Blog

  • The Gift

    Always grew layers of slime
    Around my attitude.
    This male species
    On the earth,
    Is good for nothing.
    I gathered this muck
    Since
    I forget to remember.

    Then I met him,
    His crystal clear
    Jet black eyes,
    Staring into mine.
    Without threatening me,
    Just staring.

    I felt his petal soft
    Warm gaze,
    On my face.
    It seems
    Some of the ice,
    Around my heart is,
    melting.

    His touch was
    Not fake,
    Absolutely unadulterated.
    Always rubs away
    Some of the layers,
    Of my slimy stance.

    His smile always
    Reaches his eyes,
    Never dries up around the corners
    Of his lips.

    His embrace,
    Hauls out an assurance,
    He will always need me
    In his life.

    His embrace
    Murmurs,
    Even when your own
    Shadow leaves you,
    You can always
    Count on me.

    My sister in law
    Worries on my each birthday,
    What gift she should
    Bought for me.
    I fail to convince her
    She has already presented me,
    The gift of my life
    My nephew.

  • Socialism

    Sometimes, going through your normal chores, you can come across an interesting analogy. If you are living in a metro, daily routine becomes everyday survival. I remember one of my office colleagues declaring, For me “Moksha” means having ample time to grab a bite,called breakfast, in the morning , and ability to regularly secure a seat in a DTC bus while commuting to and fro.” I fully empathize with her condition. One fine day, I was just having a great time surfing different TV channels. I watched MTV, Channel V, Trendz, Star World and Zee MGN, attributing few minutes to every channel. Coincidentally, that time, all the channels were showing female bodies, with trendy (read scantily clad) clothes. That reminded me of Marx and Lenin. They must be smiling, wherever they are.

    Communism and socialism aspire to see a classless, casteless society, characterized by lack of individualism. Everything has to be done for a common social cause. I saw the culmination of these principles while surfing TV. Be it MTV, Channel V, Trendz, Star World etc. The female bodies were looking as if they were freshly rolled out cars from a BMW factory. All of them were standardized to minutest details. They were exhibiting luscious pouting lips, shiny skins emerging by the usage of some magical skin toners, blusher highlighting cheekbones, mascara giving their lashes an appearance of butterfly made of cheap rubber, ridiculously similar proportion of vital statistics and gym toned bodies. Even, they had devised a standard combination for dresses and hairdo. A particular dress would be followed by a peculiar hairstyle, jewelry and sandals. It was difficult to make out who the ”artist” was till the camera showed close ups.

    I kept searching for individuality ( read capitalism) but I was consistently accosted by socialism. We read in various magazines about the centers of socialism (read cosmetic surgery clinics). Here they make sure, that you lose all the attributes of individualism and become one with masses. Esteemed newspapers screaming everyday from the sacred page three and standardizing fun, food, entertainment & parties. They are also helping us in determining whether we have arrived, by providing the barometer. If you are sinking deeply in the myriads of confusion of idea of success, please consult this page. Last time I checked, they had come out with four or five criteria. 1. Having your private jet, and yacht 2. Villas in different countries. 3. Gifting jewelry to friends. 4. Owning a Ferrari & rest I forgot.

    Each available media is standardizing all possible things. Be it success, looks, fun, holidaying, eating joints, apparels, houses, moms, dads or kids & designer marriages; socialism has spread its tentacles far and wide. The message is loud and clear. Be one of us, or risk being left alone. Who said that socialism has died from most of the countries or it is isolated and scattered? It is very mush alive and successfully breaking in, in the very heart of capitalism.

  • Beauty

    Cocooning myself
    In a moving train,
    I prepared my eyes,
    For scenic views.
    Each and every
    Nurtured and un-nurtured
    Beauty pass by, as a
    Dream sequence.
    Scorching sun was,
    Bathing the vast stretch of pastures,
    Leaving my compartment untouched,
    O! The pastures looked golden green!
    Wind was blowing
    Bending the visible foliage,
    Leaving my tresses, untangled,
    O! Stems and leaves were dancing rhythmically
    To a soundless divine tune!
    Lashing rain was,
    Falling on trees,
    Leaving my compartment un-drenched,
    O! Those trees looked mysterious.
    Impending storm was,
    Giving a royal fight, impartially,
    Threatening the existence of everything,
    O! Its so scary!

  • The Person

    I remember that day. It was September 14th, time was around 8:30 PM. I was at a dingy PCO, talking to the person, for whom I had the tenderest feeling. I loved chatting with him, sharing anything with him, unburdening myself whenever I felt like it. Though I had inkling, that today our talks might acquire a special dimension. But I was not sure. Amrit had warned me in advance, he hated emotional confusions. And if I had any special feeling for him, I must spell it out. I was expecting his questions. He kept asking about my feelings. And I kept saying; I liked him, I respected him, whenever he was happy I was floating in the air. The minute I heard his discordant notes, I was agitated like nothing. I just wanted to wipe out all his troubles, as a person wiped his sweat from forehead with a hanky. I cared for him. Etc . etc. etc. But he was not satisfied. His cynical reply was “I can say all this to Suzy” (his pet dog). In my haste, I blurted out, “OK If caring for you, being concerned with your happiness & despair, sharing almost everything with you, doesn’t mean I love you then what does it signify? Of course I love you”. Suddenly I heard the lighthearted laughter of Amrit, over the phone. And the realization dawned on me, that I had said, for the first time, what I never uttered to anyone in my entire life. Though, I dreamt of saying it to someone very special, someday, somewhere but certainly not announcing it, from dingy glass chamber of a PCO, which was overcrowded, people tapping impatiently over the door, signaling me to finish my talks soon, some eying me suspiciously. I definitely dreamt of another setting, and the person should be present in three dimensions. At least, I thought these were the minimum requirements. Till that day, we did not even have the slightest physical contact. And over a stupid instrument, holding hands was impossible. But no, nothing diminished my happiness. That phone receiver looked like the cutest thing in the world. I put it gently in the cradle and came out, engrossed in my own world, oblivious to my surroundings. I always knew, he was not a time specific, place specific, goal specific and peer pressure specific entity to me. There are billions and billions of people in this world, but for me there is only one person, Amrit. And finally, I found him. I no longer was a wanderer.

  • September 11

    Expectant faces,
    Fearful faces,
    Peeping out of windows.
    Office hours had JUST begun
    But how could life be over?
    Suddenly, definitely, precisely
    And clinically for everyone.
    We were just balancing
    The morning coffee in one hand,
    And files in another?
    A lightening struck,
    To plunge everything
    And everyone in darkness.
    Would we melt together
    With concrete and mortar?
    Was it our destiny
    To be one with steel girdles?
    And not with mother earth?
    What had we done
    In our lives,
    To not deserve a few feet
    Of the earth?
    But to evaporate
    With the vapor of morning coffee?