I JUST WANT TO BE ME by Nivedita Sonak

Nivdita is a I yr (CS- A & B) student who first read this poem in one of the Pragmatic Communication sessions.

I’m a human being,
Who wants to fly on her own wings,
High, soaring high in the air through the rainbows,
Touching the sky without any fear and foes,
That is why,I want to be me,
Like a bird which is just set free.

Neither I want to be a replica,nor a clone,
To make my stand in this world alone,
My ego is low but dreams high,
With roots deep and fruit ripe,
So,I want to be me,
Like a growing tree.

I know my depth but wish not reveal,
I care not for others as I want myself to feel,
Deep in my thoughts,I explore some faults,
As a personof low stature,but of high cults,
But I want to be me,
Like a flowing sea.

Oh GOD! I want no more,
But just some vigour assured.
A strength to face this world like fire,
Where humanity is coiled up in an ugly attire.
Even then I want to be me,
Away from sins,under thy serenade beam.

Hope Is Like A Road in the Country: Amrita Sharma

(Image Courtsey: IMDB)

Amrita Sharma writes on her latest date with art, Hope and Kirsten Sheridan's August Rush (2007).

Hope is a beautiful word. Once we choose to hope, anything is possible. Hope is to desire as listening is to hearing. And I hope to be excused for trying to put Paulo Coelho's view in another way, that ,if one truly hopes for something the whole of nature conspires in order for him to get the thing. The late sequence of events has strengthened my belief in the word hope. My talks apart, for today I am here to tell the story of a kid whose life was nothing but hope itself. The Hope to follow the music that was concealed deep within but was yearning to be let out. And the Hope to see his Mommy and Papa. Or was it the one and the same thing??...It was this kid who could better understand the magic that those four alphabets come together to create...When he was big enough to open his eyes in an orphanage and to the world ,for which he had not more than little wisdom to tackle, and could just understand what the word mommy and papa means ,he hoped to see them. He hoped that he will be with them sometime...What more? He hoped to find music. He listened to music and played from within his soul and without an instrument to play!! The instinctive inclination wasn’t a wonder having been born to musician parents.......

......But the amazing part of the story lies in the way he finds hope and the way he finds music in every sound of nature. Then be it the rustle of the wind, the tinkling of wind chimes ,the whistling sound let out of a sigh, the blowing of horn, the tapping of feet, the swaying of trees, he found music every where, leave aside those created by a musical instrument!! Ask him how can he hear music, and this it what he has to say, its everywhere. Its in the wind, its in the air, its in the light, all you need to do is to open yourself out. All you need to do is to listen .He was too free form within to be put in a confinement and so expectedly one fine day he broke away from the orphanage to search for his parents and for the music out there which he was bereaved of Music seems to be overwhelming the word hope. But it has not. No sooner did he break free that he got in touch with conventional music. When he first placed his fingers on the strings of a guitar he left his guide spell bound with the astounding command of an eleven year old. When asked how he knew about music, pat came the reply, 'It’s the moon who told me to follow it and that is all I know...but I can listen to it all around me and within me'....Life has to be a combination of both ups and downs and this was no exception. Though he got in touch with music it wasn’t the place where he ought to be. Because here his love was being sold...but as I said, Hope can work wonders. It brought him to the place he belonged...to a church. Where music was not thought of as an object of sale but a revered art? If you are thinking by now that the child's second quest is abandoned, you are mistaken! In fact the whole nature was conspiring to get him to get his parents. Both of his unmarried and unfortunately separated parents who were still unaware of the existence of their son, accelerated their hope to be together. Yes, it was hope indeed which finally made the kid's mother aware that the inexplicable loss she felt all the way through was not out of no reason. Her son was still there and was alive ! And she had to find him. Though the mother had no clue , where she would find her child, she hoped to see him...

......Music was an indispensable part of the life of the three. Father, Mother and the kid. At one point of time the separation from each other, started separating them from their second love also: music. But that was not something they were destined for. So, destiny took a merry turn and they found their way back to music only to find one another and their beloved son performing in the music concert 'The August Rush' . One may call it a fairy tale as the sequence of events seems to be too much of mere coincidences, but I prefer to call it the miracle of HOPE. True...Hope is like a road in the country; there never was a road, but when many people walk on it …it comes into existence!!