Sunday, December 6, 2009

Ready to be Seh-whacked..

Exactly 17 years ago, our country was at the perils. A lot of time has been consumed since then to dissect the very motive of the act. People were devoured, not Hindus and Muslims. And we can't seem to look any further after this black hole was created. I am not going to side with any particular school of thought nor am I going to dedicate this write-up to delve deep into the heinous intent of either parties. I just hope that we are allowed to live our lives as happily as anyone could imagine!
Thinking of happy moments, I would depart to a different territory altogether. To unite whole of India into making that collective encore is indeed a difficult task, but we had again found a man to do this last Thursday. Those who have been privy to my intentions about this man would have guessed what I mean. I have already devoted my time to write on him in the past and it doesn't hurt me even a bit to do that again.
Virender Sehwag did it again! And in what style? Nepolean was notorious for having been known for not having a word like "impossible" in his dictionary. The world has advanced a lot since his times, and Viru has deliberately left a few words out of his dictionary. And those of the like fear, remorse and normal never intend to return! A man is known by his deeds. But Sehwag is known for what he doesn't do! Least respect for the spinners, utter contempt for fast bowlers, not bothering for reputation and the ilk - very tough for the lesser mortals to even think or visualize. This write-up vindicates the confidence shown in him by this cricket crazy nation and my opinion about him which has never dwindled even when he was going through a rough phase in his life. He is knocking at the doors of the conglomeration of records which in all possibility will be owned by him by the time he retires. He is knocking at the doors of greatness, an enchanting spell which will be cast upon the lovers of this game, a whiff of fresh air for the asphyxiated protectors of the 5 day game and for the pure connoisseurs, who will skip a breath or two when they sit down to taste vintage Sehwag. As a certain "bradmanesque" goes for the Don, we have already displayed our wits by approbating the appellation "Seh-whack" on him. To even get to know that you have managed to let yourself be spoken in the same breadth as the Don himself should be a graduation in itself. And the list of laurels doesn't end at this. The swagger which I have spoken about in one of my paeans for him has already been in the news now with him being compared to the great Sir Vivian Richards.
So, as an average Indian, does it satiate me to see all these laurels coming his way? The answer is a simple and plain - "NO". I won't be satisfied if he is labelled as someone who could rise up the rungs only to occupy a seat next to Sir DON or Sir Vivian. I may sound a bit presumptuous, but that's not what "Seh-whack" is capable of achieving. He is on the cusp of being the greatest entertainer the world has ever seen, a player who can still pull in the masses to see the players go through the motions and more importantly, a player who is unimaginable! We have already seen a Don. We have already seen a GOD. But we want to see something which has never been there before, who can outsmart our unending desire for a greater icon, one who can make us think, as to what to call a player of his caliber. That's when Sehwag would have done justice to himself and to this starry-eyed cricket fraternity which always keeps looking for the ONE who can help this game sustain a bit longer, long enough to last our lifetime and be a source of mirth hard to find even in the remotest corners of this universe.
My wish-list:
4 triple centuries, 1 score of around 400, a double hundred in ODIs...and the list goes on. It's really a pain to be a cricketer in India, with even reasonable fans like me falling for the "I-need-more" syndrome.

Realm of defiance

21st century was always supposed to be a century of change. A change from the hackneyed customs, tried and tested solutions and most importantly, that of the psyche which will constitute the better part of the evolving thought process. What transpired in the times bygone seem to be of little importance these days! We are lucky to have survived to witness the change - the rebellion which is still being conjured by inquisitive minds. It may sound a bit disparaging to the champions of orthodox thinking, but the truth is fast manifesting itself into a notion of the future. I am given to understand that such a change is never meant to look unprecedented, and thus, requires a free mind to arrange the disparate pieces into one. I for one, may have been bred on fundamentally diverse values, but will never shirk away from acknowledging the advent of a new conduct at my door steps.
To break free from shackles has always been an arduous task. And the whole problem takes an interesting dimension when you have to get rid of a huge monkey off your back. You might get regaled with queries bordering on the validity of the rationale behind bringing a change. You may have to ready yourself to face a few embarrassing questions on why you have decided to cling onto something conspicuously so idiotic! But the consummation of a path never tread before with a great resolve is the way forward for Gen-X. The ubiquitous presence of the carriers of a brand new message amongst us is reflective of the soon-to-be-understood writing on the wall. The daggers are already out and we don't even flinch a wee bit to flout the hitherto holier-than-thou rigmarole of morality . Fingers have been used constructively to define our future, to influence and kindle young minds and to give shape to our future. Of the bunch of those fingers adorning our adroit hands, the middle finger is out in all its resplendence to mock at the very virtues of a highly placed moral ground. Of all the myriad words which Cambridge takes a lot of pains to insert in their lexicons, "WTF" and "WTH" seem to be our favourite choices.
A whole new debate will rage on this developing oddity, but nobody doubts that it's here to stay. The seed has already been sown in our young minds and we are continuing to nurture it. Some boundaries were never supposed to be transgressed. But this generation had already rejected the mandatory compliance of having to "step into someone's shoes" long back. We begin our journey from where we want and not where we are supposed to! We are already gyrating through that change and a new set up is bound to evolve. Rather than trying to put barricades in the path of this juggernaut, we would do well to consider the importance of its arrival and respect all the harbingers of this change.

To hell with the plan, to hell with the clan
I am a man of my own principles, I say that with élan
Don't preach what I must do
because we don't like when you say - "you must do what we do"!

Sunday, November 15, 2009

When 10 crossed 20!

Those for whom the paths were laid
The twinkle in eyes, the lights never fade
To enrich many lives they adorn this abode
to instil faith and that timeless goad!

Sometimes you wish you could do more. More in your capacity to admire and the enthusiasm to follow. You could do more than just marvel. And you could do more than just sings paeans or just write.
I could realise that through an epiphany, when the bhakt inside me was all too ready to elevate his deity. The nothingness of the motif had already cast its spell. And that's why I am going to stop. No amount of words can exemplify the kind of effect he has had on a whole generation, the generation I was a part of. So, it's better be left unspoken and rather be felt to absorb its real essence.

Long live the master.

Saturday, November 14, 2009

An Ode to the heretic!!

Here's a long lost crappy creation of mine which I found accidently browsing through my mails. I hope it will bring a smile on your face. :)

O sehwag, what a swagger
nothing stops you from flaying with your dagger
seldom do we find you in a sombre mood
hunting always, you make bowlers brood
there was a time you were not in the team
then there was a talk how to tackle seam
and you arrived one day, with all your vigor
made them pant and made them simmer
Legacy of yours is hard to die
the talk is on to get your eye
The way you bludgeoned them into submission
Hope India shows the same intensity in their vision
You deserve a place in the rank of greats
A cog in our artillery, one of the biggest threats
You will live on for a hundred years to come
but the stature you have achieved will always be dear to some!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

Last hope

He took a mould and tapped my head
packed me pristine and thus he said
"You are my last hope, go live your life"
and he sent me down, all on myself, all too naive
and I was unpacked and shown the world
that how we spin in this morbid whirl
and I guess I inherited a guiding light
which helps me cope in this gloomy night
I am HIS son, and I know that well
and I will do my bit, my bit for this hell
but how I wish, I was not his last hope
will this last forever? my mind says - nope!

Monday, October 26, 2009

The return

Sitting lifeless, in a state of brood
confines so cold, and emotions so crude
that is when I hear a knock
picking up the splinters and unwinding the lock
I pick myself, rearrange my bits
moved forward emerging from the pits
Inundated with second thoughts, hesitation in gait
what's on the other side, I followed the bait
With trembling hands I open the door
and I see my old friends - humanity, love and a few more.
The void had killed me a thousand times
and conscience spurned by demonic chimes
My existence bled everyday caught in a timeless maze
how I wished they were back to rid this haze
Bedazzled I stand, and anxious to invite
for the first time I'm gonna love, and I'm gonna love their deride!

Sunday, October 25, 2009

Faces of pain

Ah, there's so much to wonder!
a feeling of life, why do I sunder?
why the glum is so different in your eyes
when I have seen all the brazen skies
I see here the pride in pain
but why is it for you, an object of bane

Cathartic mission

Finally I sit down to write something worthwhile, something different than my crappy piece of thoughts penned down as work of ill-formed parody! This recourse to the blog domain has been a bit delayed, but timely nevertheless. I was a bit preoccupied with things at my end. Too many things on my plate, but I was never going to miss my desserts.

So here's how I got the impetus. One fine day I woke up to the news of Uncle Sam doing something extraordinary. Years of research being stuffed into a missile, whose only aim would be to travel thousands of kilometers away from the earth and dig a hole so deep into that lifeless natural satellite of ours, that it might take years altogether to fathom its depth! Did I say lifeless moon? Had it been so, I wouldn't have given it a damn to be keeping myself awake at this point in time to write about this astronomical feat. I was later on told by my friends that the electronic media went ga-ga over the munificence of NASA to invest so heavily on this project. I was also informed the missile was designed to pound its surface so hard that plumes of debris will be visible kilometers above its surface. And as expected, none of these happened on the contrary!

I know, it will be another pat for the mankind - and a huge uplift for its continual endeavor towards superiority over anything tangible. Omnipotent as a word can now rest in peace. We are here to redefine our rules, the meaning which transpires out of the circumstances we are in and most importantly, the stark reality of our callous attitude towards other forms of life. Erudite we have become, and its affectation has transcended few boundaries. And when I talk in a manner descried as "holier than thou", I am supposed to represent a sect of "poor little things" on this planet, who are cynical about what we can do in our authority of being "human beings" and ones who can seemingly attempt to thwart the rolling juggernaut.

But with due respect to those with ulterior motives, I am not going to while around being a couch potato - waiting to be bathed in the realms of "extraordinary science" and rejoice over our extra terrestrial reach. If I proclaim to be responsible, I have to get up and question the legitimacy of our modern conduct. We can't always be thinking about ourselves!

So this "moon bombing", as I choose to call it, made for an interesting rave and kept everyone's imagination in a fizzy. I for one, started with the mechanics and dynamics of the missile used for this project. And then the next object under my purview, our dear moon, made me think. The scientists had gone ahead with this mission assuming that no life existed on its surface. But what if they were wrong? The mission entailed research in upcoming months into the contents of the debris extracted out of moon's surface. What if it shows that it had some life forms at the time of the bombing? Who's going to take up the responsibility? Even in the case of something being found, I presume we could simply wash our hands off, thinking that it doesn't affect us in any way!

I know it may sound a bit presumptuous to be questioning a community on something whose results are not entirely known. My greatest fear is the fear itself getting realised into reality. We may not feel the pain as human beings, but would like to ask everyone to think over this scenario:

An alien warship sinks into the US creating a crater equal to the size of a football field - and mind you it's not an accident but a part of the mission. Is it still so hard to sympathize now?

Tuesday, October 6, 2009

Been there, seen that!

So one more time, India were ceremoniously shown the door in a multi nation ICC event! Nothing new in that if you care to have a look at our travails endured in getting ourselves ousted at the drop of the hat. Some of it may seem to be too mundane to even merit a discussion! But I am not the type who keeps a sucker-punch ready only when our team isn't exactly in its best shape. I count on them, even when they have demoralised me umpteen number of times. There seems to be an oddity so inherent that you start living with it rather than trying to find ways to counter them. So where did we go wrong?
Our team has what it takes to reach the pinnacle of success; you name the ingredients and you have it. So, why have we found ourselves limping off the track at a stage when ruthless champions are expected to march on nonchalantly? Is it that the infamous "Chokers" tag has found a more deserving candidate? A subject of intrigue is what I have decided to ponder over!
The solution to this seemingly tough conundrum is right in front of you, if you care to remove the veneer of amazement. Our bowling attack looked orphaned even in the presence of seasoned campaigners like Bhajji. There is not even an iota of doubt that our bowling attack is very young, both agewise and maturity wise. But ditto for our neighboring country Pakistan! Teenagers like Aamer were seen dictating terms to even the best batsmen in business. One bowling spell is enough to inspire the whole team and Nehra knows it better. He bowled his heart out only to see others getting spanked all over the park. With due respect to Ishant and his heroics down under, he seemed to be half as good as what he had promised to be when he was firing all those missiles at Punter. A raging bull he was, and a tame lamb he proved to be in this tournament. Accolade is like nursing water to the seed called talent. What grows out of it is recognition. Your job doesn't end there as few others would know better. The real battle starts now, when you have to let this sapling grow into a monolithic tree, which will bear fruits for ages to come. For inspiration, look at the monolithics named Gavaskar, Kapil and more recently Tendulkar. With age on his side, Ishant has a long way to go and we can only hope that he keeps his will intact even in trying times like these. The youngster will do well with this harangue for now.
Bhajji is an enigma, not only to me but I hope to a lot many. With every weapon in his artillery, he should be expected to bulldoze his opponents 8 out of 10.
Were these just "off" days for him? Time will only tell.
As much as we rue over our wasted effort in the bowling department, we have another demon waiting to greet us with buttery hands. Ones into twos, twos into fours is not some algorithm to deduce new numbers, but the munificence of our fielders in giving away the runs at will. Few flashes of brilliance is what we are used to witnessing. You see, being an Indian fan is not so easy with all the switches between those adrenaline pushes, anxiety, frustartion and elation!
Batting wise this team looks competent enough, so nothing to worry much on this front.
So all in all, we have the magic potions ready to be delivered. What we need is a sincere effort to use them and work cohesively to bring up a unit which performs beyond its potential any given day.
I am sorry if my writeup appeared to be a tirade against my team. I never intended to do that. I love this team very much and want to see it succeeding every which way. My two cents were only to state the obvious, if you know what I mean.

Sunday, October 4, 2009

That's me

I woke up one day
to see my soul incarcerated
entangled in chains, strangulation imminent
why the dawn came so late to rid my emotions inebriated

I wish to sleep again
lay there in darkness, bed callousness
something's so enticing about dark
the sooty soul enlivens the darkness

I swam across the unholy waters
bereft of hope and full of commotion
I touched the banks sans belief
without love, without devotion

The heart descries love
the forgotten art to live
I hesitantly make a move forward
to ride the hope, and learn to give

Thursday, October 1, 2009

Kiss of death!!

here I come to sniff a change
never felt before, ready to derange
a concussion of mind, yet so divine
feeling the moment, it is on cloud nine

vagaries of life, they're too mundane
break the shackles, those emotions so sullen
you want to breakfree, riding on an adamant faith
that's when you realise, it's the kiss of death!

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Uska Chhehra

इस दिल का धडकना अब जरूरत है
हाय कैसे बताएं हम यह हाले दिल
जिस वक्त ये एहसास हुआ
कि वो कितनी खूबसूरत है

चाँद तो सोया हुआ है
कुदरत के आँचल में
अजीब सी मासूमियत है
दिल के इस हलचल में

मखमली चादर लपेटे आई ये रात है
ख्वाब बुनता शीशों के माफिक
चेहरा जो देखूं उसका सुहाना
आज ऐसी फितरत इस आशिक की है

चंदन लपेटे पहली किरनें
उसकी यादों के झरोखे
आज आ मुझपर गिरी हैं
खिलखिलाते खुशियाँ संजोते

मोतियों के रास्ते हैं
जो तुम्हारे संग चले हैं
आज तनहाइयों से बरी
आसमान पैरों तले है

साथ यह छूट ना जाए
बस दुआ ये lub संजोती
वजूद अपना मिल ना सका था
अगर जो संग मेरे तुम ना होती

Friday, September 11, 2009

Suspension of Disbelief

Incipient laughter of life
He smiles and looks at his wards in rife
Is there a moment although very brief
when thou lord is not under suspension of disbelief

His creation is at the throes of warring paths
some appointed sentinels of the massacre and others aghast
Will he cry over the deads in a heap
when thou lord is not under suspension of disbelief

The playwright so immaculate
and his play so difficult to insinuate
will he watch the humanity trudge in a sorry creep
when thou lord is not under suspension of disbelief

I am mortal yet I am God
in a setting inherently so odd
Will he watch my last strain of blood drip
when thou lord is not under suspension of disbelief

Sullen slumber has us in shackles
Our heads against the bloody barrels
Will he watch silently slip us in this perfidious grip
when thou lord is not under suspension of disbelief

Monday, September 7, 2009

The call!

The wheel is rolling
and a languid betrothal pulls me
sublime evenings lie subverted
losing out on what I want to be

Callous, I run amok
the culdesac my only friend
I keep eluding the light
but still craving for that little bend

the ephemeral crevice haunts me
the only chance which's waiting eternally
compunction peels me from within
begetting emotions full of melancholy

The first rays of light, the vedic rhymes and a unique source of life
a part of my flesh adjudicating retribution
I dream of a day
when emancipation dawns on my commotion

I want to join the river
the flow which gave me wings
inevitably I flew in here
dying to break off and be among the kings.

Monday, August 31, 2009

Is there a legacy for my dream?

dreams, the pristine snow on the peaks
runaway desires, what we want to be
in the placid lap of serenity
I dream of a world, full of sanguinity

behold what's there for us
bountiful to be had
for each one of us
but still we are embroiled in feuds

Look at that smile, the innocence in her eyes
fingers so tender, the glint so fresh
Are we so blind, bedazzled by the gold
that we can't see the message so bold

the blind race to hegemony
conscience trampled under bigotry
what's the future which beckons us
the beings with blackened souls and full of trickery

a whisper in our ears, a stalking shadow
pleading to rid the negligent
of his exuberant callousness and declamatory slumber
of the turbid mirror, a reflection in taint

a price to live, and a gift of death
the last strings attached to a rickety faith
the journey will start with everyone around you
engender the courage, when your moments are few

this world will never be the same
a man of dreams will rise again
the change which I couldn't bring
will manifest in a song which the world will sing

Saturday, August 29, 2009

The mirror

The bubble had to burst
to let the guiding light reach us
arranging strings in a commotion
dreaming of unicorn in a fuss

Made to walk on a sword
an idea so fulfilling
kept following the mirage
amidst relations whose taste kept on dwindling

dreams of fire scare us
fire gobbling mirror being a friend
what do we set to achive
achieved nothing but the godsend

a facade of success
adorns the meaning of our lives
but no more than a hermitage
where loneliness does the high-fives

the days await us to goof up
and the nights ready to oblige
nothing could we learn from life
what we could have been will only be a surmise

A chance!!

Inundated by rivers of blood
those baby steps so innocent
how have our hands learnt to kill
and to devour each other, we strive to invent

There's so much pain everywhere
how do we manage to laugh
it's our flesh being cut out every time
the blows breaking us into half

how can we still sit idle
with perdition before our eyes
an albatross hung around our necks
where's the care in our sighs

when did we learn to be animals
care for nothing but the gold
carrying our own carcasses on our backs
emotions black and very cold

why doesn't it churn from within
when our brethren reek of blood
why it never offends us
to the see ourselves in glut

when is it going to end
have we devoured enough
the courage the look into their eyes
and to answer them and not huff

this trail is not going to be erased
we will have to sleep with the dragon
and be consumed in inferno
and engender a chance to rebuild this haven

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Time Machine!

A knock on the door caught the attention of Asha.
“Manav, could you please see who’s on the door?”
As if she knew what’s going to happen, she darted across to the dining hall, stood akimbo with both her hands spoilt with dough and gazing blankly at Manav yelled –“Manav! Could you please leave that play station for a moment and check who’s on the door?”
Manav, for a moment squeaked in his couch, and without any further delay ran across to the main door. Even he knew that sometimes his behavior, although at home, were quite unbecoming for the stature of a married man who is a senior VP in a reputed firm.
“Yes, what’s the matter?”
“Sir, there is a courier for you! Please sign here.”
“Ok! Thanks.”
Manav closed the door and started to have a look at the envelope. What he saw written on the envelope, left him dumbstruck. The cover of the envelope :

To,
Dear Manav

From,
Your loving Father

**********************************************************************************

Ramesh seemed to be a man of few words. But, that’s a façade most people wish to put up when faced with an excruciating personal loss. As if losing his beloved wife recently was not enough, he had to start pondering over his 5 year old son Manav’s future. Manav was inquisitive from the word go, and that reminded Ramesh of the need to take special attention of his son’s demands and channelize his son’s resources in the right direction. But losing your life partner so early in life could be burdensome, more so when you have a budding flower to protect. Ramesh felt too weak, everyday and every night. Not to let his son see the effect of his debilitating experience at the hands of crude fate, he used to lock him up inside a room at nights, away from his son’s peering eyes. As is the wont, given the propensity to speculate, Manav could not stop himself from asking his father what he did inside the room, all locked up. Ramesh didn’t know how to answer his son, a man of few words that he was after the loss, told him that he was working on building a Time machine which he can use to be a part of future and past living in the present. It took him close to a day to convince and explain Manav what he was supposed to be doing in that room.
At the same time, Ramesh asked his tender son, all of 5, to promise him that he won’t disturb him whenever he decided to retire for his room.
Only Ramesh knew what he did in that dark room! Who cares, anyways that room was always dark.

**********************************************************************************
Manav’s hands trembled as he took out the letter from the envelope. It was a white paper, awaiting to let Manav know what his father had in store for him. He held the paper in his hands, nervous at the prospect of being challenged with something alien, and concentrated on the blue font, which he thought adorned the whole page beautifully. Manav always marveled at what his father was capable of inking on the paper with his old blue pen and always wondered if he could write that well. Today, in the lap of success, a major part of his thirst for perfection would have been quenched, but he only knew what he was still waiting for. He had a lump in his throat, as he started to read out the letter. By this time he was already in his study room, far away from an oblivious Asha, only to feel lonelier than ever before.

**********************************************************************************


Dear Manav,
If you are reading this letter, I am the most proud father today. Our times were not that great. I don’t know how much of it you still remember, but I have vivid memories of what we went through in that stage. Ruthless fate took away your Mom from us and we were left pondering at what could have possibly gone wrong. Being a child could have been easy, but to play a child is never easy. I was a young father, left listless by solitude, burdened by responsibilities and practically deranged by situations. But being in love with the only thing you have in a catastrophe is the best thing that could happen to anyone. It serves two purposes. One that it helps you cope up with the malevolent situations, and the other that it gives you a chance to rediscover life - A chance to fall in love with life once again. But it always puts a premium on the effort which goes into identifying the tools to achieve the second purpose. It isn’t an easy job my son, and for most part of the period of going through that ordeal, I seemed quite inept at fishing out the right objective amongst a horde of options available before my eyes. As they say - to err is human, and I believed in this adage blindly till the time I was undecided about what to do about our future – a fledgling under the aegis of a confused man, whose war within was generous enough to oblige and devour a future which only almighty knows about! I was running out of time and had to take a decision quickly. And I took it. Magnanimous as it may seem, the same cruel fate had something else in its mind this time. After losing the war with myself, I decide to marry once again. And it was only for you. And out of nowhere, this story started doing the rounds that I had been seen to be behaving like a crazy man, often the vibes from a man who has just lost his young wife and has to take care of a sapling. I don’t know who engaged in this rumor mongering, but as I sit back to reflect on what could have been, and what I could see now, I want to thank that person and wish for his well being. Thank you Mr. XYZ.

I never married thereafter, which I can proudly say was a blessing in disguise. What I hear of the woman today, with whom I was about to get married, is nothing great to talk about. Her 3 sons are known to be roadside scoundrels and her daughter quite demeaning in her own way. Gosh, I would have died watching my son taking those paths. I don’t know how much is she responsible in shaping up the current characters of her children, but man is by nature a risk averse person, and it is with the conviction of that trait, I can proudly say that you are my son - a mirror to my ideologies, a man your father would have wanted to be. Yes, some of the traits you carry now are an amalgam of my dreams and your mother’s wishes. I, as a young man, wanted to be an entrepreneur in my own right. But a man’s nature is always going to be a hassle in what he really wants. Being risk averse was never going to help me take those rungs to success in this field. Your mother was a pillar of strength for me. She always stood by my side, be it good or bad times and I believe she believed more in my abilities than what I could ever do in mine. She gave me the impetus to work hard, always be tenacious in adverse situations and what not. But, few things don’t turn up the way you want them to. I lost my strength and with that whatever she had always stood for. And hence the confusion after she was taken away from our lives. But, loved ones and their influences always linger in your life, no matter what you choose to do. She was still there. It took me sometime to identify her, but that’s when I rediscovered life. A new meaning was attached to my existence and with that started a journey you must cherish for your lifetime. What you are today is what your mother has made you. You must know that you are the only thing I had in this life and I love you a lot. But during your upbringing, there were few things which I hid from you, and now feel obliged to answer. And this is something which is very close to you.
If you could remember, as a child I never allowed you to enter in that dark room. You must have wondered all these years, even after my flimsy description of what I did there, what all could be there in that room.
Now I intend to answer all your queries. But for that, you need to go into that room for the first and the last time. That’s an earnest request from your ageing, doting father.

Your loving father,
Ramesh


**********************************************************************************
Manav could not believe what he was reading. His ambivalent state was perturbing him to the core. But he wanted to do this for his father. He bulleted across the study room, took his jacket and keys to his car. Of course he had to travel to the place where he had seen his mother for the last time.

“Manav, where are you going? The lunch is ready!”
“Asha, I will be back in sometime. You take your lunch and don’t wait for me.”
“But at least you can tell me where are you going”
“To see my Time Machine!”
Asha had a weird look on her face watching her husband utter these nonsensical words.
“Maybe it could be the name of a new play station”, she muttered to herself.

**********************************************************************************
The door to the dark room creaked when Manav tried to enter the dark room. After all, years of rust and excitement are sure to pop up when ignited with a push. Stepping aside the cobwebs, both in the dark room and his mind, he entered into the room to a strange revelation. There was a thin ray of sunlight peeping inside the room, majestically leaving a trail of glow and resting purposefully on the almirah, the only remains of that sun lit room. Manav was getting anxious by the moment as he moved towards the almirah to open its door. The wooden door of the almirah was covered with a layer of dust, manifesting the time which had passed by as Manav had waited for his father to answer that elusive question. The door creaked again to mark the inertness of that room, which had been its companion for so long. The upper shelf had a small wooden box, sitting nice and pristine as if waiting for its master’s hands to come and grab them. Manav was already there and he was all too ready to oblige. This was not a time to foment ideas, but to act as per his father’s wishes. Manav broke open the seal of the box to find a letter nicely tucked inside it.

Dear Manav,
This is your time machine - a machine able to carry you into the life of your father when you were oblivious of things going inside my mind. I so hopelessly wanted you to understand how I felt at that juncture in life. More than you, it was a void which was ready to engulf our futures. Potentially, a father who couldn’t care any less and a child who couldn’t know any more. I never wanted you to see what I could see. Nothing which could scare you and not let you be the man you are today. This machine will always remind you of what we had gone through and how we came out of it. You are back into your past, still standing in present holding this letter, when you are able to discern things in the best possible way. Now, you can understand the agony of not having something which you had always wished for. It will make you cherish your present even more, for what you are today, the values you stand for, and the life you have chosen to live. This machine will carry you into the future with a sense of humility, that what you could make out of your life is your own doing. Never feel that your father had to suffer anytime. It was you who carried me along in tough times. You were the passion which drove me to any lengths – a new meaning of life, which is not living for yourself, but striving to make someone else’s life better, which ultimately will guarantee the quality of life you have lived. This machine will carry you into the future, with everything I would love watching you do. You have made your present and this machine will give you a chance to reflect on what you have gone through, how important it was for you to carry on and with what ideologies you step into your future.
This is all I could make for you and hope that you would like it, because through its mirror I can see the excitement in my 5 year old son of wanting to know what I used to do in this dark room, the relief in the eyes of my child of getting his most awaited gift and the aspirations of an entrepreneur wanting to make it big in life. Finally, I could see myself in that mirror!

Your loving father
Ramesh

The room had always been dark but never moist. The silence of the room reverberated with nostalgia and pride. Manav left his footprints behind in that room, possibly for the first and the last time. The time machine finally met its owner and others would know that Manav was here. Engine of his car started in the background as the dark room bid him good bye, possibly for the last time.

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Stop Faking

Stop faking to me
for things which I can possibly see
I remember the last smile you had on your face
I thought you were happy, but now I know it was not the case
coming together this far, you decided to stab me
I can see through the glass, your designs to nab me
and use me and throw away in the bin
I wasted myself, it's not you but I who committed the sin
Forlorn, I'll walk away into oblivion, is what you think
the boat has capsized, but i will not let it sink
will sail through troubled waters, hope to reach an end
will walk down the unknown path, with things to amend
I know I will succeed because you will no more be there
Dark clouds will wither away, a new sunshine will be here
Dreams might have collapsed, but will never fades
I think I will find a way, way beyond these gloomy shades
I will be happy one day, thinking it was me who loved you
I have got my share of moments, the one who has lost is you

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

Return to me!!

I am still there waiting for you

I almost forgot when I last met you

But there's no one stopping me

to hold onto that string of hope

But I care to make note of few things

which is going to help me cope

with what I can go on to lose

but for my will, I will stay

until I get the sight of that noose

I have tried to make amends

to what I could possibly do

let the path of pain commence

I will do what I need to do

I have faith that you will return

either to be with me or to mourn

but I will cherish that moment

when you get weak to think about me

a moment to lament and foment

I never look back beyond what I could possibly see

for what could have been and what could be

I just think that you will return to me

to help the trust win and not me

because I may not be here tomorrow

but one that goes on to live will be the sorrow

of not letting the trust win

I beg of you to return back

and complete me in what I duly lack.

Saturday, May 16, 2009

Blast from the Past


My eyes were witnessing the perfect manifestation of peccadillo, which is going to cost the team I adore, very heavily. It was a bumpy ride to say the least, with fortunes switching sides like the LJP leader RVP. The moment you thought it's done and dusted with, there comes that fireball of uncertainty ready to bleed hearts. It was a heart break, and unfortunately for fans like me. A person not given to composure at such times can become dreadfully annoyed. MI, right through this tournament has flattered to deceive, and when we started to move towards the business end of the tournament, they seemed to have moved away from business. There's nothing wrong in losing, but the way you lose, which sometimes seems to have become a habit, is surely a point of concern.
By this morning, I was quite pacified and reflected upon what MI could have done better to find themselves in a comfortable position. Solutions didn't come through, but a strange analogy gripped my mind. Suddenly, the things I have come to witness from MI, more often than not, are the things which I was quite used to seeing in mid nineties.
MI, with all their might and talent, seem to be an incarnation of the team of 90's. Ironically, they also have their name ending with "Indians". I just wonder, how these things can come back to disappoint us.
The way this team plays, is very much similar to what we have already seen from our national team in 90's. One man army. There you had a single fighter standing among the ruins, trying hard to mend the team's losing ways with individual brilliance, and yet captaining the side. Whoopsieee!!! What do we have now? A similar set of players, or rather a bundle of nerves, who are so fond of watching themselves in dire straits that even the patrons would have felt jealous.
That loss to Zim in WC 99 still hurts many of us. Among all, we chose Henry Olonga to be anointed as the king of the match. Yesterday, we were seeing nothing different. Munaf Patel is the new hero. A man, center point of all the jibes and tirades, not so long ago for his attitude and behavior on the field, had managed to pull it off for his team.
The one common thing, which stares directly into our eyes, is the glory associated with captaincy for a certain man. Calling him a man in itself is blasphemous. The legend fought hard yesterday, which he was doing circa 90's all the time. Your heart goes out for the man who has fought hard throughout his life, but still finds him and the team he commands on a slippery pitch.
Heart break it is, for me and umpteen fans, but HE has to fight again with HIS team tomorrow. Let's wish him and his team good luck!

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Duvidha

Zindagi ke chaar kshan socha jee loon umang se
Aakhir cheez kya hai chaar Kshan dekh loon to dhang se
Pata nahin nazar lagi do kshano ke ant ko
Sikuda hua hoon bheetar hi, vichar khade hain dang se

Raat ki chadar lapete waqt aaya kaal sa
aaj bhi yaad hai woh din bhara bhoochal sa
Krandan karti aashayein, rok na paaya us dwand ko
pada shithil main nirjeev sa, padh na paya us chhand ko

sochta hoon kya kiya tha jo phansa toofan mein
tinke sanjota vishwas ke, uth to loonga phir kabhi aage badha yeh than main
Vipda hai aayi ghor sir pe, kaise jutaoon hausla
lagta nahin main khush kabhi tha, shrishti ke is gaan main

lathpath pada hoon nirjeev sa, nirashaon ke gart main
kya kabhi main uth sakoonga sachhai ke arth main
Chaar kshan ab bhram lage hain, laga raha main swarth main
Ab badhoonga nischayi, aaj kaliyug paarth main

Shakti ka aalap sun, aaj mann ki baat sun
Jo nahi hai mil saka, uski aaz aagaz sun
Laga hai jo nischay ke path par, krodh aur shanka se bhinna
Ban ja pathik us raah ka, chhod chal apne padchinha

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

सफर

नही है आग राह की
कहाँ गई क्यूँ हुआ
यह मन हुआ विरक्त सा
गायब कहाँ जुनूं हुआ

समर्थ मन डरा हुआ
है आज क्यूँ थका हुआ
आशाओं के द्वंद से
भयभीत सा मरा हुआ

प्रकृति के प्रताप में
है हौसला थका हुआ
प्यार के आवेश में
सना हुआ पका हुआ


जले हुए दरख्त सा
अरमानो तले दबा हुआ
मोह माया प्रेमजाल
पकड़ा हुआ खड़ा हुआ

प्यार के आगाज़ से
बना हुआ मापा हुआ
उन्ही के मापतोल में
निरंतर लगा रहा

कुंठा भरी समाज से
जुड़ा रहा बना रहा
है वक्त आज शोर का
खड़ा कहाँ तत्पर हुआ

नही कभी यकीं कर
कौन है कहाँ गया
आज वक्त आ रहा
तू सूर्य है प्रकट हुआ

समाज तो कुटिल रहा
सदा यहाँ यहीं रहा
तू पथिक है राम का
आज से संवर रहा !

उड़ चला मैं

उड़ चला मैं
उमंग थी पर लगाने की
चाह थी कुछ कर गुज़र जाने की
ऐसी कुछ उड़ानों की कसक लिए
उड़ चला मैं

दूर कहीं वो बैठी होगी
अन्जान इन पथ की कठिनाईयों से
आज ऐसी टीस उठी है दिल में
कि मिल आऊँ उससे क्षण भर को
सो उड़ चला मैं

इस जीवन में उद्देश्य कई थे
संचय करता अरमानो का
अज्ञात दिशा की उमंग लिए
उस हीरे की प्यास लिए
उड़ चला मैं

दूर कहीं है चलना
बाधाओं के परिपक्व होने से पहले
काश उसकी सूरत का दीदार हो
उस खुदा से पहले
अरमानो के भूचाल लिए
उड़ चला मैं

क्या वो करती होगी मेरा इंतज़ार
क्या होगा उसे मुझ जैसा प्यार
इन दुविधाओं की गाँठ लिए
उड़ चला मैं

अभी मीलों का सफर है तय करना
इस काया की मंशा में है और लौह भरना
परिणामों की चिंता से अनभिज्ञ
उड़ चला मैं

हाथ लिए अरमानो की वरमाला
कर निश्चय पीने हलाहल प्याला
आज उठा मैं गहराई की धरातल से
पंख लगा आशाओं के
उड़ चला मैं

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Humanity

We are going through troubled times - as if I told something new! This would be the umpteenth time when I have decided to give way to something brewing up in my mind, with this sentence. As is the wont, I must thank my lords for keeping me in good shape and letting me think the way you will get to know in a short while. I don't take any responsibility for incoherence of my thoughts and any disturbances caused in minds other than my own. And for those who must think good of my opinions, deserve nothing better than a slant smile. So, what brings me here - to the keyboard? One picks up a keyboard only in two situations; either he means business or he means nothing. I mean business when I get to my desk in office to slog out for precisely 549 minutes everyday. You would do well to keep a track of this 3 digit number, which as a matter of fact, has become the most important part of numerology which makes some sense to me. You would also do well to brush up your basic skills in maths and calculate for me(?), total number of minutes in a day. When you get down to measuring the attributes out of hundreds, you would know that it's no big deal to see a guy talking like the way I am going to talk now!So, in a way when I am supposed to mean business, I have decided to let go of my saintly guise and "mean business". You won't know the repercussions of my actions until you have been "billed" anytime. There are two keyboards which get my attention throughout the day - one for the entire 549 minutes and other for the rest of the time during the day(my suggestion to calculate total number of minutes in a day is coming handy here!) unless I "mean business" in the mornings or when I am watching Rakhi Sawant's histrionics on TV. The 549 minutes keyboard is the privileged one today!

Just the other day, I heard someone talking about humanity. Although I never give even an iota of chance for any thing to enter into my mind for contemplation, I happened to think over it. I thought, thought and thought. And then I thought again. What is humanity? I still remember how I planned to get rid of the fear of public speaking. Every morning, through one of the
chores meant for morning ablutions, seated(or squatted?) on my two limbs for the enigma of "Newton's law of gravitation" to unfold, I used to cook up a random idea in my mind - be it any conversation or topic of relevance (or irrelevance?) and start speaking. Until I was finished, I would keep on blabbering, imagining a multitude sitting in front of me and listening to me piously. That day I repeated it for humanity. Voila! the multitude was there, but not the words. Although my usual performance was over, I got out unsatisfied. This was the first time I went completely blank in my performance. Not even a single word. With a heavy heart I set out for the drudgery and kept thinking while my bus honked its way to my workplace. That day it took quite a long time to reach office. I got down the bus and it started itching - in mind. I thought of asking the guards -after all they are the ones who keep seeing the sea of humans everyday. But I decided to give myself some more time. Maybe some other day, in some other performance, I could run away with all the accolades.

And now today, I realised what's humanity.Of the may friends with whom I loiter inside the office campus, one happens to be complete extrovert. He is one of the type who may compel you to rethink your decision of hanging out with him. But what else can I do, when he is the only option to contend with. While having lunch, he expressed his desire to confess something. It must be pointed out that the way he was sitting, it seemed like he is sitting on a banked track. Before he could confess, my question had presented itself in full authority. He had a sheepish smile on his face, when he said he had a boil at his backside and so the posture. I could feel his pain, not because I have had the experience but because he was my friend. And that precisely was the moment when humanity struck me! I could have laughed at him, but I preserved it for some other time. Time was ripe to show humanity and that I did.

Now think of our ancestors. We have learnt so may things from them. They devised so many things, out of which, faith and belief had a major share. Apart from fire and wheel, inventions of repute have happened in "our" era. So, our ancestors had nothing else to showcase other than the fire and the wheel.Now we take pride in developing the iPod wheel. We have learnt about society, togetherness and what not from our ancestors.So, how could have the concept of humanity come to dwell in their minds? I have an explanation and readers would do well to keep in mind my warning issued at the start of this writeup.

Long time ago, in a fair, a person would have come from a far flung place, so that no one could have known him. Public around him would have been curious. As soon as he would have taken his seat and squealed, curiosity levels would have sky-rocketed. Who is this fellow and why did he wail? Others would have gathered around him just to have a glimpse of the never-before-seen-squealing-man. The drama continues. Nobody seems to care as to why did he squeal but every one's busy finding out the reason by themselves.It was not the only squeal and the man himself blurted out - "Oh! my boil". Nobody seems to have guessed the exact location until they see his hand move in that direction. It's again a boil in the backside!As if to feel his pain, every body's hands moved in the same direction. And someone in the crowd(has to be an old man) couldn't keep his words in his mouth -"How are you son?Do you need any help?"As is the case with any society, young ones are spoon fed with morals like these. The old man was elevated to the status of the "grand old man" and was bestowed with choicest of nicknames in reverence. He was now the father figure and an expanse of thousands of miles beckoned his legacy.Children like us were swept away by the wave of righteousness and landed in the safe hands of freedom. It is with that authority, I have summoned myself to question the unquestionable.Everyone of us is expected to exude humanity but I have turned round the corner and erased my past memories which would have always led me to a known outcome.If I were not educated, would it be possible for me to distinguish between what should be done or not or vice-versa? Humanity as such doesn't exist.It never existed in the first place. So the reason behind the question "where's humanity" is entirely misplaced. We have associated with ourselves an abstract idea, which is based on expectations. That in itself is a source of great misery. So, to get peeved at the loss of humanity is entirely foolish!Thanks to our statesman Dadaji, we have come to expect it from everyone, when it's only an accidental show of concern for someone else's boil in the backside. And thanks to the man who squealed it out, otherwise Dadaji would have remained oblivious of what had really happened. I guess, my friend with his sheepish smile could have helped in that situation.