tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25646265902607197392024-02-07T01:38:02.537-08:00Am_kem_chhoBharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.comBlogger278125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-83169559085766000782017-02-01T20:05:00.001-08:002017-02-01T20:05:30.163-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Good for nothing<br />
<br />
It was my first flight after retirement. As I
was taking the aisle seat next to a lady, she smiled and scooped a
little towards the window. After pleasantry, <br /> She asked, "So, what do you do?"<br /> "Nothing" I said <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> "Great" she responded<br /> "My husband does the same thing."<br /> She added with a sigh.</span></div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-17016578547165460072017-02-01T20:00:00.003-08:002017-02-01T20:01:38.137-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
अलविदा<br />
<br />
पहले तो वो मेरे पास आया<br />
मुझे तो मालुम भी न पड़ा <br />
लोगों ने बताया <br />
बड़े क़िस्मत वाले हो <br />
तुम पर तो वो महेर्बां <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> हो गया <br /> छोड़कर चला गया<br /> जैसे कि आया ही नहीं</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
जब जाना कि वो कीसका<br />
ज़िक्र कर रहे थे<br />
तो मैंने सबसे कहा<br />
ठीक बात है <br />
आख़ीर जीते जी कीसीको तो <br />
मुझ पर महेर्बां होना ही था <br />
जैसे ही उम्र बढ़ती चली<br />
उसकी महेरबानीका बोझ<br />
मेहसुस होने लगा <br />
दर्दसे दबने लगा<br />
मायूसीसे चूरचूर होने लगा<br />
जो पराये थे<br />
दुआ करने लगे <br />
अपने भी <br />
वही करने लगे <br />
कोई जींदगीकी <br />
कोई मौतकी <br />
मै ने भी आवाज़ दी <br />
उसको कहा <br />
साथ ले जाना अबकी बार <br />
खाली हाथ न जाना<br />
सबको ख़ुश रखनेकी <br />
कोशिश करते करते <br />
अब मैं थक गया हुँ <br />
तूट गया हुँ<br />
वैसे भी अलविदा<br />
सब कहने <br />
बेक़रार है</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-34166993928085457332017-02-01T19:56:00.004-08:002017-02-01T19:56:32.280-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="js_rdu">
<div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_5892ad695dc000b02500784">
BIKERS FOR HILLARY?......<br />
<br /> Women's March in Washington<br /> January 21, 2017<br />
No wonder she did not win<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> I told her to wear tight jeans and fuzzy hair <br /> And she told me to tatto my arms with Clintons' faces <br /> Obviously, like Hillary, we failed to communicate<span class="_5mfr _47e3"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v7/f27/1.5/16/1f600.png" width="16" /><span class="_7oe">😀</span></span><br /> Can't get anywhere without communication...</span></div>
</div>
<div class="_3x-2">
<div data-ft="{"tn":"H"}">
<div class="mtm">
<div class="_5cq3" data-ft="{"tn":"E"}">
<a class="_4-eo _2t9n" data-render-location="timeline" data-testid="theater_link" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10207764672065687&set=a.10200363272875333.1073741825.1560385687&type=3" rel="theater" style="width: 487px;"><div class="uiScaledImageContainer _4-ep" id="u_jsonp_64_1a" style="height: 378px; width: 487px;">
<img alt="Image may contain: 2 people, people sitting and motorcycle" class="scaledImageFitWidth img" height="379" src="https://scontent-ord1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/v/t1.0-0/p600x600/16105857_10207764672065687_3082606981062352224_n.jpg?oh=25d6734e1a30424a7d836b2d4baa948d&oe=594B3704" width="487" /></div>
</a></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-63378927807565322332017-02-01T19:53:00.002-08:002017-02-01T19:53:57.415-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
સોયદોરો<br />
<br />
અડધી સદી પહેલાં મારા દાદીમા એ મને કહ્યું હતું,<br />
"સોયદોરાથી કાંઈક સાંધતાં કે ટાંકતાં શીખ. એક દિ' ખરે ટાણે કામ લાગશે" <br />
"ઈ તો બાયડીયુંનું કામ" મારી ભાગી તૂટી કાઠિયાવાડી ગુજરાતીમાં મેં એમને કહ્યું હતું એવું મને આજે યાદ આવી ગયું.<br />
આજે, મારા ટક્ષિડો ભેળા જતા ખમીશમાં બટન ટાંક્યા વિના મારી વાઈફ ધુંઆફુંઆ થતી, મને એકલો મૂકી, એની કારમાં પાર્ટી ભેળી થઇ ગઈ.<br />
મારા દાદુ મેટલના રીમુવેબલ બટન ઝભ્ભા કે ખમીસમાં કેમ નાખતા એનો ભેદ આટલા વર્ષે ખુલ્યો. એવડા ઈ જાણે કે બાયડીયુનું ગમે તે ટાણે છટકે <span class="_5mfr _47e3"><img alt="" class="img" height="16" src="https://www.facebook.com/images/emoji.php/v7/f79/1.5/16/1f61c.png" width="16" /></span></div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-78220063672830432822017-02-01T19:52:00.001-08:002017-02-01T19:52:12.783-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Only one and one for all<br />
<br />
Nature we come from and in nature
we blend in the end. We come without a religion and we are laid in rest
for the eternity without one at the end. In between, we wish ill of or
kill our fellow humans in the name of religion.<br />
<br />
We are the only
species in the nature who practice such evil trait. By doing this, we
hope to reserve a place for ourselves in the heaven. We want to be where
there is nothing but pleasure; Everyone is free of misery and suffer<span class="text_exposed_show">ings. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
In such false hope and belief, we make our life hell on this earth. We
do so not just for us but for every one else around us. Only fools will
seek salvation after death. If there is anything to be redeemed, it is
here and now....or never.<br />
<br />
We have filled the pages of history
with the stories of how goodness lying within us was plundered to please
God. God that most of us would never find or see. God that is planted
in our conscious by the powerful persuasion of those who are masters in
manipulating and controlling the weaknesses of human mind.<br />
<br />
Yes,
he does exist. Exists in the purest of the pure form. In the innocence
of a child's laughter. In the sparkle of his eyes. In his cries of help
that melts our heart. He manifests in everything we see around us in
nature. He talks to us if we listen to a stream meandering through rocky
terrain shattering boulders to tiny pebbles. He makes us feel his
presence amidst silently standing tall mountains covered with snow from
their peaks and down. He whispers and whistles through the cold breeze
of wind. He is light. He is darkness. He is thunder. He is
hurricane.....<br />
<br />
Amongst all, he is divine.. Only one and one for all. We just have to feel him in our heart and blend him in our intelligence.<br /> - Bharat Shah</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-61440316847744563752017-02-01T19:46:00.003-08:002017-02-01T19:46:53.179-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id="js_b">
The Bicycle<br />
Inspired by a father<br />
<br />
It truly had a look of an equipment that belonged in a farm. Dirty,
dusty, worn out. It's tires were bald and the tube patched up all over
to seal numerous punctures- cause of frequent inconvenience. Silver
plated rims and spokes of the wheels had lost their luster years ago.
The frame was never repainted to give it a fresh look.The model and make
logo, so proudly affixed at the strategic front and back by the
manufacturer was illegible. It was impossible to read the year it was
made in. A plastic basket was attached to the front handle. It's
original color was not recognizable. The back fender was fitted with a
goods or passenger carrier that wobbled. The seat was cushion less. It
perhaps was the oldest bicycle in the town.<br />
<br />
The last mile to
our farm was deeply rutted, narrow dirt lane flanked by bushes and
tress. A rough ride even for a newer bike. The front and back fenders
would rattle constantly. The chain covered with grease and dirt would
some times come off the big toothed wheel. The bell on its handle did
not ring, casualty of the vibrations caused by the rutted path. Sweet
sound of the ring was replaced by the shrill of whistles or soft holler
when necessary. The dynamo fitted on the back wheel was no longer
reliable to light up the path. Fortunately, the brakes were still
working.<br />
<br />
Everyday, early in the morning, before we had hardly
opened our eyes, our father would tuck his loose white shirt in to khaki
short and ride that bike two and half miles to our farm. Sweating in
the hot sun or dripping wet in the rain, he would labor hard the whole
day on that land. Then at the setting of the sun behind silver gray
clouds in the western skies, he would pedal back home carrying milk and
load of farm produce on his bicycle. Even after a dinner, his work would
continue. He would update the accounts in the books of the family
business minded by his younger brother. It would be close to midnight
before he turned in to the bed.<br />
<br />
He would break this routine only
to attend the family emergencies. I caused such break once. Playing
Cricket as a senior on the high school team, I twisted my ankle badly.
it was swollen and quite painful. Unable to carry my own body weight on
it I had to stay away from the school for couple of days for healing.<br />
<br />
On my return to school I was advised to use crutches. I tried them but
did not have upper body strength to use them effectively. I felt very
awkward and uncomfortable with them. So, he offered to drop me at the
school carrying me on the back carrier of his bicycle till I get back on
my feet. "No" was my instant response. I was horrified by the idea.<br />
<br />
I was ashamed of his bike and his work clothes. I did not want to be
seen with him or his bike. None of my classmate's dad rode such ugly and
unsightly bike. They wore traditional attire suitable to their business
with gold buttons and cuff links. White shirt made of coarse material
tucked in to Khaki shorts? I thought it was so gross and embarrassing.<br />
<br />
I just could not come to the understanding why he had to be such a
penny pincher and stingy ! It was not that we were poor. I had a sister
and brothers who had gone away to the college. They had lived in the
dorms through their college years. And he had paid for all their
expenses in full.<br />
<br />
"I will drop you a block away from your school a
little early before the bell. That would give you a head start to walk
on the crutches prior to the arrival of other kids." He modified his
offer of help without seeking any explanation for my rudeness.<br />
<br />
The rest of the final year was uneventful except I began applying for
the colleges of my choice. To everyone's pride and joy I got accepted at
my favorite technological school.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the dorm was
four miles away from the faculty of engineering and Technology. I began
to research the bus routes and schedules that would correspond with my
classes. I knew it will be inconvenient without personal transportation.
But thought that school was worth little inconvenience If I can manage
my time efficiently.<br />
<br />
Finally, that day to leave the comforts and
security of home arrived. Another boy from the family was heading to
the college. As usual, my younger sisters were very happy, my mother
misty and father as stoic as ever. Engulfed in the bitter sweet moments
of the occasion, we anxiously awaited the arrival of the taxi.<br />
<br />
It rolled in the front of our home just in time. Tied behind it was a
brand new bicycle. It's body was shining. It's rims and spokes were
sparkling over fully treaded tires. It was the best brand available in
the market at the time. I looked at my father. Could not stop tears of
joy that welled up in my eyes. I hugged him as tightly as I could. "Be
good and do well in the the college" his soft voice echoed in to my
ears.<br />
<br />
This February 2, It will be 25 years since your passing father! Pranam, Namaste. We miss you. Miss you dearly!<br />
<br />
I know he is keeping you busy up there too. And we know you are watching us from up there as always. I see you everyday too:<br />
<br />
Riding that junky bicycle in your khaki short and white shirt.<br /> -Bharat Shah</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-52704737777612886192016-04-23T08:47:00.003-07:002016-04-23T08:47:27.391-07:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
પ્રતિબિંબ<br /><br />મંદીરની સામે ખુલ્લી જગામાં મજીદે ગાડી ઉભી રાખી.<br />બા અને મંગૂએ ભેગા મળી મને નીચે ઉતાર્યો. <br />ઘણા દિવસ પછી ઘરની બહાર નીકળ્યો હતો. <br />ઠંડી હતી અને સાથે થોડો વાયરો પણ.<br />મને ખુલ્લો રેશમી સદરો અને સુંવાળો સુતરાઉ લેંઘો પહેરાવ્યા હતા. <br />પગમાં ચપ્પલ પણ કાપડના જ હતા <br />શરીરમાં ધ્રુજારી પ્રસરી ગઈ. પણ ગમી. <br />છેલ્લા ત્રણેક અઠવાડીયાની ઓરડાની એકલતા પળભરમાં વિસરાઈ ગઈ. <br />ખુલ્લી મોકળાશની ઉષ્મા મારા નબળા પડી ગયેલા ગાત્રોને વીંટળાઈ.<br />મંગૂ મારો હાથ પકડી ચાલતી હતી. ધીમે ધીમે, મારાં ડગલે ડગલે. <br />બા અમારાથી આગળ નીકળી ગઈ હતી <br />મંદીરનાં પ્રાંગણના દરવાજે પહોંચતા એ અટકી .<br />બંને હાથ જોડી, આંખ બંધ કરી થોડીક ક્ષણ ઉભી રહી. <br />ને જમીન પર ઢળી. <br />"બા" મારા મોંઢામાથી નબળી ચીસ સરી. <br />મારા પગમાં ના જાણે ક્યાંથી જોમ આવ્યું! <br />મંગૂના હાથમાંથી હાથ છીનવી બા તરફ ઝડપથી જવા મેં પ્રયાસ આદર્યો. <br />ભઈ, તમે પડશો, કહી મંગૂ તરત જ મારી પાછળ આવી. <br />ઝડપથી હાથ પકડતા, મારા હાથ પર સુકાઈ ગયેલું ભીંગડું ઉખડયું. <br />મેં ચીસ પાડી. લોહીની નજીવી ટસર એ ભીંગડામાં થી નીસરી.<br />ઓ માવડી મારી, મેં આ શું કર્યું! મંગૂ એ નીશાશો નાખી મને અટકાવ્યો. <br />ભઈ, બહુ દુખાડયું તો નથી ને? એમ પૂછી ઝડપથી એણે મારા શરીર પર નજર ફેરવી. <br />મારી નજર બા તરફ હતી. <br />એ આળોટતી આળોટતી મંદીર તરફ આગળ વધતી હતી. <br />મંગૂ, બા આ શું કરે છે? એને શું થઇ ગયું છે? તું પહેલાં એને અટકાવ. મને કઈ નથી થવાનું.<br />ભઈ, હું એવા પાપમાં ના પડું. <br />પાપ? એમાં શેનું પાપ? એને કંઈક થઇ જશે. એનું શરીર છોલાશે. હું ક્રોધથી થથરતો હતો.<br />એની બાધા મારાથી ન તોડાય. <br />શેની બાધા ?<br />તમારું શરીર તમે દરપણમાં જોયું છે?<br />ના, રૂમમાં દર્પણ જ નથી. <br />તમને આખા શરીરે અને મ્હોમાં ભારે શીતળા માતા નીકળ્યા છે. <br />જાણું છું. <br />ત્યારથી બા એ ભાત ને મીઠું છોડી એકાસણા કરી બાધા લીધી હતી.<br />કે????? <br />તમને સારું થઇ જશે, શરીર પર એક ડાઘ નહીં રહે તો એ આળોટતી આળોટતી શીતળા માતાને શરણે આવી, એની પૂજા કરી, બાધા પૂરી કરશે. <br />મેં મંદીરના પ્રાંગણમાં ફરી નજર નાખી <br />અર્ધભુખી બા જમીન પર આળોટતી આળોટતી હજુ અડધે પહોંચી હતી. <br />મન તો ઘણું થયું દોડીને એ અંધશ્રધ્ધાનો અંત લાવું. <br />એ ગાંડપણ અટકાવું. <br />પણ દોડી ના શક્યો.<br />ત્યાં જ થીજી ગયો. <br />એની મમતાને પડકારી ના શક્યો. <br />ભઈ, ધીમા ધીમા ચાલો.. તમારે પણ માના આશિર્વાદ લેવાના છે. <br />મંગૂ મને કહેતી હતી. <br /><br />વર્ષો થઇ ગયા. <br />મંગૂ ના શબ્દો આજે ય સંભળાય છે. <br />જ્યારે જયારે બાના આશિર્વાદનું પ્રતિબિંબ <br />મને દર્પણમાં દેખાય છે.</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-4055599545081662072015-12-06T09:16:00.004-08:002015-12-06T09:16:50.776-08:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}">મારી ચારે કોર ઊંચી ઊંચી દિવાલો નથી<br />એની ઉપર કાચના તીક્ષ્ણ ટુકડા જડેલા નથી<br />હું કટાઈ ગયેલ લોખંડના જાડા સળિયાઓ પાછળ બંધ નથી<br />એની બહાર પડછંદ પહેરેદારોનો પહેરો નથી<br />કે એમની પાસે વિકરાળ, લાળ લબડાવાતા<br />કુતરાઓનો કાફલો નથી.<br /><br />ના, હું નથી જેલમાં કે નથી કોઈ કાળ કોટડીમાં<br /><br />તોય મારા પગમાં બંધાઈ છે સાંકળો<br />મારા હાથમાં પડી છે બેડીઓ<br />અંત:કરણ સાથે કરેલી સમજુતીઓની<br />સમય અને સંજોગાના ઢાંચામાં ઢાળેલા સત્યની<br />પરાણે પોષી રાખેલા સંબંધોની, એમાં અટવાયેલી અપેક્ષાઓની<br />એમાં પડેલીી કે પાડેલી તીરાડોની<br /><br />એક મ્હોરુંં પહેરી ભટકું છું<br />હસતું, સ્વતંત્રતાનું</span></span></h6>
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"> </span></span></h6>
<h6 class="uiStreamMessage" data-ft="{"type":1}">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span class="messageBody" data-ft="{"type":3}"><br /><span class="text_exposed_show"></span></span></span></h6>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-2521638998843490502014-12-22T21:01:00.004-08:002014-12-22T21:04:03.738-08:00રહસ્ય<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
ડર લાગે છે બીજી આકસ્મિક મુલાકાતનો <br />
પ્રથમ સ્મિતના રહસ્યને વાગોળી જીવી લઈશ, <br />
બસ એજ</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-36933724461441239272014-12-22T20:59:00.002-08:002014-12-22T20:59:20.999-08:00સાવધાન<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
તમે તો હમણાના વિકેન્ડમાં ક્યાંય દેખાતા જ નથીને ? <br /> હા, રાહુલની રસોઈ કરવા દર અઠવાડિયે સેયરવીલ જઈએ છીએ.<br /> કેમ વહુને નથી ફાવતું ? <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> ના..ના, એ પંજાબણ, એને માંસ મચ્છી વિગેરેનો બાધ નહીં ને..<br /> બરાબર, ને આપણો રાહુલ તો નાનપણથી દેરાસર જનારો. સંસ્કારી... <br /> એટલેજ ને... મેં તો રાહુલ પાસે પહેલેથી રેફ્રીજરેટર પણ જુદું લેવડાવી દીધું છે.<br /> વહુને વાંધો નહીં? <br /> હોય તોય શું? આપણા છોકરાનું ઘર છે.<br /> વહુના માબાપ આવે તો? <br /> એમ થતું ટાળીયે. <br /> પણ ભેગા થઇ જાઓ તો? <br /> તો મેં રાહુલને કહી દીધું છે, અમારી હાજરીમાં ચીકન બીકન કે દારુ બારુ નહીં.<br /> વહુ કંઈ બોલે નહીં? <br /> કતરાય ખરી.. પંજાબી લોકો તો બોલવામાં આમેય તોછડા.<br /> પૈસા ખર્ચવામાં ય આપણા જેવા નહીં, ખરુંને? <br /> હા, લિવિંગ રુમમાં પાંચ હજારનું પેઇન્ટીગ લાવી એક ઝટકામાં લટકાવી દીધું.<br /> પાંચ હજાર? <br /> ફ્રેમના તો જુદા. <br /> તમે કઈ બોલો ના?<br /> જીવ બળે એટલે બોલ્યા વગર રહું?<br /> ને રાહુલ? <br /> એક શબ્દ ના બોલે... ના એને કંઈ કહે.. ના મને.<br /> ને નવીનભાઈ? <br /> મારી દર એક વાતમાં એમનું તો એક જ રટણ. <br /> શું? <br /> હવે આપણે સેયરવીલ જવાનું બંધ કરવું જોઈએ.<br /> ઓહ....કારણ ? <br /> નથી કે'તા.... બાપ દીકરો બેઉ મિંઢા છે.<br /> ભરત શાહ</span></div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-9476397164797891922014-12-22T20:57:00.001-08:002014-12-22T20:57:22.353-08:00Peshawar<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
खुदाभी हो गये खामोश <br /> जब पूछा <br /> एकसो बत्तीस बच्चोंे ने कयामतमें<br /> है ये किस गुनाहों की सज़ा?<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
शर्मसे निगाहें फेरी उसने शैतानकी ओर <br /> बेह रहा था खून उसकी भी आँखोसे<br /> -भरत शाह</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-12402118378437364012014-12-18T22:06:00.000-08:002014-12-18T22:06:04.761-08:00એમ કર મા<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
માણસો ગમતાં બધે ના મળે<br /> ગમ્યા કેટલાને, હિસાબ એમ કર મા<br />
મ્હોરાં મળે, ચ્હેરા બધે ના મળે<br /> ધરી આરસી, ઉપહાસ એમ કર મા<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
શબ્દો મળે, ભાષા બધે ના મળે<br /> સંસ્કારની ગ્હેરી તપાસ એમ કર મા<br />
શોર મળે, સંગીત બધે ના મળે<br /> મહેફિલમાં મન ઉદાસ એમ કર મા<br />
સૌ અધૂરાં, પૂરા ક્યાંય ના મળે?<br /> લઇ દીવો એમની તલાશ એમ કર મા<br />
જો નથી અંદર તો બ્હાર ના મળે<br /> શોધવાનો અમથો પ્રયાસ એમ કર મા<br />
ભરત શાહ</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-83098804885792550072014-12-18T22:01:00.004-08:002014-12-18T22:01:35.298-08:00રાજદીપ સરદેસાઈ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
સવારમાં પહોરમાં ઉઠી હું વાઘ બકરી ચ્હા પીઉ છું<br /> ભાવનગરી ગાંઠિયા ખાઉં છું<br /> ગુજરાત સમાચાર વાંચું છું<br /> બાસમતી ચોખાની ખીચડી લંચ બોકસમાં મુકું છું<br /> દેશમાં ફિટિંગ ખાતર સિવડાવેલું પેન્ટ પહેરું છું<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> અમદાવાદમાં પંડ્યા પાસે કરાવેલા ચશ્માં પહેરું છું<br /> દેશમાં બનાવડાવેલા મંદિરમાં પ્રાર્થના કરુ છું<br /> કારમાંથી મા ને રીલાયન્સ દ્વારા દેશમાં ફોન કરું છું<br /> ભાઈના મકાન માટે સ્ટેટ બેન્કમાંથી ચેક મોકલવાનું વચન આપું છું<br /> અમારી જમીન પર કબજો લઇ બેઠેલાઓ ના કેસ માટે વકીલની સલાહ લેવાને<br /> પૈસાની વ્યવસ્થા કરવાની પણ ગોઠવણ કરું છું<br /> ......................................................................<br /> ..............................<br /> અને આ માળો મને પૂછે છે હું<br /> અહીંથી દેશ માટે શું કરું છું<br /> હદ હોય છે બેશરમીની</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
~ <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1560385687" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810">Bharat Shah</a></div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-7991533448389752372014-12-18T21:58:00.001-08:002014-12-18T21:58:05.834-08:00કંકૂ ચાંલા ને નારિયેળ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
મજીદ, કાલે અવાશે ને?<br /> સવાલ જ નૈ ભૈ. ક્યારનું છે પ્લેન? <br /> સાંજનું...બારેક વાગે નીકળીએ. વરસાદને લીધે ખાડા ખાબોચિયાં હોય ને ટ્રાફિક પણ. <span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> કેટલા આવવાના મુકવા? ને બેગ? મોટી ગાડી લાવું ને? <br /> કોઈ જ નહીં. એકલો જ છું. બેગ પણ એક જ છે. નાની મારુતી ચાલશે.<br /> તો, મરિયમ ને મેહ્જબિનને લઇ મોટી ગાડી સાથે આવીશ.<br /> જરૂર નથી. આખા દિવસની રખડપટ્ટી કરવાની. </span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
ભૈ, પહેલીવારના ગયા તારે મારી ઘોડાગાડીમાં રેલવે ટેશન ગયા'તા.<br /> આખું ગામ આયું'તું વળાવવા. મરિયમે પણ તમને કંકુ ચાંલા કર્યા'તા <br />
તો?<br /> તો આજે પણ કંકુ ચાંલા એ જ કરશે. અમદાવાદ એરપોર્ટ પર.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-50825468210169846462014-12-18T21:55:00.004-08:002015-12-06T07:35:04.238-08:00પાનખર<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
રમણભાઈએ ડાક્ટર પંડિતના ડ્રાઈવેમાં વાન વાળી. <br />
એ વિશાળ ઘરની સામે સરોવર હતું. પાછળ પણ.<br />
પાછળ ડાકમાં બાંધેલી બોટ પાનખરના પવનમાં ડગમગ થતી હતી.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br /> વૃકશો પર ખરવાને એક પણ પાંદડું બાકી રહ્યું ન હતું.<br /> ઉડતું નિરીક્ષણ કરી એમણે ડોરબેલ વગાડયો.<br /> ઓહો, રમણભાઈ, આજે શનિવારે? પંડિતે આવકાર આપતાં પૂછ્યું. <br /> હા, નિર્મળાબાનો સંદેશ હતો મારા ફોન પર.<br /> સિનિયર સીટીઝનોની તમારી સેવાને દાદ આપું છું.<br /> શરીર સારું રાખ્યું છે તેથી ઈશ્વર કૃપાએ થાય એટલું કરું છું. <br /> બા પૂજામાં છે. એટલી વાર કંઈ ચાહ નાસ્તો?<br /> ના, કંઈ નહીં. કારમાં મંદિરની યુવક કમિટીનો પરાગ બેઠો છે. એને અંદર બોલાવું? <br /> હા, હા, જરૂર.... જુઓ, બા પણ આવી ગયા. </span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
રમણભાઈ, પરાગને જરા કહોને કે મારા સુવાના ઓરડામાંથી મારી બે બેગ લઇ આવે.<br />
બે બેગ? રમણભાઈ, આ વખતે સિનિયર સિટીઝનોને કોઈ લાંબા પ્રવાસે લઇ જાઓ છો કે શું? <br />
એ નથી લઇ જતા. હું જાઉં છું. <br />
ક્યાં ? <br />
શાંતિવન, ફ્લોરીડા.<br />
પેલા વૃધ્ધાશ્રમમાં? એકાએક નક્કી કરી દીધું?<br />
ના ભાઈ, તમે ચાર ભાઈઓ એમના દસમા શ્રાદ્ધ વખતે ભેગા થયા ત્યારથી વિચારતી હતી.<br />
એવું તે શું થયું તે સમયે? <br />
બસ, એમણે મને કહ્યું કુટુંબમાં શાંતિ રાખવાની બધી જવાબદારી તારી છે.<br />
તે ઉપરાંત, મારી પાનખરને અહીની ઠંડક રાસ આવે એમ લાગતું નથી.<br />
-ભરત શાહ</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-91133895138948048622014-12-18T21:52:00.004-08:002014-12-18T21:52:28.346-08:00Peshawar Terror <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
खुदाभी हो गये खामोश <br /> जब पूछा <br /> एकसो बत्तीस बच्चोंे ने कयामतमें<br /> है ये किस गुनाहों की सज़ा?<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
शर्मसे निगाहें फेरी उसने शैतानकी ओर <br /> बेह रहा था खून उसकी भी आँखोसे<br /> -भरत शाह</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-41553731794603038312014-10-07T20:10:00.000-07:002014-10-07T20:10:22.356-07:00Culture<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_6a _6b">
<h5 class="_5pbw" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}">
<div class="fwn fcg">
<span class="fwb fcg" data-ft="{"tn":";"}"><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1560385687&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22nf%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810?fref=nf">Bharat Shah</a></span></div>
</h5>
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/4103044465358"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1357412482" title="Saturday, January 5, 2013 at 2:01pm">January 5, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
</div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
One
does not have to be too arrogant about his/her own culture not to learn
something from other cultures which can make him/her a better human
being. Old is gold, but not always. Even a flower loses its fragrance
with time.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-81496436155111097602014-10-07T20:04:00.001-07:002014-10-07T20:04:47.047-07:00મારી વાઈફ<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/4207310271938"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1359312765" title="Sunday, January 27, 2013 at 1:52pm">January 27, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
મારી વાઈફ બહુજ હેલ્થ કોન્સીયસ છે<br /> પરણ્યો ત્યારે પંચ્યાસી પાઉન્ડની હતી<br /> અત્યારે એકસો ને પંચ્યાસી પાઉન્ડની છે<br /> તો...ય કોન્સીયસ છે</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-63128218835499610002014-10-07T20:01:00.003-07:002014-10-07T20:01:26.042-07:00Girl Child<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_6a _6b">
<h5 class="_5pbw" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}">
<div class="fwn fcg">
<span class="fwb fcg" data-ft="{"tn":";"}"><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1560385687&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22nf%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810?fref=nf">Bharat Shah</a></span></div>
</h5>
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/4594260505452"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1364511296" title="Thursday, March 28, 2013 at 6:54pm">March 28, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
</div>
To
all the men who are against killing a girl child in mother's womb, I
tell them, just have them and tell your parents "it is not her fault
that she is carrying a girl child, it is my fault".<br />
And if you can not have a child, adopt a girl child. And if you can not adopt, help educate at least one.<br />
By pass the slogans and all the girl organizations. Just do something on your own for a girl child.<span class="text_exposed_show"><br />
If one man saves one girl, all the girl children in the world would be
saved without the help of politicians, Pundits and social organizations.</span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
Just remember, your mother was a girl a long time ago.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-54477962740637283882014-10-07T19:58:00.001-07:002014-10-07T19:58:34.597-07:00Silence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_6a _6b">
<h5 class="_5pbw" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}">
<div class="fwn fcg">
<span class="fwb fcg" data-ft="{"tn":";"}"><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1560385687&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22nf%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810?fref=nf">Bharat Shah</a></span></div>
</h5>
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/4719248270068"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1367083007" title="Saturday, April 27, 2013 at 1:16pm">April 27, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
</div>
My wife and I have a bet. Whoever "shuts up" the longest gets to rule the home.<br />
Today is the 132nd lawless day in our home. <br />
And our home is heaven.<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
Bharat Shah</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-58597429744167485942014-10-07T19:55:00.002-07:002014-10-07T19:55:59.655-07:00Life<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/10200106938067123"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1372886137" title="Wednesday, July 3, 2013 at 5:15pm">July 3, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
Life
is not a race. However, you must continue to move forward. Like river,
through soft soil and solid rocks. Meander or merge if you must. But
never surrender.<br /> bds</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-64849664368581964772014-10-07T19:55:00.000-07:002014-10-07T19:55:43.070-07:00Cardiac Arrest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/10200181437969574"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1374151088" title="Thursday, July 18, 2013 at 8:38am">July 18, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
On
Friday, June 14, 2013, I suffered a cardiac arrest and I was lucky to
survive. I share my experience wishing none of you have to use lessons
learned from it for you or your loved ones. I am doing well now. <br />
1. The pain started in chest and then gradually spread to my neck,
shoulder and jaws. I did not feel pain in either of my arms. <br />
2.
My first reaction to this pain was to ignore it, then consider it to be
heart burn. I drank two glasses of ENO, Indian version of Alka Se<span class="text_exposed_show">ltzer. The relief I felt lasted for very short time. </span><br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
3. A visit to a bathroom did not help much. <br />
4. I did dress up thinking I might have to go to the hospital but then decided to lie down for a while in the bed instead.<br />
5. Around 9:00 PM I woke up. The pain had reached my jaws and now I
knew it was different from what I had ever experienced before. <br />
6. I drove to the hospital about three miles from my apartment.<br />
7. I was taken to the emergency room immediately and instructed to take my shirt off. <br />
8. I passed out right after that and do not remember what happened till I regained consciousness.<br />
9. I Was told later that they had to shock me to revive my heart as it had lost its rythem. <br />
10. I was also told that the outcome would have been different if the
episode had happened at home or I was little late reaching the hospital.<br />
Advice I received from the medical staff:<br />
1. If you feel chest pain, do no take chances . Call 911<br />
2. Do not drive yourself. You are endangering life of others besides yours. <br />
3. Keep aspirin easily accessible and take few before help comes. <br />
4. Inform neighbor or friend immediately also<br />
5. Talk to your physician and learn more about heart disease, its symptoms and act accordingly if need arises.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-16218744793505879092014-10-07T19:51:00.002-07:002014-10-07T19:51:51.725-07:00Afghanistan<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810/posts/10200239620384098"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1375053387" title="Sunday, July 28, 2013 at 7:16pm">July 28, 2013</abbr></a></span></span> · </div>
There are certain realities in this world that do not need research, expert analysis or advice. <br />
1. Afghanistan would not be a democratic country for at leastnext 50
years. US should stop spending tax payers money there. In order to
control terrorism, continue using unmanned air crafts to bomb suspected
terrorist hide outs, strengthen anti terrorist laws in the US and spend
more money tracking suspected terrorists within the US and outside of
it. <br />
2. Islam and democracy have<span class="text_exposed_show">
yet to develop relationship and they are long way from beginning to
date. So, think carefully before investing lots of money in any regime
perceived to be leaning towards democracy. Enough money is wasted after
removal of Sadaam, Mubarak, Quadaafy, possibly Assad and others. Use
that kind of money to develop weapons that can remotely remove threats
to the US Interests</span></div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-14395764765254571242014-10-07T19:50:00.002-07:002014-10-07T19:50:14.861-07:00Butler<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10200396721711533&set=a.10200396688630706.1073741826.1560385687&type=1" rel="theater"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1377362247" title="Saturday, August 24, 2013 at 12:37pm">August 24, 2013</abbr></a> · <a class="_5pcq _20y0" data-appname="iOS" data-gt="{"appid":"213546525407071","fbsource":"703","ref":"nf_generic","type":"click2canvas"}" href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.apple.com%2Fios%2F&h=QAQHiKaOM&s=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><span><span></span>iOS</span></a></span></span> · </div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
On
my way to see "Butler". If you think I was the only one in the theater,
you are almost right. I did have my daughter with me. I wanted her to
know how life is so different from San Francisco. When people go to the
cities, they take pictures of skyscrapers. Here she snapped pictures of
old downtown, more than 100 years old and pictures of homes she never
thought actually existed in America.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2564626590260719739.post-56454364421338380242014-10-07T19:47:00.002-07:002014-10-07T19:47:14.482-07:00Galveston TX<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="_6a _6b">
<h5 class="_5pbw" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}">
<div class="fwn fcg">
<span class="fwb fcg" data-ft="{"tn":";"}"><a data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1560385687&extragetparams=%7B%22fref%22%3A%22nf%22%7D" href="https://www.facebook.com/bdshah810?fref=nf">Bharat Shah</a></span></div>
</h5>
<div class="_5pcp">
<span><span class="fsm fwn fcg"><a class="_5pcq" href="https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?fbid=10200643461479873&set=a.10200396688630706.1073741826.1560385687&type=1" rel="theater"><abbr class="_5ptz" data-shorten="1" data-utime="1381630442" title="Saturday, October 12, 2013 at 10:14pm">October 12, 2013</abbr></a> · <a class="_5pcq _20y0" data-appname="iOS" data-gt="{"appid":"213546525407071","fbsource":"703","ref":"nf_generic","type":"click2canvas"}" href="http://l.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.apple.com%2Fios%2F&h=zAQGTHiCD&s=1" rel="nofollow" target="_blank"><span><span></span>iOS</span></a></span></span> · </div>
</div>
<div class="_5pbx userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">
Always
wanted to stand by the shore of Galveston TX, a city practically wiped
out in the great storm of 1910 and rose from the devastation caused by
the ferocity of the ocean, now tamed by long sea wall.</div>
</div>
Bharat Shahhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11774437853255457988noreply@blogger.com0