स्वयं के धर्म को सर्वश्रेष्ठ कहने  से पहले दूसरों के धर्म को जानना भी आवश्यक है.
जिसे जानते ही नहीं उसपर टिप्पणी करना क्या मूर्खता नहीं ?
क्यों न बच्चों को स्कूलों में और घर पर भी हर धर्म के बारे में सीख दें और फिर ये उनपर छोड़ दें  की वे कौन सा धर्म अपनाना चाहते हैं. 
जन्म के आधार पर उनपर कोई भी धर्म थोप देना  क्या उचित है ?
हो सकता है की जब हम हर धर्म को जाने, समझे, तो धर्म के नाम पर होने वाली ये त्रासदियां बंद हो जाएं। हमारा देश (शायद विश्व भी ) सही मायने में सिक्यूलर (sickular) नहीं सेक्युलर (secular ) हो जाए.

The tragedy of Creative Minds!

Falling in love again :)

A book lover often falls in love with the characters. Sometimes these characters become friends, sometimes lover and sometimes you.

The most difficult are the times when you finish. Its like parting from a lover. It tears you apart.

But, even more disturbing part is when you go back to them. 

They don't make you feel the way they once did. There is nothing more or nothing less.

Suddenly the realisation dawns upon you, that they never existed. Its like getting cheated upon.

But, the hopeless lover you are, you move on... only to fall in love and feel the agony of separation yet again and again...

Interstellar effect !

Looking at the starlit sky she thought, that is what becomes of people who die, she will one day become one of those. But with a knot in her stomach she realized, she is just an infinitely miniscule part of a planet revolving around a star much smaller than the ones she spots every night. And suddenly the ridiculousness of every thing around dawns upon her.
The inconspicuousness of her existence, the fragility of what we deem permanent and the stupidity of our delusional perspectives.

At last they made love !!

She yearned for his touch, waited for him, allured him in different ways.

Sometimes she was in ornate patterns,sometimes she had a vintage look which he adored so much.

Another day she would be just plain, plain white.

But nothing seemed to catch his attention.

Though sometimes he did come close very close to her. But just stroked her and went away, disappointed.

And some days, he will come close look at her with lust in his eyes, touch her, caress her and suddenly will get agitated. He tried making love to her, but in vain.

He tried, but could only hurt her. All he was able to do was give her scars.

At last, he would just look at her lying at the corner of the room, life less, misshapen, but he just couldn't help it.

But, today was a different day, he came closer, took her in his arms and gave her all he had. Today she felt complete, their union gave a meaning to her life.

Today, after months of block the writer was able to pen down some words in the diary.

Today, Finally the pen and the diary made love and poetry was born.