When did I stop writing

 It's 2:00 Am right now. Over my lap my world, my baby, my daughter is playing. She is cute little doll. But I won't be writing about her. At this odd hour I was reading my old blogs. When I realised I used to be a good writer, but why and when did I stopped writing.

As I am writing this blog my cute Lil daughter is pulling my hand to stop writing. And kicking with her legs to play. So I'll write this blog later

To My Daughter

 Meri pyaari si bitya raani,

Mujhe pta hai abhi aap is duniya me nhi aayi ho. lekin mere khayalo me toh aa gaye ho. bahut si baatein hai jo mai aapse kehna chati hun. pta nhi kabhi keh bhi paungi ki nahi. bahut bar khayalon me aata hai meri beti hogi use mai apne jaise nhi banne dungi. kamjor, emotional, darpok, gussail,dusro ka khayal rakhne wali. mai usko ekdum nidarr bnaungi, bijli se bhi tezz, logo ka muh tod dene wali, karate sikhaungi usko, koi ungli bhi uthaye toh haath tod kar rakh de samne wale ka. wo kisi se bhi pyaar karne se pehle apne aap se pyar karna seekhe, kaisi bhi dikhti ho, apne aap ko sundar lage, duniya k liye sundar lagne k liye nhi aayegi wo. jitna bhi dimag ho sab mere liye wo hamesha genius hi rhe. hum sanskari bna kar kya hi kar lenge. kisi din uski shaadi hogi toh bechari wahan jakar sankar dimag me rakh kar, chup kar k rone se toh accha hai na, wo sukhi rahegi but galat bardast nhi karegi....pta nhi baccha mai kya kya sochti rehti hun aapke liye

lekin jis din apne aap ko hara dekhti hun na... bhagwan se yehi prathna karti hun. ki mat bhejna is duniya me. yahan auraton ki koi izzat nhi

wo padhi likhi ho ya  anpadh, housewife ho ya working, paise deti hun ya nhi, wo sab sirf aurat hai aur kuch bhi nhi. aise hi samay me lagta hai bhagwan mujhe koi ladki nhi chaiye, ek devi maa ka niradar mai apne ghar me nhi chati. mai toh lakshith ko bhi sikhana chathi hun ki aurat ko samjhe, unki respect kare. but seekhe toh tab jab uski khud ki maa ki respect ho ghar. jo dekhega wahi toh aage karega. mere ghar me jo bhi aayegi uska niradar mai nhi hone dungi.

meri bacchi.....maa really loves you a lot.... really want to see you in my arms....really want to hold your hand and walk...do the matching dresses.....but mom is too afraid to bring you into this world....i really wish to have a boy instead of a girl now.......kudiyan unnhun do datya jo kare kudiyan di izzat, us parivar che na bhej kudi oo rabba jitthe muh bhi na khol payen... aye mere malika kar kuch aida da chamatkar....ki har ghar jitthe devi nu bhejo utthe ho khusiyon di bochaar...

Being thoughtless

All of a sudden there is darkness inside,
Its dark and hollow where it was once bright,
The worries is what all over my head.
My dreams, My ambition is almost dead. 

Sometimes I Just Love Writing

 There have been times when I so curious to write something. Something about me, my family, my friends, someone special, about things happening around me, about the trip we went. But sometime I just missed these turns. Sometime I had other work to do. Sometimes I didn't have right atmosphere or sometimes I didn't even have a paper or pen to jot down my thoughts.

Today is one such days when I am so eager about writing something. And what a better place could be than my terrace for this. Sitting on the wall of my terrace and seeing the view around. The mind-boggling nature art on the sky, when the sun set down and it leaves an orange or pinkish background behind. The pinkish view of the sky with the mix grayish horizon with some white clouds. The light wind blowing between my two piggy tails. Two girls in my neighbors’ terrace (might be friends). Their laugh, giggling around reminds my days back with my best friends. The main street running behind my house. The noise of cars, trucks, tractors, bike/scooters, cart holders and fruits and vegetable vendors noises, dog bark.