HAS NEW MEDIA DESTROYED THE RICHNESS OF COMMUNICATION

               Since i reached home i am thinking only about imran. His story makes me sad. How can one be in so much pain? He can't even share his feelings with anyone. I wish if i could help him. I kept thinking about  it the whole night. Suddenly an idea striked my mind. I got up and wrote a letter. Next morning i went to the orphanage and asked the nun to give that letter to imran when he arrives. I was waiting for his reply. After two days i got a call from the orphanage they told me that imran wanted to meet me.
        With no time wasted i rushed to meet imran. He was sitting on the garden's bench holding a paper in his hand. I just wanted the people to know imran's story. So many years he kept the pain within him i wanted him to share that pain with the world.I know that wouldn't bring back the people he lost but atleast it would help him to heal. I decided to make a video that would showcase imran's story through his painting.
Maybe his story can bring some awareness among the people maybe it can save thousands of lives in the future. 
         Modern media would help me to share imran's story worldwide. It will help us to communicate with every person on the land. When it comes to modern media you can communicate in an excellent way. One can impart the message through the modern medium of communication. Now only one thing made me worried and that was,will imran say yes? I went and sat beside him. He gave me the paper and surprisingly it was a green signal. Imran wrote YES he was fine with my idea. 
" New media ruins conversation but when it comes to communication it works in an excellent way."

PICTURES STILL SPEAK THE MOST UNIVERSAL UNDERSTOOD LANGUAGE

                 A good life is when you smile often, dream big, laugh a lot and realize how blessed you are for what you have. This is what life means to me. Ohh! Let me first introduce myself. I am ishika desai a marathi mulgi from mumbai. I am 19 years old and i am doing my bachelors in arts. Since i was young  i always wanted to do service for the society so i decided to join a NGO. Its been 6 months now i am working with the NGO. Recently we visited a orphanage. We were taking children welfare workshops.
        Sometimes you feel that you are the one who is going to give knowledge but you end up gaining lessons. Similar thing happened with me. While teaching the lessons i learned many of the new life lessons. During the visit i meet mr imran khan. He used to take drawing class for the children's in the orphanage. He was dumb and couldn't speak. But then someone told me that he wasnt born dumb but due to some past shocks he lost his voice. The curiosity about his past life began to increase with no paitence i asked him about it.
        He asked me to follow him. He took me to his desk. He gave me his sketch book. I was curious to know that what exactly was there in the sketch book.As the first turned the first page i was impressed by his painting but as i turned the last page tears flowed of my eyes. His  pictures depicted his life story.
It had glances of the ram mandir riots which happened in 1993.
The pictures told how his life took a turn after that conflict. He lost everything his family, his love ones,his voice. A reflection of inhumanity, no mercy was seen first. But then it depicted the message of humanity. We all were born as humans and not as a hindu or a muslim or a Christian. Then why to flow blood of the same species,why to kill someone else love ones, why why? Its very true that pictures speak the universal  language. 
"If you tell me, it's an essay. If you show me, it's a story."
 _ Barbara Greene

THE FIRST RAIN

          
   The wind rushed through the trees
                  and gave a roar 
     And the leaves fell on the barely 
                           road
  
  The sea waves furiously thrashed
                      the shore
     And the birds sang the melodies
               of the nature's core
     
    The sky thundered by the grace 
                          of thor
    And all this happened as the rain
       came and showered the soul

POSTCARD

                      
            कल्पनेचे पोस्टकार्ड  कधी पोस्टच झाले        
                                       नही 
           त्यामधले पत्र कोणी वाचायला आले नाही 
        
         पत्रातला रस्ता होता भुगभूगत्या मातीचा 
         पण खऱ्या वाटे वरती पाय ठेवताच भेगा 
                          पडल्या टचेला 

       पत्रात यशाच्या पायऱ्या झटपट चढून गेलो 
       पण इथे पायऱ्या शोधन्यातच अर्धा विरुन 
                                   गलो 
     
               रंगवली हज़ारो स्वप्ने या पत्रामध्ये 
        पण वास्तव्यात तर ही दबून गेली क़लमाच्या 
                        काळ्या शाई मध्ये 

              पत्रातला दिवस संपता संपला नही 
      अहो पण इथे संध्याकाळ कधी झाली हेच                    
                          कळलेच नाही 

         पत्रात देवाने दिलेले आयुष्य भरून पुरून 
                               जगलो 
            इथे दहा जन्म भेटले तर वाटेल आता       
                        कुठेतरी उमगलो 
         
        किती सुंदर आहे हे पोस्टकार्ड आणि त्या 
                         मधल  हे  पत्र 
       पण राव कल्पना आहे ही कधी तरी विरुन 
                        जाईल हे सगळे 

              
   
  

Someday when you grow up...

           Someday when you grow up
       You may regret for the time you
                    wasted yesterday

           Someday when you grow up
        You will be left with no plans for
                       the future day

           Someday when you grow up
        When you want to change your  
       destiny you will have to wait for 
                        another day
        
   And if you never want this to break 
          you down start working from
                          TODAY

SHWAAS MITNYAADHI

                   
   
                        ह्रिदयाचा  ठोका  चुकला  
                                  तुज्या नादी             
                   स्वप्नात दिसला  तू मला माज्या 
                               मनाच्या काठी 
                 तुझा  हाथ  पकडून जाईन  मी दूर 
                                    वाटी 
                  नेहमी  राहिन  मी तुझ्याच  साठी 
              
                 स्वर  तुझे माझ्या  मनावर बिंबले 
                     गुलालाच्या  रंगात मी रंगले 
                     प्रेमाचे  धुके जीवनी दाटले 
                    तुझ्या  विचारांमध्ये मी गुंतले 

                  प्रेमाच्या होडीत बसून आपण 
                  पार  करू आयुष्याची नदी 
                चार ओळी प्रेमाच्या म्हणेन मी  
                            तुझ्यासाठी
                  आता एकच इच्छा आहे अंती
                           तुलाच पाहावे मी 
                       श्वास मिटण्याआधी 

GOD

                       

              God rises in the morning 

                    in the form of sun

            And shines during the night 

                   in the form of moon

                    He is experienced 

                    in the form of air

                He is the one to whom

              you can find everywhere