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Friday, January 9

A Soldier's Wish

Three bullets in all – one on the elbow, one on thigh and one straight to the chest. I was thankful of wearing a chest guard that day. It was my work, killing people is what I am paid for, people also disguise us as soldiers. There is not a single day, when we are spared of cross-firing. The wound on my chest is now covered with a shiny gold medal, which brightly displayed my name, and a certificate which I held, mentioning the concession of money to my family. I try to measure the pain of bullet that I took, it rewarded me with lives of three enemy soldiers. Soldiers are habitual of pain, the word itself demeans them, and their work. Their passion takes them forward with courage and a will which loudly echoes the nation’s name.

I believe I am different, with a thought process exclusive from them. I remember the first time it struck my mind, perhaps isolation from the ones I long for, and the situations which I went through, I could the see the emotions, disguised as travelers making their way far, dragging with each step, farther away from me. Those were the thoughts once perceived by me, but being a soldier, something so delicate seemed naive and was considered insignificant in the realms of death, which we have to deal with, every single day. With every bullet I fire, I think about my home. I think about my family, the ones who belonged to me and the ones I could call mine. The imagination takes me above in an open sky, where I meet emotions such as love and longing. I ponder upon the time when my people would finally be with me. A grave thought arises in my mind, a question which is unanswerable with time. The expectations often end with grief.

I try to reason out my presence here at the border and my absence at my home, among my people. “I cannot let my country die, I must protect it” is what mind reflects back. “But are the ones on the other side of the border emotionless? Do they not miss their home, their family?” I try to argue with my mind or perhaps it was my heart who spoke from the realms of my soul. The discussion continues every night, making my tired body live another sleepless night. Before I could ever deduce the conclusion, the morning breaks out and with it – the risking of life. It was just another day, I wanted to reach my destination, but it looked as if something else was destined for me. For long unknown hours in despondency, I would talk to myself, finding solace in the darkness of life.

I could hear the heavy steps breaking into the chamber, it was an alarm to rise up for the duties once again. There was chaos everywhere and it seemed like a wishful thinking come alive. “We have been attacked by a large number of soldiers and their army is approaching the inner lands”. I rise up like a mannequin, with no expressions and as fixated as a dead body, preparing with arms, I look towards the sky once more, it seems to dazzle as if it might cry anytime. The sun seems to be setting, or maybe he wants to hide and doesn't want to be a witness to the cruelty of the world, and sin we might do. I try listening to messages my family had conveyed through winds, “Come home soon”, they uttered. It seemed like a voice of my mother. I came back to reality as the noises became intense.
Rushing outside to see a swamp of people firing, with no fear at all. You could see death lurking in their eyes, as if they want to accept death with open arms. “Was it my destiny too?” I questioned the empty air. My destiny was to reach home, but it looks vague now. We are ordered to march ahead and face the enemy. It starts to rain – I was right, the sky wanted to cry.

It was same this time, three bullets in all – one on the chest, one below the elbow and one sneering through the heart. I was thankful of not wearing the chest guard this time. I knew, it was my end. The imaginations seemed to stop, because they’ll be reality now. With every ounce of pain, I close my eyes and choose to surrender to my destiny. In the darkness of death, I witnessed myself at home again. Probably it was for the goodbyes to the family but this time – I was covered with a tri-colored flag, with medals kept on me. Though I slept in eternal peace and returned with a motionless figure, for the last time, it felt good to be home again...

Tanishq Sharma

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Wednesday, December 31

Remembering 2014 - My Detailed Life.

QuoteIts been an year to remember, Captive Of Thoughts entered into a much better phase. From a non-professional blogger, much keen to being updated as stories, poems, I designed it to look much more sophisticated, clean and simplified.

I did learn much more about Placement of advertisements along with the complete design, and the likeness of viewers/readers. Perhaps, what they say about food, does apply to our blogs too, "You first eat with your eyes".

With this, I did design what seems a simplistic blog design and I plan to continue this for a time and more! But there was more about this year, than any of the two behind, considering this blog. Twenty-four posts this year. Ten more than 2013, and Twenty more than 2012. It has been a great progress, and this might have not been possible if the people around me haven't supported, in every task. There are people, who supported me in every post and writing of mine, and I am really grateful of their act. Hopefully, there are much better posts coming in next year, following my completion of 12th standard, and, that also means, that there won't be any post on Captive Of Thoughts, in next 4 months perhaps. Don't worry, it is often worth the wait.

But today, lets remember what we created all this year, and what people loved the most. In-case you missed any, now you may not! For, I bring you the best and the worst of 2014 at Captive Of Thoughts.

Captive Of Thoughts - Year 2014
The year at Captive Of Thoughts.

  • January
The year started with the story that was loved throughout the year. Named, "The Setting Sun", it talked about a person's heartbreak as he sat on a bench, looking at the horizon with a marriage card that did not belong to him. Perhaps, people connected a chord with it, and it stayed at number 1 ranking for record-6 months. The other post in this month was much of an monologue of me expressing everything I felt at that time. The darkness seemed to express the light, in a much lighter way.

  • March
Another edition in the story, which was well received by the readers. "Looking back..." was one such story, whose success mattered none to me, since it was written in pure joy and self satisfaction. I accepted a guest post in this month from Aashish Nehete in his post, "Belief, Hope and Faith" which talked about the different perspective to God, religion and our tentative faith, and behavior in it. The final post of this month coming as a tip to someone drowning when me-myself was under-water. Yes, the final post- "How to overcome stress?" was one such post. Fortunately, this remained on second most loved post for a long time.

  • April
Its hard to believe that I wrote 8 posts this month. The biggest since this blog's inception. This month included some of the new elements to the blog, Photography and Hindi Kavita. Starting with a new concept, the first post of the month was "Jaise rooth gaye ho apne humse", which was again, well received by the audience. The posts following it were the photography posts titled, "The Art Of Tray". 3 Photography posts until I came up with the Story once again, this time, titled - "The Truth which lied in front of Me". Interesting story as quoted by reader, you should give it a try too. Another guest post which followed this month was by Pratham Agarwal, who beautifully wrote on - "Physical Appearance - Does it Matter?". The month ended with a story which is till this date renowned as the BEST STORY of Captive Of Thoughts. Shared, thousand more times and entered the top 5 in 4 hours of being posted, and never left from that spot. "As She Walked Away", was caught as the most touching, loved and versatile emotional story. There are many people who I need to thank, but this story being this famous makes it a reward for them.

Here, the links to the post of this month.
  • September
The only post in September being "The Moonlight", a short paragraphed story. Much to the anticipation, it brought many loyal readers to our ship.
  • October
Nothing special in this month except for my birthday. Though we had 5 posts in this month, but 3 of them were the pictorial posts to the stories posted in the months before. The other significant things posted in this month were my picture Quotes. And yes, also a Diwali post for no pollution.

  • November
From this month, began the wait for the Online Series by Captive Of Thoughts, titled The Stalemate. A formal announcement that the Chapter 1 will be launched on 9th December 2014. And yes, people did wait for this. Thanks to all of them. The other post in this month was the Lost Desire.

  • December
This was the month probably which I was waiting for. Chapter 1 from my online novel named, "The Stalemate" was finally published. And much to my delight, everyone loved it, and how did I know it, its when they started inquiring about when is the chapter 2 launching. Felt, really good that time. Yes, the second chapter will be posted in April.
Grieving instances of this month, the Peshawar Attacks, no words could match their sorrow, but I tried inculcating, and saluting those mothers, in my poem - "Mother Told Me To be a brave boy". The poem went viral on the social media, but then, I never fancy celebrating such thing. The last post of the month was a guest post by Aashish Nehete again, "The Murder Victim - Can you find out who?". One heck of an interesting story by him. 

Its been an amazing year, and hope so, the next one continues to be. On this note, let me take an off for few months. Meet you after that. Thanks for the support.

Tuesday, December 23

The Murder Victim - Some Stories Are Better Left Incomplete

The cold sting shot up her spine. The sight of a dead body lying in a pool of thick red blood was enough to make her sick. The fact that it was her rival didn't help either. Though she always hated her, death made matters complicated. A human thinks clearer in these situation. Moreover a teenager, with all those hormones swimming in the blood vessels, are worst while dealing with these matters.

She gently pulled out the knife lodged in the deceased’s stomach. Touching the cold blade finally freed the subdued emotions in her heart and she let out a cry. A man rushed, then another and soon there were a handful of adults.

The human possesses a judgmental character. The one which leaps to conclusions at the sight of things and thinks that he is the most right person in the room. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that every man possess a will of evil towards his fellow humans. He is just always under the impression that only he himself is right, unless someone agrees with him, then they are right too along with himself. This self-proclaimed king of human thus clouds himself from further truth and general opinion.

The knife in her hand, the dead body on the floor and the look of panic mistaken for hatred made matters worse for the heroine of this story. In a few days she was a criminal in the eyes of the public and some more days later, in the eyes of the law too, but I don’t think that matters here.
The way she was talked about was truly sorry for someone who knew the truth about the matters. Her, me and now everyone who’s reading this. She was cursed, tortured (mentally) and traumatized. And a fragile heart cannot bear these lies. Maybe because she had seen death before or maybe because someone drove her towards this; her body readily accepted her mind’s decision. She was no more.

The truth is known to only a handful of people. The spectators must rely on the trust they hold for any one of them and assume that to be the truth, but is it always true what you think is right? That’s it. We have got it. The truth is not what you feel is right or what others feel.

After all of this if I’m to tell you that she did commit the murder. It’s possible because I started this narration after the murder had been already committed. Your facts are only true as much as I tell you but are mine true. In the end ask this question to yourself, who is the murder victim here?

Aashish Nehete

We thank Aashish for taking out time and writing this short, but not sweet story for us! We look forward to have you on board, more than forever times. Cheers!
We thank Alexa (Blog) for the ranking - We are now under top 25,000 websites of India.

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Wednesday, December 17

Mother told me to be a 'Brave Boy' - #PeshawarAttacks

Forgive my killers mother,
They surely do not understand,
What it feels to be human.

Forgive my killers mother,
They themselves haven't been,
A parent another soul.

Forgive my killers mother,
For they plead no guilty,
and they do not deserve to get one.

Forgive my killers mother,
For I'll meet my creator now,
He might have an answer.

Forgive my killers mother,
For they were in the dark,
Blinded by blood all over.

Forgive me as well mother,
For I could not return,
To your voice uttering, "Come back home soon".

You always told me to be a brave boy,
Today, I ask you to be a brave mother.


Tanishq Sharma with, Editions provided by Pratham Agarwal

Its dreadful, its painful, to realize this fact, that such acts, such horror comes out every turn of events.
Terrorism has no religion, It will never have, its about us working together to remove every bit of it.
Lets take a moment of silence, for the words seem to vague to express such grief.

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