Fragile Lives

He was old now,

Time flew by somehow,

white hair,wrinkled skin

told a thousand stories hidden within

No one cared, no one bothered now,

You reap what you sow and how,

Once the shining uniform glittered bright,

Induced unspeakable brutal fright,

How a soldier merely obeyed the law,

Killing a thousand jews without a flaw.

Gyan Ban Thoughts - This 55 "ficto-real" story is written in the form of a poetry.Evil Klaas Faber, 88, looked like an ordinary old age pensioner. But his white hair and glasses hide a shocking past as a bloodthirsty killer who volunteered for Hitler's notorious SS party and a roving Gestapo death squad, Faber was sentenced to death after being convicted of war crimes in 1947. But his sentence was commuted to life imprisonment. Faber was one of the seven Nazi officers who escaped from Breda prison in Holland on Boxing Day 1952. Since then, Germany has rejected the demands by Britain and other countries to hand over Faber , listed as the fifth most-wanted Nazi fugitive.

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Return ... To Innocence

‘Just a few days more & Barbie would be gone’ mama said coldly.

‘Don’t worry I am there with you always' said little Lisa consoling.

Lisa looked up innocently and asked her mother ‘but at least will her hair grow back?’

Mamma could not bear this any longer and she silently sobbed in the corner of the room.

Lisa went into her own little world.

‘Just a few more days and I will have to leave’ said Barbie.

‘But why can’t you stay with me’ Lisa argued.

‘I will make sure your hair grows back Barbie and you will look beautiful just like before...’

Eight days later Lisa left Barbie doll in the hospital, never to return again.

Gyan Ban Thoughts - In the year 2000, approximately 256,000 children and adults around the world developed some form of leukemia, and 209,000 died from it. Hair loss,excessive bleeding, acute depression and fatigue are the most common Chemotherapy side effects.Family members are left in utter despair to see their child suffer endlessly every single day as they watch helplessly.

Hoping the pain would go away, but knowing it would also mean death.

In our daily materialistic lives,we keep running and become oblivious to things that don't affect us. At least ,let us take a moment to go visit a nearby hospital and help in cheering up their lives. It need not be monetary benefit, it could be a simple greeting card just to make them smile for that one moment - which I can promise, you will cherish forever.

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Finding Mary.

Warm teacups and napkins perfectly in place, waiting patiently.

Window curtains flowing and the food was warm.

She was alone when they found her.

With no sign of a forced entry nor a panic stricken exit.

Mary appeared exactly a month after it dissapeared….

without it’s crew.

Right in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Gyan Ban Thoughts - The Mary Celeste set sail around Nov 5,1872. About a month later it was found in the Atlantic Ocean unmanned and apparently abandoned, despite the fact that the weather was fine and her crew had been experienced and able crew.

The ship had been at sea for a month and had over six months' worth of food and water on board. The cargo was virtually untouched and the personal belongings of passengers and crew were still in place, including valuables. The crew was never seen or heard from again. Their disappearance is often cited as the greatest maritime mystery of all time.

Theories range from paranormal explanations involving hypothetical extraterrestrial to UFO abductions and even time travel. It remains a mystery till this day.

research source : wikipedia.

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Pensive

memories build

feelings balance

touched by time...

pain wanes

tears dry

touched by time...

looking back

turmoils rage

a salt statue...

melancholy sound

emotions profound

edge of cliff...

flying down

floating soul

reach the sky...

wonder why

drifted life

my pensive sky...

Gyan Ban Thoughts - be kind, you never know who's heart you touch and who's blessings you might need.

Each verse is for each stone in the picture.

One Single Impression.

Freedom

Still another 20 mins, to go.

The pulse was fast.He could hear the heart beat distinctively.It was not thudding anymore...it was pounding.A distinct sense of uneasiness had crept in. His senses are heightened. The scratch on the table with his finger nails in tense nervousness ,the noise is too loud , the ball point pen was piercing into his sweaty palm.

Yet he had to maintain calm.The look on his face needed to be non-descriptive.The pocket handkerchief was the only comfort.A fear of a massive failure grips him.There was no turning back now.He had to do it. After all the stakes were so high. He oscillated role playing from what he'd do if he screwed up to what he'd do if he succeeded. The mind was at a complete unrest.As he muttered under his breath he saw some people frowning at him from a distance as they passed by and some looked at him suspiciously.He thought if ever they knew what he was going through they'd probably crack up by now..His mind could explode any moment.

The clock was ticking and now there was just 10mins. to go.

He tried to regulate his breathing, trying to calm himself down,but palpitation took the better of him.His fingers were shaking. He clenched his fist trying to steady the vibration. The jacket was tight,he felt suffocated. He felt claustrophobic.He wanted to break free and breathe easy.But he could not.He had to sit there quietly.He had to wait for the right time.The right moment.He thought of his family back home.He thought about their lives.How they had struggled in his childhood. The pain was behind and glory lay ahead...but it would not be easy..he would have to walk through fire.Suddenly he snapped back to consciousness.The gatekeeper was making him uneasy.He kept a constant vigil ,should anything come in his way and his mission,he would have to engage in a confrontation.

5 minutes to go.

His patience gave up- he got up and slowly looked around - still no sign. He was cautious, not to attract any undue attention.He walked a few paces back and forth to ease the tension.One part of him thought why was he doing this? He could just run out of it all.But he had come too far to go back now.And they would hunt him down wherever he would go.They were everywhere tracking him.He could literally feel their eyes on him.

After all he was the chosen one.Chosen from so many others who volunteered.He could run but not hide.He needed the money.It was good, it was big, it was something he had not seen before. His life, as he knew it so far, would change ...forever.

30 seconds to go.

It was time. As he looked up to the door - he realized he was walking to fulfill his destiny.It was time to walk through that door....for that final interview...and possibly his path to freedom from his past struggling life.

Gyan Ban Thoughts - This short story may sound a tad humorous in the end, but is dedicated to all those people who suffer paranoia or nervousness.They are trapped in a state of mind and find it increasingly difficult to break free. Their mental freedom comes only after the incident is over.Sometimes people falter under pressure and excel when left alone to do their thing.Unfortunately, our system is designed to put us under pressure and we glorify those who excel under pressure.Spare a thought and be sensitive to some people who are not so naturally gifted with resilience or flamboyance yet are no less talented in their work.

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Goodbye

As the shocking news trickled in, the whispering dignitaries at the state

banquet dinner table waited for a reaction from the prime minister.

There was none.

Instead he offered an unflinching calmness & composure.

His love,and duty for the country, demanded a silent farewell.

He’d once asked her - ‘Why does it take a minute to say hello & an eternity to say goodbye’ ?

He’d finally got his answer.

-

-

-

Edwina Mountbatten had died in her sleep.

Gyanban thoughts – Lord and Lady Mountbatten served as, respectively, the last Viceroy and Vicereine of pre-Partition India. Jawaharlal Nehru and Edwina Mountbatten shared a strong platonic frienship,perhaps borderlining on romance.Some secrets are forever wrapped in pages of history and only a few people know the exact nature of their relationship. The prime minister displayed exemplary courage to set aside personal grief and engaged with the important foreign dignitaries visiting Hyderabad House that evening.The final Goodbye tested his strength of mind to the limit.

Researched from - The Hindu Archives and authored by Ramchandra Guha here.

On February 21, 1960, Edwina Mountbatten died in her sleep while on a visit to Borneo. Shortly after midday, the news was communicated to Walter Crocker by his friend Rajkumari Amrit Kaur, the veteran Gandhian and high-ranking Minister in the Union Government. That evening the Australian diplomat was due to attend a dinner at Hyderabad House in honour of the historian Arnold Toynbee.

As a first-hand account of how Jawaharlal Nehru felt and acted the day Edwina Mountbatten died, this is striking indeed. With an almost magisterial self-will, Nehru appears to have kept his thoughts (and we may presume, his grief) hidden within himself. A honoured guest had come to town, and the Prime Minister’s duty was to entertain and amuse him. At the time, Toynbee had a colossal popular following. Never since (and rarely before) has a mere historian been treated with such deference around the globe or so readily acknowledged as an oracle. That evening at Hyderabad House, the others around the table, whether Indian or Western, were inhibited, even tongue-tied. It was only the Prime Minister who could engage Toynbee in a conversation of intellectual equals. His dearest friend had just died: but his office, and his country, demanded of Nehru that he set aside his personal grief and act as was expected of him.

Lights,Camera - Action.

My studio lights are always glowing.

She spins, clicks, laughs and swirls her hair.

Her hands are smooth,feeling the metallic bulge.

I look at her mischevious eyes and they tell a story.

Click.

I grin.

Click.

She’s got to be crazy,I manage to grin.

Click.

She starts to laugh hysterically.

Click.

Blood, spots the lens.

Gyan Ban Thoughts - This post is about aspiring models.Scores of these dreams get killed everyday under the arc lights. Exploitation is rampant and millions of cases go unreported.This story is of one such incident.On a separate note, just to tickle your fancy - the story is written with an open end. Leave a comment on who killed who ? What do you think ? The devil is in the detail read the words carefully.

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