Books by Sandeep Dahiya

A Half House
https://www.amazon.in/A-half-house/dp/8193238206

Chimp, Champ and Chops
https://www.amazon.in/Chimp-Champ-and-Chops/dp/8193238222

Beyond and Beneath
https://www.amazon.in/Beyond-and-Beneath/dp/8193238214

Lost in Red Mist
https://www.amazon.in/Lost-Red-Mist-First-2017/dp/9386148269

Ice Cubes on Desert Sands
https://www.amazon.in/Cubes-Desert-Sands-sandeep-dahiya/dp/B07MFBCM7S

Love: The Ultimate Alchemy
https://www.amazon.in/Love-Ultimate-Alchemy-Sandeep-Dahiya/dp/9389600251

Faceless Gods
https://www.flipkart.com/faceless-gods/p/itm9789384049355?pid=9789384049355&lid=LSTBOK9789384049355BZIPBV&marketplace=FLIPKART&pageUID=1579776998970

The Night Sun
https://shop.24by7publishing.com/product/the-night-sun-by-sandeep-dahiya/

Mind over Matter

Matter-like behaviour is a property of the cosmic mind, the universal intelligence throbbing as the energy. Mind, universal collective consciousness, is the primary cosmic constituent. The so called matter is merely a manifestation of it, just a dependent property. Had it been the reverse, i.e., mind-type behaviour of matter, we surely would require the basic, unbreakable, having intrinsic properties, building blocks in terms of atomic and subatomic particles. But as we see it, subatomic particles have no intrinsic value and properties independent of the observer. With matter first, and mind just its behaviour, eternity would be mathematically impossible. However, a fundamental entity in the form of cosmic mind leaves an open ended, ever evolving field for the manifestation of matter in countless ways over eternal paths of creation. Simply because there is no intrinsic property or value to define and limit the material manifestation. Call it the cosmic energy or the cosmic mind. It's a dimenaionless plane where any kind of material dimension is possible to draw out of nothingness. The limitless canvas. Wipe it, draw another. On and on. Is there any limit to imagination? No. Same is the case with cosmic mind's imagination. Eternal are its horizons.

He has the last laugh--consciously, by choice

So who has the last laugh? The winters have been unprecedented. Horrific. Cold has slayed soots and saplings with its unsparing frosty sword. 'Had all your wrath poured out, fella?' this garden cactus asks. Irrespective of the severe damage, it decides to retain its smile. Its smile overcomes the frosty burns. Happiness is a choice. A conscious effort, independent of so many external factors that we presume to be finally decisive for our happiness!

Kabadis in the Space

Unmanned Landers landing on the moon have a coating of previous metals like gold. This moon-scrap goes into the value of billions of dollars. In the near future, it will open a new vista for high tech kabadis, the swanky version of our humble neighborhood scrap dealer. America with its 40 years advancement in space technology over its nearest rival will gain the most out of this new business stream. Scrap dealers in America listening? In order to avoid scrap clashes in future, there should be a treaty by which the owner country will retain the rights over the space scrap. Mankind is ever ready to fight over any type of issues. So when we will wipe out all contestable things on mother earth, we will enlarge the domain of quarrels, taking into space. So it's high time we fix it now itself. Let's agree on the principal that 'bhai mera kabad mera hi rahega'. Means, I retain the right to my scrap, wheresoever it may land up! Something is better than nothing. We will have at least one reason less to fight.

A moment captured in the hills

Life and living losing footing amidst the smoke of hate, greed, anger, ambition and jealousy. More than the carbon bugs chucking out air, it will be the nefarious exhausts from evil human minds that will turn mother earth unlivable during the coming decades. But in the unconcerned vales, the mountain eagle is gliding effortlessly,--

The mountain eagle flying

in splendor and ecstasy,

Its unquenchable tempests

creating airy firmament,

But does this fraction of reality

possess anything good for the prey as well?

The prey, the little mouse is tucked in a little corner in the hills. It’s a flimsy covering, a roof of cobwebs and dew clinging to it. The little creature is sipping the night’s nectar. Watery beads. Jewellery of leaves. A little piece set-up by the free-flowing spontaneity of the existential force. And the larger of life and living meandering through it. Has the eagle spotted it? It seems to have!