Sunday, September 11, 2011

It has been a long time I updated this blog properly. Maybe a year. I remember how diligently I used to write for this blog and proudly used to showcase. So many years with this blog. From small things to big things. Thought to love. Everything.

But now that the person who was the inspiration behind this blog is no more with me, I declare it closed. For her this was. Will be :)

And anyways it is half dead. The other half death is just an obligation

To this blog and her,
I wanna love my life.
I love both of them.

Thursday, April 28, 2011

I tried to capture the sun,
it spilled all the light on me,
and then asked,
son, still you can’t see?

Monday, April 11, 2011

For all who took it

Today was JEE.

Sitting in a really nice university, when I log in to an e-paper I can see pictures of students getting out of the entrance test centers. Sitting in a really nice university, I realize that I could have been one of them.

Five of my friends rejoined, revived, and re-activated their facebook accounts today after three years. And made me realize that they existed. I talked to them, one was very happy, three were skeptical, the fifth one never replied. Maybe he forgot about my existence during the past three years.

Crammed in rooms, crammed with books, a million lives in our country study for this entrance, and each one of them wants to be there, there in that IIT. Because they know that if they won’t be there, they will be everywhere where everyone is. Call this a disillusion rendered by our country, or our childhood, or our ambition of the highest, or our nation’s failure to provide the highest to everyone, every guy and girl studying for it has the same desire. And only a portion gets selected, or lets call it a percent. That is what makes this entrance special, for it’s a heart break!

But be it two years or three years, each one of these students has done his sums, and preparation and each one of them have done more than I have ever done in my life. Years of their childhood spent in hard work.

It shows how much dedication it takes,

and pain.

Today was JEE

We usually celebrate achievement,

Lets celebrate desire and passion today.

For all the JEEians, who may or maybe not be IITians,

Salute :)

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Old beds.

As the sun finally set, he pushed the curtain to cover the windows. The sunset of the day felt weird to him, one could feel that he didn’t really like it. Barefoot, he stood there touching the wooden rough of his newly acquired cupboard. No, this wood is too new to be loved, he thought. It certainly was, as the cupboard was newly made out of freshly cut wood, and thus devoid of any history or scar.

As the cold stung his bare feet, he moved them towards his new shoes that shone the color white. For a moment, he remembered his mud clad sneakers, and the memory of scrapping out the mud from it using broken branches of the small tree outside his home. He a moment, he smiled at its dirty image in his mind, which he had safely brought from his home.

A yawn struck him with comfort, but his mind wasn’t ready to give up dreaming for the day. Flattening his new brown sheet, he sat on the bed with his feet down. The bed was lower than the bed he had slept all his life on, and gave him no space to sway his legs freely. He realized that he will have to give up on a few too many habits.

The bed was monstrous, but pretty small for a soul to settle in. Its iron boundaries gave him the coldest and lifeless feeling a non living thing could. The room looked white to him in the bright light of the tubes, and he wondered if the yellow tinge of his old room will ever return to his eyes. He decided he disliked such a bright room. He scratched his head, and the yawn came back to revive his conflict between sadness and escape. Stretching his arm, he wrapped his finger around the beer bottle he got for himself. He wanted and had promised himself to gulp it all, once he was settled. He realized he was not. But the water droplets on the surface of the bottle were too sweet, and tempting to resist. And he didn’t want to, resist.

Squeak, squeaked a rat.

His neck turned, and his eyes met a small brown rat that was acting unusually slowly. Maybe, even he was new to the room, or like him, the whole town. He squeaked, again. He was small, his eyes made the observation again. The rat darted off towards his cupboard, and his eyes darted after him. Squeak, it squeaked again. He smiled. He felt nice with a rat around. Both trapped in a place they want to run away from. But both had to be there to learn that they had to be there. Both couldn’t help.

The breeze came, and forced the curtain to fly. Maybe it is right this way, he mused. The intoxication can’t go on for years for sure, nor will the place. He decided to get used to the place, rather than the intoxication.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Like us

For a someone like none.

It was cold, the breeze came,
you held me, making us,
you held me, without a fuss.

I never asked for,
what you did,
inside your arms,
I gleefully hid.

Today when you leave,
I miss all the leaves,
we broke,
All the words,
we spoke,
All the tears,
we shed,
wiped the eyes,
very red,
All the smiles,
we flashed,
All the water,
we splashed,
All the stones,
we walked,
All the hours,
we clocked,
All the dreams,
we dreamt,
Our long hair,
happily unkempt,
The hands we held,
The hopes we flew on,
a feather,
The days we spent,
the nights that went.
Our friendship
a beauty, and a joy,
and happy as a toy.

Now you leave,
it to dust,
in a pool of tears,
to rust.

You are going away,
as I stand here,
I may or may not cry,
But I surely do care.

Monday, November 22, 2010

It's dark

Speak, slowly, it’s dark,
candle, fire, a little spark,
a step, walk, you stumble,
leaf, falls, a crumble.

A shadow falls, ov’r the sky,
the day dies, without a cry,
the dog barks, the hen sleeps,
dead leaves, the widow sweeps.

Dawns the dark on the night,
voices sleep whispering bright.
I come n’ sit, on the chair,
watching the floor, barely fair.

The cold came whispering me tales,
of dead birds, n’ silent wails,
of drowning men, n’ fallen kings,
of crying girls, n’ empty swings.

The blinds were dull,
the air was a lull,
The eyes were sleep,
a distant weep.

I clutched, the wood,
I slowly stood,
One hand had the flicker,
the other, the liquor.

The wail had its prey,
it started its say,
“The moon may shine,
tonight won’t be fine,
the candles will die,
as the bats will fly,
your eyes will talk to dust,
behind pages, spies will rust
you are watched by dark,
surrounded by the bark,
the dark will reveal,
the devil’s own deal
but you’ll fail to see,
as you struggle with glee,
thus you are my prey,
as night lives its day.”

Silence, drowned, the place,
extinguished dark, with grace,
stunned, I stared,
into the hollow,
empty, nothing, to follow.

It felt strange, dying,
like a laughter crying,
my soul, wandered, lost,
cold, still, like frost,

I slumped, and fell,
bliss, engulfed with a swell,
the dark showed me life,
accompanied by a heart’s strife.

I may have been a prey,
beyond black, lied my grey,
the dark showed me all,
from big, wrong, right to small.

A smile etched, I blinked,
died, as the cups broke and clinked.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

From Amrikka, with love

And now the U.S. president will address the parliament.

Mr. Vice President, Madame Speaker, Mr. Prime Minister, Members of the Lok Sabha and Rajya Sabha, and most of all, the very useful people of India.

I thank you for the great honor of addressing the very opportunistic representatives of more than one billion blind Indians and the world's largest opportunity err I mean democracy. I bring the greetings, friendship, and a few goodies of the world's oldest dominating democracy-the USA, including nearly three million marginalized and patriotic Americans Indians.

I am a man of few words, because I don’t know many.
Over the past two days, me and my wife had the opportunity to witness schoolchildren who are being taught very nicely to work in and for our country, and also the innovators who are fuelling USA’s economic rise more than India’s. At every stop, we have been welcomed with hospitality for which the honible Indians are known for. The dreams in their eyes, to work in the microsofts, and googles of USA. Some will succeed, for others we have our hygienic grocery shops.
I am not the first president, nor the last president to visit this charming country. But yes, I am the president who has brought the highest number of opportunities for the classes, not the masses.
After witnessing the rise of India, I believe that the relationship between USA and India will be one of the defining relationships in this century. From a country of snake charmers, it has become a land of big industrialists and rich farmers. Thus I believe that India is our bandwagon for the further development of our country, and thus I am here to book as many opportunities as I can for my country.
I am here to tell you that India and USA are like brothers, USA being the elder one. As an elder brother, we will take adequate care of you, though sometimes we may snatch your lollipops but that is to ensure that you people ever get pampered.
Maybe we don’t share common values, but yes you people are catching up. I can see your clothes getting shorter by the day. Your people now have an accent which resembles ours. And now the sophistication is pretty clear in your eyes. Only today I was talking to the young entrepreneurs of your country, how individualistic, ambitious, and power hungry they have become. They just need a direction. We will show them the way. We have the executive positions for you, the laboratories are ready for you, the call centers are empty, just for you. We believe that no matter where you live-whether a village in Punjab or the bylanes of Chandni Chowk…an old section of Kolkata or a new high-rise in Bangalore-every person deserves the same chance to have the opportunity to work, earn, and live under us. That is why, this time I have brought more corporate minds than beaurocrats . We really want to stamp our presence in your markets. After all our macdonalds feed your mouths. I am here for strong business, which will be good for me, and good for you my audience. The United States remains-and will continue to remain-one of the most open economies in the world. And we want to open your economy, I hope you understand what I mean.
We are ready to share our nuke secrets with you, but that comes at a cost. You may call it freedom, and have some complains. But trust me it is worth it. And anyways you haven’t a done a good with your freedom till now. And about the permanent seat in UNSC, we are ready to vouch for you. But again, we don’t want you getting mushy with iran then. We don’t want you to pursue foreign policies that may hurt your elder brother, the USA. You may call this curtailment of sovereignty, but then who will put you on the right track if not your elder brother. Talking about the Pakistan problem, and the terrorism that affects your dinner table, I just have a sentence to say. Millions die of diseases in your country due to diseases every year, so why such a hue and cry about a few hundred who die at the hands of your neighbor?
To sum up this short speech, I really want to say that you are our partner in Asia, because China is too strong to be made one. We will always give you opportunities to speak when we want you to. We are committed to see that you don’t develop too much, that it may hurt us in the end. And yes, we take the credit and responsibility of indirectly shortening your population. To speak out a manipulated quotation from your oh so wonderful panchatantra – “That one is mine and the other a stranger is the concept of little minds. But to the large-hearted, the world itself is itself is a bag full of opportunities and booty.”

Thank you, Jai Hind!, and long live the relationship between India and the United States. The relationship of money or morals, is our discretion.

Friday, October 8, 2010

The Morgue

The door creaked, and the gap opened,
voices boomed, and boots were heard,
the wind was very still, the air was full of death,
you are in the morgue my friend, the world of dead men.

"Welcome, welcome" sang every dead,
"welcome to your cold hot bed",
"now you are us, for all your death",
"you'll survive heartless breathing without a breath."

The dead hummed as they greeted the new,
they swayed slowly as their white cloth flew,
Their eyes were black, and the skin was blue,
the scars were there, and the blood was true.

"We sleep all day, we sleep all night",
"with eternal dark around, we wake at innocent bright",
"we sing for new, we sing for old",
"If not a life, we have a soul to hold".

The cold steel was clear, the cold was gray,
containing the glorious dead who would never pray,
the moon shone the floor, the panes shadowed the blurred,
none saw inside, nor inside saw the world.

"here no one comes, and no one goes"
"some died of life, some died of blows"
"the corridors are blue with our eerie cold"
"no one bought us, nor we got sold"

The body in jewels laid down along the one in rags,
after dying they were brought in the same plastic bags,
the cruel morgue puts dead men together,
every proud, arrogant, humble under the same feather.

Not a living came to visit or see a dead one,
after being silenced they never felt the love nor the sun.
the remains lay in cold, devoid of any belief,
the morgue killed every joy, and buried any grief.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Blind eyed men

A knife with a blunt edge,
a pen made a blurred sketch.
a leaf that broke away,
a child that went to pray.

I stand here with a cup in hand,
one foot on in mud, one in sand.
I lost my eyes when pecked by a hen,
to live in a world of blind men.

The wind sways under clouds,
the crows call out to their kin,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as blind as a barbed pin.

The dust settles, and it rains,
men work, and their children play.
I stand here with a cup in hand,
on me creep up the dogs stray.

The sound of the water,
and the beautiful fish that swim,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as the day ends with the light dim.

The moon comes up to fly,
the black sky celebrated by the stars,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as small girls dance around with flowers.

The fragrance of something that bakes,
the voice of the wives over the shops,
I stand here with a cup in hand,
as the world buys, sells, and robs.

The night ends to draw a new day,
if the previous was black, this is as grey.
The days end and end as leaves brake,
men are too busy to take a notice fake.

I am strong enough to stand here with a cup in hand,
notice the world with feet on hot sand,
I maybe a blind beggar standing with a cup in hand,
but I can still see and celebrate my land.

I am a blind beggar who can pen,
standing in a world of blind men.