met a year ago does not remain the same, a year later. Someone whom you had trusted and loved most at some point of time, becomes a stranger. Friends, you used to bank on heavily, fail to keep up the promise anymore. You can not talk to him/her, can not hug him/her, can not adore him/her, whenever you want..because he/she does not belong to you anymore. As if people are a part of property and your stake has ended in him/her.

Though, with time, people come out of all the traumas, but it certainly leaves an ugly scar, somewhere. They become a different person, either a rebel or an apprehensive forever. Either they refuse to accept any relation in their life.. or they become so much emotionally dependent, pushing themselves on the path of many more break-ups.

And who else can capture the essence of this agony than the great Gulzar.

"Haath chootein bhi to rishte nahi choda karte…
Waqt ki shaakh se lamhe nahi thoda karte,
Jisne pairon ke nishaan bhi nahi chode peeche,
Us musafir ka.. pata bhi nahi poocha karate,
Choot gaye yaar, na chooti yaari, maula.
Tune awaaz nahi dee kabhi mudh kar warna,
Hum kayee sadiyaan..
Tujhe ghoom ke dekha karte,
Haath choote bhi to rishte nahi choda karte... "

To My Love...On Valentine's Day...!

Red Roses were her favourite, her name was also Rose and every year her husband, sent them tied with pretty bows, but the year he died the roses were delivered to the door. The card said 'Be My Valentine' like all the years before each year he sent her roses and the note would always say I love you even more this year, than last year on this day. My love will always grow with every passing year so she knew this would be the last time that the roses would appear. She thought he ordered roses in advance before this day. Her loving husband did not know that he would pass away. He always liked to do things early, way before the time then if he got too busy, everything would work out fine. She trimmed the stems and placed them in a very special vase and sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face. She would sit for hours, in her husbands favourite chair while staring at his picture and the roses sitting there. A year went by and it was hard to live without her mate with loneliness and solitude, that had been her fate, then the very hour as with Valentines the year before the doorbell rang, and there were roses sitting by the door.!!!

She bought the roses in and then looked at them in shock and ran to get the telephone to call the florists shop. The owner answered as she asked him, if he would explain why would someone do this to her, causing so much painI know your husband passed away more than a year ago .The owner said I knew you'd call, I knew you'd want to know. The flowers you received today were paid for in advance. Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance. There is a standing order that I have on file down here and he has paid well in advance, you'll get them every year. There also is another thing that I think you should know. He wrote a special little card, he did this year to go. Should ever I should find out that he is no longer here that's the card that should be sent to you the following year. She thanked him and hung up the phone her tears now flowing hard her fingers shaking as she slowly reached to get the card inside. The card she saw that he had written her a note Then as she stared in total silence, and this is what he'd wrote..

Hello my love..

I know that it has been a year since I've been gone

I hope it hasn't been too hard for you to overcome

I know it must be lonely and the pain is very real

For if it was the other way I know how I would feel
The love we share made everything so beautiful in life

I love you more than words can say, you were the perfect wife
You were my friend and lover, you fulfilled my every need

I know it's only been a year but please try not to grieve
I want you to be happy, even when you shed your tears

That is why the roses will be sent to you for years
When you get these roses think of all the happiness

That we had together and how both of us were blessed
I know I've always loved you, and I know I always will

But my love you must go on, you have some living still
Please try to find some happiness while living out your days

I know that it's not easy, but I hope you'll find some ways
The roses will come every year and they will only stop

When your door's not answered when the florist stops to knock
He will come five times that day in case you have gone out

But after his last visit he will know without a doubt
To take the roses to the place where I've instructed him

And place the roses where we are together once again...

Rose, My Love......Happy Valentine's Day....!

A Memorable Date...!

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie.

She said I love you but I know there is one more woman who loves you more and would love to spend some time with you.

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

"What's wrong, are you well," she asked? My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be pleasant to be with you," I responded. " Just the two of us."
She thought about it for a moment, and then said, " I would like that very much."



That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed t hat she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary.

She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.

"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed, "she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting".



We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips.

"It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.

"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.

During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary, but catching up on recent events of each other's life. We talked so much that we missed the movie.

As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed.

"How was your dinner date ?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I did to do anything for her.

Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined.

An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife.

You will never know what that night meant for me. "I LOVE YOU, Son."