Sign-up for FREE Updates.

If not with love

I had a phone conversation with one of my younger brothers sometime back.

He is famous for being Dodo (yeah, that’s his name) as much as for his mischievous behaviors. And of course me and other siblings for being Dodo’s brothers. I am like Dodo’s brother (most of the people do not even know my real name but they know me as Dodo’s elder brother).

He got admitted into school very late because of my father’s irregular nature of the job he was in. And when he finally got admitted to the school, he was like tallest or the eldest in his class that his teachers didn’t need to look for someone else in the class to monitor the class. There used to be complains from the other kids about Dodo bullying them as class captain. Someday, a woman would pop out in front of the house with her kid and complain to Mom about Dodo asking them money and other stationery stuffs. There was also time when he was put inside the water pool by headmaster of his school for making some other kid sit inside it. He was so ill-behaved then and his manners today with age has not pruned yet into a polished form of a wit and understanding kid of his age should normally be into. It has rather become some kind of trouble to parents and other people around.
I received a call from Dad some weeks ago. It was Dodo who got himself into problem again. This time he and his friend cut the electricity wire of some building in neighborhood. The folks have complained to the police and had asked some huge money as compensation for the damages caused by the kids. It was good that Dad knew the folks and they finally settled for some petty amounts. He seemed frustrated and worn out in his voice. Dodo is the eldest amongst the siblings who are with the parents and he has gone wayward of being a good son and a good brother to my youngest brother and a little sister. Dad asks me to talk with Dodo, and that he’s done with telling Dodo.

I could make out how scared and uneasy he was when he said “hello” to me. Instead of being a second to what Dad must have already been, I changed the whole situation with my first question to him, “Bro, I am coming home soon. Do you want anything from here?” there I get the kid’s happiness, “When are you coming?” he sounded suddenly sound and ecstatic that he didn’t even let me answer him, “I want a small mobile”. I don’t know what he meant by small mobile, but I needed to cheer him up and make him happy, “Okie…I will bring you one.” “Bro, you mean it?” “Ya, I will bring you a small mobile if you promise me to look after the sister, study properly, and that you would never do anything naughty?” after being silent for some time, he happily replies, “You can ask Apa or Ama from now onwards if I am being naughty or if am not looking after sister or if I am not studying well. Get me one small mobile okie?” “I will keep on asking about it to Dad.”

Last week I receive a call from home and Dad assured me that Dodo is doing fine so far. And in all these conversations with Dad, Dodo comes to the phone and like an ultimatum, says to me “Bro if you don’t bring me a small mobile phone, I promise I would become one of the naughtiest boy around”…I replied him “You just keep doing what you have promised me, I will get you a small mobile.” I could hear my little sister crying behind the phone.

Now I am wondering if he keeps his end of the promise, what should be the price I would be paying for the kind of person my brother would become.

Life is a perception of your own reality.....

Life is a perception of your own reality

The word "life" has probably been around ever since mankind began using language. It is a word of fundamental importance to all of us, and seldom do we make it through an entire day without putting it to use. We do so, however, with only a sketchy and subjective idea of what “life” actually means. This is because until recently, within the last century or so, it has been easy for people to distinguish between what they call living and what they call non-living. There has been no need to define life precisely; its meaning is intuitively understood.

If the world around you doesn't fulfill your expectations, and thoughts like "What do I What is the meaning of life? Why are we here? Is there a God or isn’t there, and if there is a God, what is its nature? Of all the world’s religions, which one is the most correct? Is there an afterlife? Are we primarily physical beings or spiritual beings? Are you ready to spend your entire life searching for an answer to the ultimate question: "What is the meaning of my life?"

If the world around you does not fulill your expectations, and thoughts like, “What do I live for?" and "What is the meaning of my life?"  keep bothering you, you need to do some serious soul searching. It's not a feeling of melancholy, and no medicine will cure it.                                                                                                        
The way we answer these questions will provide the ultimate context for everything else we do with our lives. If we place any value on our lives at all, we must give some consideration to these questions.                                                                            
For half of my life, I’ve been searching for the context that would give me the best possible life. Of course, this is a strange pursuit because it requires searching for a context while at the same time always being stuck inside of one. In other words, the definition of best possible life” is also part of any context, so I have to find a context that both defines that term AND provides a means to fulfill it.

 Life has a very unique way of teaching us things. It keeps repeating itself until we learn what it’s teaching us, then and only then can we move on. In the mean time, don't knock you self on the head too hard, take things as it comes your way. You have to feel like you are working for something, you can even (and I mean this in a nice way) stop thinking about yourself, put others first. Can you think about anyone you can help today? There are so many things we could do… there is no one single answer. But it’s a start. Above all, Love yourself and give thanks for the day you have had every day!! Even when its bad….always remember, “ I complained I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet."

Keep in mind, there is no source, my teacher is life itself......

Alpana Jaiswal
Labels: Life, meaning, answer, yourself
Pictures: Courtesy Google Images

The Joys of Being With Children

I guess for the most part, aside from being able to watch cartoons, going out, reading books, animating, reciting rhymes and lulling them to sleep, one of the best things I am continuously learning from living with children is keeping in touch with this 

sense of curiosity...
 innocence and simplicity...

One Sunday, my mom and I gave a wonderful treat to my nieces, belle, who was then five  and faustine, who was one, to the Manila Zoo...
I have to thank my teacher who opened me to the idea of different types of learners. We're mostly visual and auditory but my niece faustine is a tactile learner. She has to touch the objects inorder to grasp its meaning...

 well, (ATTENZIONE) I just had her touch the big snake (nyahaha!)... 

It was like making true a wish I had for my professors in history. I wanted them to see the ruins in Rome too (especially the Colosseo) when I went there. Going to the real place keeps me in touch with its historic essence.

This is what I wanted my nieces to feel... well, okay, the zoo has no historic value (hahaha!) but they were able to see the ones we studied in their picture books. 

I found myself totally relaxed for quite sometime being with the children...I guess, it's because I'm beginning to enjoy their company more... 
I am able to reach to that part of me that has been lost for quite sometime...that playful side of me...

I love these children....

"You can do nothing with children unless you win their confidence and love by bringing them into touch with yourself, by breaking through all the hindrances that keep them at a distance. We must accommodate ourselves to their tastes, we must make ourselves like them."-St. John Bosco

Change yourself if you can't change others

Were you ever in a circumstance where you were damn right with all the due following of rules and regulations, yet you seem to be getting the least of all you deserve, or even worse, you don’t get at all but in some bizarre fashion, you land up paying the debt.

I was telling my friend, other day about how the ideal world, something that should be logically functioning in a honest and true manner, do not functions in so and so way in the real world. A boss would prefer someone who can have things done on time through however way latter chooses, be it any way ward off the systematic manner than someone who waits for the things to come into system. We live in a world filled with possible yet unexpected casualties of uncontrolled metabolism of ever running time and ever laying consciences, and life harassed with the changing priorities and unknown nuisance. There are many problems than solutions. And we are part of that universe, and as unit, I fear to say that I do contribute to it in some sections though unwittingly. It becomes beyond my comprehension to deter it from happening, and yet I wish to be in the perfect world bound by virtuous conventions and humanly ethics.

You try being honest and straightforward, there’s so much a chance that someone may call you blunt than an honest. There may even be a chance that you are nothing but a shrub which is not yet pruned with the stormy winds and the harsh scorching sunlight. Innocent and ignorant are other adjectives which could well even start sounding more like a noun. And these are realities of the same world which one in ideal-world-of-his-own is living in reality. It all ends up one getting dissolute and isolated which is of course not a healthy idea of living the life. And there are many who succeeds and lives life happily just by being what you feel as impure. But isn’t that what human’s have discovered long time back?

Once, Confucious said “If a man can’t change the world, change himself for the world”, and this words of the great philosopher comes more than just a chill pill for anyone suffering from the frustration or the syndrome of idealistic world-to-be-ingrained-in-real world.

If the world is so uncanny and things are happening the way it is, then it is the reality, a reality where everyone is content or are moving in a same direction. Whether you like it or not, there’s no ideal remedy to escape from the music when it’s all playing hard every time. Better still, try learning how to live with it, or better still, and dance on it.

I'm Missing You

Let it go 
Cause the hardest part is over.
Don't you say it 
Cause I don't want to remember.
A little care,
Just a message that says, "I'm coming over."
A little time,
Cause it's you I wish to turn to
I'll get by...
It's your thought that really matters now.
Just one hour
Is all I ever needed from you somehow.
I'm relaxed,
But I'm scared and uncertain.
I'm afraid,
That you'll cause this heart broken.

You are hard to get over
Thoughts of you fill mine
I believe it's coming to an end
Maybe I'll just have to pretend
I'm missing you my special friend.

Hint of Spook

“I think my house is haunted.” Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper. She looked visibly shaken, her face ashen, fingers gripping each other in a fist, nerves standing out.

“What makes you think so?” he asked.

“Last night…” she could not go on. It was the same as last night. The same terror gripped at her throat, steadfast and sure.

“Tell me.”

She shook her head. She could not. The cold was still there under her skin, her fear, disturbing and raw. Sonali had moved into the two-bedroom apartment, much against her better instincts, without a choice really. It was that particular room. She had kept her prayer books and made it her prayer room. She knew she would never be able to sleep there. Her hair had stood on ends the moment she had stepped into the room the first time. Desperation had made her take up the place. Only for a month, she told herself.

Last night had been something else. The fan had somehow given way and she moved to the prayer room to escape the sweltering heat. It must have been around two perhaps, she had abruptly been woken up, quite unable to breathe, or budge, or scream. The air was still, not a sound came from any spot. Usually, she could close her eyes once more, count to ten and then be able to see and make out shapes in the darkness.

It was not the same. This was worse. It was the kind of darkness that went on, in an endless chasm of obscurity. She was unable to move. Worse, she could not feel herself breathe either. She felt something, someone, press her down. It was the weight from a different world. When someone tries to put you down, it is only in specific parts of your body that you feel the pressure. Sonali wanted to scream, a cry of sheer desperation that stuck at the throat. She knew she was making an effort, she could feel nothing except the weight of whatever it was that was weighing her down, every inch of her body in the grip of something unknown, too powerful and strong for her to throw off.

Think. She told herself. Calm down. You are on the periphery of panic. She concentrated on diverting her mind from the presence she could not see, but knew was there because she could not see anything, not even a stream of light came from the windows whose curtains remained parted. It’s funny how one surely remembers God when all else fails. So was the case with her; she began praying, a simple Gayatri Mantra that was all-powerful; more powerful than whatever it was that tried to possess her then.  It could have been five minutes or an eternity…all of a sudden it was over. The light from the streets soaked the room, beads of sweat trickling down her head. She heaved and sat up.

Was it a dream? Was it reality? She was baffled. All she knew was that she would not sleep there. She walked out into the tiny sorry excuse for a parlour and took out a bottle of water from the refrigerator, its light sharp and piercing. She drank in the coolness of it till she was quenched.

She sat at the narrow staircase leading up to her terrace, tracing out shapes on the walls, the waft of marijuana filling her being and numbing her senses. She floated, the feeling of lightness beginning and coursing up her body from the tip of toes. She could feel the elation course through every part of her. Soon the numbness would come, a numbness that would deviate her from the memories that haunted her, like this very apartment she lived in. the pain of the memories came and went. The oblivion was within reach, the shadows of leaves dancing on the wall. She was unafraid, free, and ready to take on, whatever had assailed her tonight. The morning would come. The day would put all of it on hold until the night returned, merging her nightmares with her ghost-companion whose room she had invaded tonight.

The morning would bring on the fears of living with a ghost…

“Tell me…” he shook her out of her reverie. She stared at him.

“I think it’s nothing,” she replied quietly, “I must have been hallucinating.”

Copyright @Sandy

Washed Ashore

Whispers romance the moonlight,
you make love through the night
Beads of sweat cool in the breeze,
meandering the gaps of embraces tight

Beads of sweat cool in the breeze,
roving hands naught to cease
Sweet sighs of the sensual lips,
tug, nibble, fumble and tease

Sweet sighs of the sensual lips,
a coming closer of the hips
The mind blows, bowls,
body shudders and my heart flips.

Copyright @Sandy


Whoever thought we could progress beyond selfish gains?

We that were born of dust, to dust return

seeking grief over love and happiness

the children burn even before they are born.

Image courtesy - Google Images 
Copyright @Sandy

My Love My Life


She is the pink evening of a sunny day,

She is an ocean and I am the Bay,

She is the only gift for which I pray,

She is the one who takes my pain away,

She is the reason of what I am today,

She is the brightest colour and the rest is grey,

She is the emotion I can't convey,

She is the beauty words can't portray,

She is the one I could never betray,

She is the scent which will forever stay,

and that's all I can say.

"I can't feel the difference between air and your Love anymore sweetheart.....I may survive lack of air but lack of Love for a second can kill me"-Abhisek Panda
~I Love You~


Image: courtesy Google Images

Abhisek Panda
About the Author :
He loves challenging the concepts of others & that invariably leads him to create his own ideas and to pioneer new lines of thought.He Writes about Film,Art,Poetry,Stories and Personal views on things that matter.A Filmmaker,a Photographer,a CG Artist,a writer and Blogger.Music and Book Lover, curious about web design and development.He is the founder of "WE HAVE A STORY" and many other blogs and websites.


She will chase you around for a while,

But there's going to be a day when..

She's gonna stop running..

In circles around you

She's going to get over you 


That very moment ,

You are going to wish you had let her catch you..

Darker than the Shade

(This is not for those who cannot digest stories of child abuse)

“What are you doing?” she asks her voice wary, cautious and really frightened.

“ Shhh! Hush!” he continues to run his coarse fingers over her creamy skin.
She is scared. He suddenly looks bigger, more ominous than ever. She begins to shiver, the room dark, a chill running through her five-year old body, goose bumps spreading all over.

“I want to go.” She does not like what he is doing. He looks at her, realising she is getting petrified. He slows down, playing with her, tickling, until she lets off a squeal of laughter. 

“It is a fun game.” He cups the sides of her face between his palms and looks into her earnest eyes. She does not understand and it does not seem like fun at all.

He lifts her frock and she pulls it down. There is no place to run. He has her standing on the dining table. 

“Give me a kiss,” he demands. She kisses him on his pimples-ridden cheek, quickly withdrawing. He asks her if he can now kiss her back. She stares at him, her fingers sweaty, clamping them tight.

No Money, No Time

I would love to go to India. Nay, I love to go to India.
Outside my apartment, the dissonance of bustling traffic soon slowed to a dwindle as night set in, punctuated only by the occasional honking. The scent of freshly-sunned bedsheets enveloped my senses as I snuggled into the warm cosy bed. But I couldn't sleep. My mind had been thinking about travelling to India. I tossed and turned in my bed. 

I went to the living hall to talk to my ever supportive travel companion, Brent. He's a suave man whose golden year was fast approaching, yet had a chiselled jaw line that could break all women's hearts. He was engrossed watching his favorite football game when I interrupted his attention, " I'd like to go to India."
He looked at me, annoyed, gave me a black look then barked, "We'd just been to China and it's only for a week now, then here you are coming up with another planned trip? You must be out of your mind! I don't own great possessions and I don't have the luxury of time."

He seemed a little grouchy but I challenged his quick-tempered response. I knew deep inside he would surely love to go too. It was this kind of feeling that stirred within me.

I replied, "Okay then, maybe tomorrow I'll talk to you again. Maybe you'll change your mind - I am really dying to go to India."

He growled back, "No money, no time."
I shrugged, smiled and replied again, "Okay, I still hope to visit India, so maybe tomorrow you'll change your mind." I bounced off, back to my room, intrigued by where this was going. There was something deeper brewing.

The next night, I sat opposite him on the L-shaped sofa and uttered, "I am dying to visit India."
"No money, no time."
"Okay then, maybe tomorrow you'll change your mind."
After consecutive nights of imploring and as the breeze turned warm and comforting, could that be a smile cracking?
"No money, no time."
"Okay then, maybe tomorrow you'll change your mind. I am still dying to visit India."
And then the next week still, "No money, no time."
Then another week came, we were well into December, and the night turned chilly and a little change was seen with his response, "No money, no time." This time I saw a smile on his face.
I smiled back, "Okay then, maybe tomorrow you'll change your mind. I am really dying to visit India."

Our repartee went through November till February. There were instances in our conversation that he took the time to explain that he was busy and although money was not really so much of a problem, he just had to say it to discourage me from getting on my itchy feet again. I noticed one of our flat mates eavesdropping our conversation. I immediately involved her in and asked if she would like to go to India with us. Suddenly engaged, she nodded shyly and smiled and went back to her room. I looked at Brent, smirked and replied, "Maybe tomorrow still you will change your mind. I am really dying to visit India."

Finally, he laughed and shrugged, "No money, no time."
"Oh well...tomorrow again." Then I chortled back and went to my room.

Then on that day of the last Sunday of February, we had lunch together, and just as I was about to begin, "I'm still dying to visit India." Then, wait! I saw him pulled out something from his pocket. Yep, you guessed it - he handed me the air ticket to visit India! Ecstatic, I almost get myself choked, jumped up and yelled, "Yayyy!!!!" Brent chuckled with obvious delight and could not contain his excitement as well. He too let out a snicker. 

"You win! You irritating lad! I'd successfully applied for a week leave this March when you are not working so we could go together. Crap, when are you going to stop?"
And we both laughed our hearts out............

"Focused unwavering desire can manifest anything." This was three months in the making - almost every night. And then I had that ticket - the fulfillment of my dream, yet an excitement that me and my friend felt the same. With continued persistence, it can propel you forward. Just by holding on to your dream - but with no attachment to the outcome - can produce results in the end. Although it make sense to let go of yet another unattainable dream, often we make the wrong decision of letting go far too soon. Reflect on this saying that I'd read from a book: "Just because the stew isn't boiling, doesn't mean it isn't cooking." 

I hope you had enjoyed this story.... :)



Last night I couldn't sleep
Because of the dreams
Dreams of the things we would do
Couldn't get you out of my mind
Couldn't stop imagining your touch
Couldn't sleep because of your lips
Lips that would kiss me
And caress my every inch
Deep in thought all alone 
You drift into my dreams. 
Wishing I could see you

Just to gaze into your eyes
Fills me with desire 
Into blue depths your soul 
Stokes my passionate fire 
Making me wanton
Driving me wild
Merging with words
My emotions start to whimper
Visions of kisses
Of your hands
Find their way into my mind
As sweet rapture spreads
Delicious heat to every needy place
The fantasies we dream 
Find life in a written word 
Upon a warm soft breeze 
Our whispers surely heard
Deep in thought all alone 
I drift into our fantasy 
Where fiery desires dwell 
And wait for you and me
It's like the heat of the sun burns yourself into my mind
Giving life to me
And setting me free
Thirst quenched by two being in love
This has to be sent from above
Loosing all senses, the desire takes control
The breath of yours serves me pleasure unknown
I want this to be forever etched in my mind and soul
You are my breath, my soul
I just can’t wait to be with you 
I don't want to ever let go

Alpana Jaiswal
Labels: Night, soul, fire, kisses, desire
Photographs: Courtesy Melissa’s Facebook Album

A Rainy Day

When I woke this morning
was told it rained…
I looked out
The skies were grey…
I sat in bed sipping
scorching hot coffee
sighed and wished
it was a Sunday…
Such glorious days
should be spent
holding your face
to the breeze,
talking to the sounds of silences
interrupted by
rumbles of thunder…

Along with those gray clouds
my mind wandered…
off to the poem…
The solitary Reaper…
then back again…
to the city I grew to love
of rains and driving through them,
of getting drenched
messed up with melted ice-creams
It was a beautiful day…

Someone thought of me too
I realized...
as my eyes blur
each time I read
all those things
a friend would feel
when far away…
another continent
another country
another city
Just by the sea…
Another view…

Myriads of expectations
lingering and gone…
Gone before they brush
gently against my soul…
access denied to hearts I love
access denied to my own soul
I’d rather drown
in my mindless space
than be anywhere today…
But life goes on..
the show excels
rave reviews of a fine performance
of having survived
Another day…
In this lifetime…

just get laid aside;
there are dreams
Beyond my today.
is survival
borne out of a defiant nudge
To circumstances…
You win some you lose some…
Life never stops its lessons anyways
and thus we go
on and on
all over again
wiping out today’s slate
ready to write a new one...

Images courtesy - Google Images
Copyright @Sandy

Soul's Light: Rising from the Ashes

"When you live from your soul, you don't try to numb yourself from life's sorrows. Nor do you become so overwhelmed by its grimness that you stay engulfed in despair. Instead, face the pain as you soothe and comfort yourself in its midst. And then let it change you, sensitize you, fill you with compassion. Know that it will open you later to deep joy."

                    Karen Katafiasz, Living From Your Soul (indiana: One Caring Place Abbey Press,2005), 5.

I've completely forgotten certain things in my life... or dismiss them altogether for the last couple of years... but there are things that cannot be overlooked... and even the Lover wants so much that the Beloved be perfect and light...and most of all, free...that He sends out people to mirror out its needs... and imperfections...

You brought that speck of light in the darkness that is covering my soul... I have ceased asking God why... I have even descended to hell... but God never gave up...

It isn't out of whim that I opt for poverty... or for the children... or fight for women's rights...

I was a victim just like any other...

I cannot fathom my body's increasing needs... that most of the times... it would affect my whole person... and give me dual personalities... i really wish to be good... but there's a thorn that keeps wounding my flesh...

I spoke to him many times... and though I tried so hard to be compassionate... it doesn't end without anger and frustration on my side... He will never change...

Answers do not come easily... I speak of forgiveness...


From the way things are going... I know who among my friends keep me fully as I am... I demanded respect... but it's something that we all have to earn...

Perhaps, that's the main reason why I stayed in the walls for so long... to protect myself...but God knows my needs better...

I do not seek to justify any of my actions...

Many ask me why LOVE to counter indifference and suffering? where is HOPE... where is justice? where is freedom?

and I see all these in the light of His paradox of living... in the Gospel tension He creates within me...

Copyright Notice

This site, the articles and the graphics on this website are © by We Have A Story and are protected by DMCA.Reproduction in whole or in part,whether on paper,on the internet,on CD-ROM or any other medium,including utilization in machines capable of reproduction without our permission is illegal and strictly prohibited.

Some photos used by our authors in their articles are from Google image search or some other sources which they like.If you think they used any copyrighted photograph,drop us an e-mail with the details and we will remove it immediately.
Recommend us!

Join We Have A Story

Recent Stories

Add to Technorati Favorites
Powered by Blogger.

Grab Our Badge

Badge Partners

When The Heart Speaks