Tagophobia, Fear of being tagged...

Here is a post on the concept and practice of "User-Tagging" in blogger.

Tagging in general is a way of classifying and organizing information. Sometimes just one person does it and at other times it is done by a community(social tagging).

Coming to the concept of a blog - Tagging is an act of categorizing blog posts with simple key words or phrases. Well yes, labeling blog posts according to their content. Many bloggers use this tagging facility to get their content be found in search results by people who are searching for a particular topic.

But after joining blogger, I got introduced to a new kind of practice - user-to-user tagging. Now from here, all I would like to talk is about the “User-Tagging Practice”.

Are you user-tagophobic? Are you repellent towards user-tagging in blogger?

Do you feel like running away when you are tagged by a fellow blogger?

If your answer to any of the questions is yes, then just express your opinion openly that you are not interested in tagging. User-tagging is nothing but a way of interaction between a circle of friends in blogger. Why should one feel it as a punishment or a compulsion?

For all those who love privacy and like to keep their lives private, I agree that doing a tag is the most annoying thing.But please understand that those who tag you are your friends.

And friend is a person with whom you dare to be yourself...

Don’t you think a friend can understand when you make it clear about your intentions that tagging makes you feel inconvenient?

Cheer up my dear; it is just like a simple friendly game with no restrictions. So, participate only if you feel the idea is interesting or simply stay untouched by saying a good ‘No’.

Blogging is but being yourself, the way you like and all of us bloggers belong to one family…

Soul of Love...

I’m a soul full of love,

I love those who love me,

I love those who hate me,

I love those who help me,

And I love those who spoil me.



I love the orphan children down the street,

I love the weak old beggar at the traffic signal,

I love the physically challenged intelligent souls,

I love the mentally challenged innocent souls,

And I love the starving souls which are ready to die.



I love you when you talk to me,

I love you when you go against me,

I love you when you decide to kill me,

I love you as you read this line now,

And I love you after you finish with this line.



Are you ready, shall we join hands?

To do our bit for the cause of society,

To make a difference in someone’s life,

And work towards exit of the word ‘poverty’,

From the dictionary of this poverty-stricken world.

Happy Father’s Day…

Wishing a very “Happy Father’s Day” to all the readers of Beyond Barriers…

Father’s day celebrations include - surprising gifts, greeting cards, bouquets, cakes, playing games, singing, dancing, throwing a big party tonight, etc – yes, they are all part and parcel of this special occasion.

But before the celebrations start, we need to spend some time with our fathers. This is the idea which I personally follow :

Take your Dad's hands into yours, look into his eyes and say, “Dear, you are a gem of a father, you made me what I am today, you are the best; I love you Dad and I’m proud to be your child.” Plant your kisses on both of your Dad's cheeks, hug him tightly to wish him a very “Happy Father’s Day”.

We should not let opportunities slip through our fingers, we should make use of them to express our love to those who really matter to us, those who are very close to our heart. They should know how much they mean to us and that we always care for them.

So, make the most of this Father's day to love your Dad...

Yummy Mangoes…

Mango is the king of fruits and people enjoy ripe and raw mangoes alike but here I like to talk about a yummy mango.

I'm slowly savouring the lip-smacking slices of a yummy mango and every bite leaves me with a rich new luscious taste making me forget the flavour of the previous bite I took.

What can be said about a ripe juicy mango? It just rules over our senses – sweet, mouth-watering, delicious, fleshy, sugary, delectable, syrupy, succulent…

Well instead of lining up a set of synonyms together, I wonder if one can ever capture the true taste of a yummy mango in words…

Sweet mangoes are consumed in a variety of ways like slices, juice, milk shake, puddings, tarts, jelly, cakes, marmalade, etc. Now tell me which is your favourite way of enjoying a juicy mango?

So when was the last time you ate a really yummy mango?

Lonely Old Man... (Part 2)

Dear Reader, this post is the remaining half of “Lonely Old Man…”, yes it's the other half of my conversation with the old man.

After a short while, the old man finished crying, he spoke out, “I lived a life full of happiness, I had a beautiful and a very understanding wife and we were blessed with three sons and two daughters”.

“I was a cheerful but disciplined man, a government employee. I gave my children good education and the best comforts of life. I was very proud the day they got into dignified jobs, married and settled happily.”

“In those days, people around us who watched me and my wife play with our cute little grandchildren used to envy our happiness. Many of our relatives, friends and colleagues used to say that I have all the joy in this world and they wished to have lived a life similar to mine.”

Now he looked into my eyes and said, “Boy, all my life was heaven, I never knew then that there is hell waiting for me in my old age, I should have planned my life in a better way”. The old man gave a pause, so I spoke now, “But grandpa, you can still live a life of joy, yes I mean, continue living in the heaven”.

He instantly rejected my idea, “It’s all over son, people see me differently now, I’m just an old piece of scrap, they are eagerly waiting for my death so that they can relieve themselves from the responsibility of feeding and taking care of me. When I was young, I never treated my father or grandfather in this way, I always respected and loved them, I taught my children the same but they never learnt it".

“When my own children become old and face the darkness of four-walled closed rooms with painful health problems and loneliness, that day they will understand what their father went through and how much pain he felt when he was neglected”.

“Six months I live here, yes your friend’s father is my eldest son and six months I live with my middle son whose house is in the outskirts of this same city. My youngest son lives far away in Delhi but I’m too weak now for my age to travel long distances and adjust to live in a new place.”

“My two elder sons feel their aged father as a huge burden for them and they are angry on their youngest brother for living far away, safe and sound without sharing any responsibilities. And my two son-in-laws are worthless, they never respect me and they never allow my daughters or their children to visit me”.

The old man continued, “After my wife died four years ago, I had lost all the hope of my life, she was everything to me and when she was around, all my children gave both of us a lot of respect, but since her death, my sons started quarrelling over my property.”

“Unable to bear the quarrel, I legally distributed all my possessions to my sons. They acted so loving and affectionately in those days that I didn't put aside even a single penny for myself and signed off everything on their names."

"But little did I realize then, that I was doing the biggest mistake of my life”.

“That one big mistake of mine is killing me every day. I repent every minute, every second for giving everything away. Those were all my hard earned assets which I earned in a fair way spending every drop of my sweat wisely."

He concluded the conversation, "After willingly giving away such valuable treasure, even those street dogs would have been more loyal to me than these sons of mine, who carry my blood”.

Would street dogs be more loyal than his own children ?

It is a sign of - a completely broken heart…

Lonely Old Man...

Today, I visited one of my friends house; his grandpa, a man in his late eighties, sat alone in the veranda told me that my friend along with his family went on a tour and will be back in a week.

When I was about to leave, the old man said, “Boy, would you mind spending a few minutes talking to me?” I saw very lonely expressions in his eyes, his wife died few years ago and maybe he is still not able to come to terms. Without a word I went and sat down in the chair beside him.

“Among all my grandson’s friends, you are the only one who gives respect to me, do you really respect me or is it just for formality sake?”

I was surprised why he got such a strange doubt. I took his hands into mine and said, “Grandpa, I really respect you straight from my heart”. He fired another question, “Will you attend my funeral the day I die?”

Now I was totally shocked, “Why do you ask such questions, is everything ok?” He just repeated the same question, I said, “You are a very good and a kind man whom I respect a lot, and so I’ll definitely attend”.

Another question followed, “On that day, will you care to donate one drop of your tear for the sake of my soul?”. I said, “Yes I will, but here, look into my eyes and just tell me the reason, what is wrong with you?”. He never looked into my eyes but started crying so loudly that he was unable to breathe.

After a minute, he spoke slowly, “I’m all alone son, if you really mean what you said just now, you will be the only person who cries the day I die because I’m seriously unwanted by everyone around me”. He continued crying…

Those words created echoes in my heart and gave ripples to my soul…

Mother, you are Special...

My dear Mother, for few minutes just leave the world aside and visit Beyond Barriers… to read this post, written especially to surprise you and give me a chance to explain you how unique and special you are to me…

In this post, I express my love for you; that I feel very proud to be born as your son; you should know how much I admire you and consider you as the most ideal mother in this world.

In my childhood, Papa repeatedly warned you, “Stop pampering our son to that extent, you will end up spoiling him”. But you always showed confidence in me by saying, “He is too humble, honest and well-mannered for his age. I trust my blood, he can never become bad”. I’m proud today to have lived up to all your expectations my dear mother and made every word of yours true...

Though you explained me about the good and the bad, you still gave me the choice to pick my own interest. I went on to choose the right path and so I express my gratitude my dear mother, for the freedom you always give me.

I forced you many a time to lose your temper dear, but you always maintained your cool. Hats off to your infinite patience my dear mother; you never scolded me in my life; you did not slap me even once since I was born, so kind you were dear. Let every mother take you as an example and let every child be blessed like me.

I will call the world to crown you as the best mother; I will write poems expressing my love and gratitude for you; I will write your biography and distribute free copies to every mother; but whatever I may do, I know that I can never repay you back for giving this immeasurable gift of birth to my soul…

You have shown the world around you a new way to bring up children by not only pampering me but by even teaching me good behavior, morals, habits and manners; not by scolding or slapping but just with your kind motherly love.

You are one of the best moms in this world; you are very unique and very very special… love you my dear mother...

Boxing on The Road…

A speeding truck hit a luxury sedan car from behind, crushing the right side rear portion of the car leaving a huge dent and smashing all the indicator lamps into tiny fragments.

A man furiously stepped out of the car, got into a heated argument with the truck driver and they started hitting each other like hooligans. The skinny traffic constable with a newly appointed look on his face was shouting madly into his walkie-talkie for support.

The road resembled a boxing ring with two finalists in their last round for the world championship title. The constable was the referee and the people caught in traffic jam were silent spectators with eagerness in their expressions to see who is going to win the title.

My cousin remained seated behind me as we both were hardly a few yards away from the accident spot and the ongoing fight. He said, “Well, this looks so weird; everyone is having fun by watching the fight, why doesn’t anyone step forward to stop them?”

I responded, “Man, shall we both give a try? Maybe together we can possibly stop them; the problem here is who can take the first initiative, I’m sure the others will join hands to stop this drama and clear the traffic.”

He caught hold of my hand, “Are you crazy? If we go there, we may even get hit by one of them. Do you think it’s a joke to stop two men who are fighting like dogs on the road?”

We heard the siren of the traffic monitoring jeep, the lonely traffic constable got back a new life as all his prayers into the walkie-talkie were finally answered. Within half-an-hour the traffic got cleared allowing us to breathe fresh air again.

My cousin cautioned, “Better let your idea of stopping a fight remain just an idea. Dude, it’s easier to expose guts by talking something brave but its never a cake walk to face harsh realities in life, so don’t ever dare to think of implementing such ideas in future”.

Wishes for my dear Mother...

Wishes for my dear Mother...

Wish every morning in your life be a spring morning Ma,
With fresh soothing breeze gently touching your cheeks...


Wish every noon in your life flow like a sparkling river Ma,
With your shining pearl like eyes singing melodious songs...


Wish every evening in your life be a golden evening Ma,
With the fragrance of blooming jasmines filling your lungs...


Wish every night in your life be a full moon night Ma,
With the cool moonlight carrying peaceful heavenly dreams...

Sunset by the Lake...

I sat alone on a bench, located by the side of the silent and secluded lake as sun is about to set, marking the end of this day.

I carried with me a bag full of experiences and emotions, some joy and some sorrow which I collected restlessly all through the day.

Now as I relax to refresh my mind, I could hear silence around me and even its loud echo…

As the lake stared at me with wide unblinking eyes, I was struck dumb;

I felt like smiling… But there are no more smiles left for this day as I gave away all my smiles to the orphan children down the street this morning…

I felt like laughing… But there are no more laughs left for this day as I lavishly spent them during the lunch hour with friends…

I felt like crying… But all my tears are still at my home, safely locked in my cupboard; I forgot to carry them along with me when I left home this morning…

As the sun set slowly, the lake continued to stare at me, hoping that I will respond…

I remained silent - " expressionless… "

Welcome Monsoon...

Summer season in India is almost packing its bags for a vacation as rainy season is ready to join the duty.

The spongy white rabbit is eagerly waiting for the first drop of rain from the sky…

Where are the rains... Where are the cool rains...

The new born puppy asked his mother, “How does rain look like Mama?”

His mother replies, “My dear puppy, this is going to be your first rainy season, you know the rain drops look like pearls, have little patience, the cool rains are almost here”.

The cool rains are already on their way so the celebrations began…

The frogs are bursting with joy as they watch the peacocks dance to the tunes of parrots and pigeons…

The sparrow's family visited the dove’s nest this evening and they just began singing in chorus and announcing in loud jubilant voices the arrival of rainy season...

A herd of deer is playing a game of hide and seek as the eagle gives effortless smiles watching them from high above…

Come cool rains, come and wet the parched lands which were burned down by the scorching summer heat and touch the hearts of people…

Are you ready to taste the fresh sweet drops of the first rain?