Dreams Limited

Potery: English: Someday

2008-08-02T07:21:00.000-07:00

someday I will say, this far and no more
someday I will stand and say, fall no more
someday I will see my face in a spring of water
love what I see and think of no more

someday I will be the picture and not the pieces
someday I will be the destination not the traces
someday I will see the spirit not the faces
someday I will feel the people not the images

someday I will live life, not the dream
someday I will want you, not your notion
someday you will meet me, not my imagination
someday we will find love, not its apparition

someday nothing will exist, but me and you
someday nothing will be desired, but me with you
someday I will fear nothing, but me without you
someday it will be the same, this me and you

Someday...

Poetry English: Want to write a poem

2008-08-01T00:30:00.000-07:00

I want to write a poem today
I want to strum a guitar,
I want to here the temple bells
I want to listen you play the sitar

do I talk about the moon
how I played with its kids all night
or of the people I am fond of
of the memories I am slave to

I want to tell you what I feel
I want you to know what I think
I want to write this poem for you
but where are you when I look for you

I can fill it in with all those words
which I know but really dont mean
I can say all the phoney things
but I want to write a peom not a rhyme

Poetry Hindi: Kuchh Naya Banana Chahata Hoon

2008-02-01T08:13:00.001-08:00

Ek naya geet gaana chahata hoon
Kuchh naya banana chahata hoon
Jo jeevan ne kheench di hain
Main har wo lakeer mitana chahata hoon

Tan thaka hua hai, kaaya maili
Man par ek bojhil shaam hai phaili
Raat se bhi kuchh door chale jo
wo swapana sajana chahata hoon
Kuchh naya banana chahata hoon

Bandha hua hoon, daas nahin hoon
Sisake, rah jaye, wo aas nahin hoon
bhabhake, bujh jaye, wo aag nahin hoon
lekin phir bhi chup hoon kyonki
aam hoon main kuchh khaas nahin hoon…

Human Touch - It is all about Layers

2007-12-21T10:18:00.000-08:00

Thought is a good thing, probably best of the things. And like all good things, it should not be done in excess. Why do we need it in the first place? We need it because it can help us understand the world outside us. There is an old saying, “there is a God in all of us”. And there is a modern saying, we all have a conscious within us with which we react, respond and live. They mean the same thing. They mean that somewhere within us, there is an unknown who uses the known part of ours as per its whims and fancy. What is known is our physical state, the things around us, the people, the place. What is not is why we like some of them over others? Why people have different preferences and priorities. The question mark of why?
This is where thought emerges again. To solve this why, to capture this unknown and give it a shape. We use this dangerous tool called though to understand, grasp, slot and finally define, what can not be. The unknown within us is truly a God in itself. Just like God can not be defined or understood. We can only understand its manifestations. We can only grasp its few sides and say that this is what it seems to be. And just like, centuries of though have failed to put God in a box, a lifetime can never be sufficient to put down the part of it which lives in each one of us.

Okay, understood that thought can be dangerous thing and it may not be too suited to understand the Buddha in us. But what the hell is your point?
Yeah, I agree. I lost the point. Wait and just hang on. Let me go back to why I felt it is a piece which needs to be written.
Well, of late I have been experimenting with many a predictors, fortune-tellers and face-readers. I have been a bunch of them, from road-side, Rs 10 worth, to those who claim to have studied it in detail and were actually quite good at it.
While we normally end with the analysis of self, so many of analysis made me analyze my reactions to analysis itself. Why is it that whenever someone tells these things, you want to believe it. How much truth is there in it really? Are we really defined by those statements that they had made. You have been an underdog. You have faced quite a bit of criticism. You think too much. You are very emotional. Everything is alright other than your thought process. So much and so forth.

First thing I realized that all these things are just the manifestations of the living being within us. Outcome of the reaction of the living within us to the dead outside us. People with similar living within, find similar manifestations. Same very people find themselves falling apart as the living within changes.

Second thing I realized was that getting caught in them is a dangerous thing. It may be good to be aware of them to may be understand the events. It may help you to simplify your reactions and bring them to normal. With time it may paint a picture which is more easy to accept and move on with. But doing anything more with them is really not worth it.

Third thing I realized was that people use their brain, by which I mean logical brain for essentially two purposes. One is to find ways to do what they want to do. Second is to find a reason to not do what they find themselves incapable of doing. We can add one more use of it, to find an acceptable reason for what they have to do anyway (With or without a choice).

Most motivators talk with the first objective, to find ways to do what you want to do. Pacifiers work on the second part. The healers act as mediators for the third, to find an acceptable reason for what they have to do.

Let me take the three cases in a bit of detail because that is of direct relevance to us in day-to-day life. The first case belongs to scenario when objective is clear. I want this, help me reach there. In these cases one seeks information, insights, experience without having to go through it. Why make a mistake when someone else had done and learned from it. This probably is most constructive use of thought. How do I buy a house? What is a good time for it? Which is a better company to work for? Which one pays more? Etc etc.

Second one is a bit interesting. Sometimes life makes choices available, which we desire but are not capable of taking it up. This is a strange situation to be in. There is no need to pick up the choice and that is what we want. But the reasoning behind it, is not something we are comfortable with. Typical situations? I would have become an entrepreneur but it does not make sense for me. But for you, I controlled myself.

The third one is the reason most analyzers exist. Sometimes in life we have no real choice. All we have is a choice of reason. To each his own. Everyone wants a reason which is in accordance with their line of thought about themselves. And they keep searching for one, till they get it.

Short Story - The Dead Man's Chest (Half way)

2007-10-22T04:13:00.001-07:00

The Dead Man’s Chest

The Cell

The cellar was dark. So was everything else. He spread his grey blanket, the brightest thing in there and tried to lie down on the floor. He couldn’t find a comfortable posture. He kept shuffling his body hoping to find one. But nothing in his body had remained straight. It had become slightly bent forward. His hands and legs appeared frail. His unshaven face was incapable of rendering any expression. It seemed as if lines have frozen on it. His eyes had a still look as well. They seemed the same all the time. Nothing surprised them and nothing made them feel awake. He said his prayer as he finally settled in his bed. His eyelids closed to cover his still eyes. They kept the same look even as his body rested. The darkness pervaded both, the cellar and his inner world.
He got up early and like every other day, finished his daily routines even before any other prisoner got up. He sat next to the bars and waited. Soon the silence had begun to be encroached. He sat in silence as the noise grew. Soon, the sentry was there and was shouting.
He kept sitting and looked at the wall ahead with his still eyes. Someone was approaching his cell. He got up and stood against the door of the cell as it was being opened by the sentry. He came out and joined the line of prisoners to be taken for daily-work.
He began to move as the gate was opened and prisoners began to stream out. He stepped out and moved towards the place where tools were kept. He began picking them up as his hands were held by someone. His hands froze. He didn’t react. He did not know how to. It was the first aberration in his routine in last five years.
Someone was saying something. But it was not making any sense to him. Worlds had long ceased to have any affect to him. They were just bits of sound to him. They happened in the same manner each day. They just meant that he should do what he was anyway going to do.
But this sound was not supposed to be here. It had not been there in past five years.
The sound kept on getting louder. He remained frozen as his hands had begun to shake. Something was stirring within him. He had met something unfamiliar and had to come up with a new response. Finally, he dropped the tools and looked in the direction of the sound. The frozen lines were trying to move on his face. He felt his face will break into pieces. His mind had begun to work overtime to understand the pictures being captured through his eyes. The still eyes were being forced to come out of their slumber. He saw a few bodies in uniform standing at a little distance from him. The sound was still coming from their direction though it still didn’t mean anything to him. The lines on the face of one of the body in uniform moved. It seemed to be smiling. He was horrified and quickly turned back to pick up his tools.

The Exit

I am very happy for you Abdullah, said the Jailor.
We all are very happy for you Abdullah, said Rahim the Sub-Inspector as he touched his shoulder.
He stood blank trying to hold everything being thrown at him. Sound had begun to be formed out of worlds. Though they still didn’t mean much.
You are a free man now. I know seven years are a lot of life. But many such years are still left. I hope you can start your life again, said the jailor as he extended his hand towards Abdullah.
He kept looking at the jailor’s face for long. The frozen lines on his face had begun to straighten up. His mind was trying to store all the words so that he can understand them later. Abdullah looked at jailor’s extended hand and looked back at the jailor. He instinctively grabbed his hand with both of his and shook vigorously as his face cringed to express gratitude.

Abdullah crossed the prison door leaving the jailor and his deputy behind it. The door was slowly closed on him. He heard the sound of it being locked from behind as his gaze was fixed on the road ahead. His body was still bent forward and he was feeling very uncomfortable in his new clothes. He tried to adjust his body in them to get the familiar feel. The clothes were loose for him. Years had made him thin. Irritated, he took out the clothes and held them in his hand and began to walk.
He was walking slowly. The road was empty and deserted. He didn’t know where it leads to. Not that it mattered. It was a new world to him and he was not liking it.
His pace increased as he kept on walking. Every now and then he will notice something pass by him but before he could respond, it would be gone. He was not used to so much activity. But he kept on walking. There was no reason why he should, but there was no reason why he shouldn’t either.
It had been hours since he had been walking. Things around him had begun to change more quickly. More people were passing him by now. He was able to make eye contact with them. But before he could see their face, they would pass him by. Some of them seemed to say something to him. But he was unable to both look at them and hear what they were saying. But he kept on walking.
The street was getting busier, and noisier. There were vehicles on it. He felt naked. He got into his trousers and held his shirt over his shoulders. He was trying to cross the road. As he reached in the middle of it he could hear loud sounds of horns. Someone of shouting at him. He stood there, motionless. Soon there were many more, shouting at him.
Who is this idiot, someone was saying.
Are, take him off the road, said someone else.
A policeman approached and stood in front of Abdullah. He was the first familiar thing he had seen since he stepped out of the prison. Abdullah looked at the policeman hoping to hear the words they always said, this way.
Who are YOU?, he said instead.

The Dog

The police van left him near the sea.
God knows where do they come from, said the policeman before pushing him down the van.
Abdullah stood on the sea shore. The sun was beginning to set. He began walking again.
The water touched his feet and he shivered. The shirt dropped from his shoulders. He kept on walking. He was waist deep into the water now. His trouser had become too heavy. He took it off and kept on walking. His eyes were fixed into the horizon. All sounds were beginning to cede.
He was now chest deep into the water. A wave was approaching him. He stood waiting for it. As the wave approached him, he held the ground with his toes. The wave hit him hard and threw him back. He began to flounder and moved abruptly to stand up again. He had been shaken. He was beginning to enjoy the game with the sea. The two played together for some time. The waves will throw him off his feet and he will fight back on his feet, ready to face it again.
The sea was getting serious now. It was no more just a game to it. It was time to get it over with, it thought. It fell silent for a moment. Abdullah, stood up and planted his feet firmly on the ground this time. He could see a big mighty wave approaching him from a distance. He clinched his faced as deep lines on his face resurfaced but this time had a slightly altered position. He closed his eyes and began to wait for the sea.
With his eyes closed and body tense, he began to hear some voices. Images were emerging in his head. A man was sitting in a big office. It had well cushioned chairs. There were paintings on the wall. His phone kept on ringing. The place spoke of riches. He always appeared to have this irritating expression. He kept on smiling. Now the same man was driving a car. It was a big car, a huge car, riches’ car. This man kept on appearing in his head. He was in the middle of a meeting now, talking boldly and he would be among a gathering of thousands receiving something from someone else on stage, the next moment. This man seemed to have it all. Abdullah didn’t like this man. He tried to shirk him out of his mind. A new face appeared this time. It was of a woman. He hadn’t seen any in years. She had a very smooth face. There were no marks on her face. But she didn’t seem to be wearing anything. Her face was bearing an expression he didn’t know. She seemed in pain. She seemed in pleasure. But he couldn’t see anything other than her face. There was something covering it but it was not a piece of cloth. It was someone’s body. There was someone on top of her. He could see his back clearly. Who are they?, he wondered as the first man reappeared, this time on the door of the woman’s room. His eyes were flaring.
The scenes were changing very fast now. There was absolute mess. He could see the first man standing in the court. He could see the woman, the second man shouting at him. He is impotent, she was saying. Abdullah felt as if she is saying this to him. You have cheated our firm, the second man screamed at him. He saw many more men. A doctor, a lawyer, man on the street, anyone who read newspaper, everyone who liked to hear gossip, the whole world. They all had gathered around him and screaming hoarse with their finger raised. Y..o...u……a..r..e……t..h..a..t…….m..a..n.., they were saying.
He wanted to escape. He wanted his peace back. He wanted these images to go away. He opened his eyes and saw the wave standing right ahead of him waiting to submerge him. He was undeterred by it. A tense calm was spread on his face as he realized many a things. The man was him, the woman his wife. The second man his friend and the business partner. He had lost seven years behind prison and everything he had outside it.
The wave hit him and swept him off his feet. He didn’t resist this time and was drowned under it.
He sank to the bottom of the sea. His chest was choking. He had begun to gulp water but he sat still. The tension was evaporating from his face with only calmness remaining on it. His lungs were bursting with water. He began to feel a gentle scratch on his chest from outside. He didn’t feel the bursting of his lungs but could feel the scratch. Finally, I am dead for real, he thought. He serenely opened his eyes. He saw a dog in front of him. It was struggling hard to swim against the wave. Abdullah watched the dog dispassionately and told him, just a few seconds more and we both would be absolved of it. The dog seemed to have read Abdullah’s mind. He pulled himself closer to Abdullah. Dog’s eyes were filled with fear and they were pleading Abdullah for help. Abdullah looked at the Dog with scorn and pushed it back. He closed his eyes again and waited for his lungs to burst completely. The Dog, furious at Abdullah pulled himself with all his might. He came closer to Abdullah and struck hard on his chest with his paw. Abdullah, opened his eyes, they were red with fury. The water around him filled with his blood as it dripped from his chest. Their eyes met and he saw Dog’s meek eyes smoldering. The dog was still trying to hit upon Abdullah but was getting carried away by the mighty wave. The fury dissipated from Abdullah’s face and he broke into a loud laughter. He held the dog with his both hands and stood up out of the water and wave. The wave went up once again as Abdullah stood with open eyes on firm ground. It began to recede after that leaving the two and didn’t come back.
Abdullah put the dog on the ground. You are my friend, my only friend said Abdullah as it began to rub its ears against his legs in gratitude. The two began to walk with the dog leading the way.

And Along came Buddha

2007-09-17T03:54:00.000-07:00

Without intent, have been hearing, reading and viewing about Buddha quite often over past few days. An animation movie on Buddha was being shown on the television. News paper carried an article about Deepak Chopra’s biopic on Buddha. A friend talked about Buddha and his way of Nirvana. He talked about how he feels about life and the day-to-day occurrences related to it. He said he doesn’t enjoy them. He feels they are way too ordinary and common place to feel elated about. They do not in any way provide a meaning to life. And what doesn’t provide a meaning could not be an emotion worth living. Right? Well, I definitely couldn’t refute his point of view. But I couldn’t agree with him as well. Does an individual not perform the day to day activities once he has found meaning of life? What does he do all day? Are these seemingly little moments really so little and worthless? But then I want to live all of them for they are all there seem to be in life. Anyway, this is not about me, this is about Buddha.

Why did Buddha talk about what he did talk about? Why did Buddha say that life is a cycle of birth and death and is full of sorrows? Why did he say that to get out of it is Nirvana? What made him suggest the eight-fold way to lead life which can save us from sorrow. Why was he so horrified of sorrow, if I may say so? And why is it that we, the ordinary folk are so very comfortable with a world full of sorrow that we want to live in it and face each day with an optimism of a perfect tomorrow. Though each one of us knows that there is never going to be a perfect tomorrow. That such a day has never come for anyone, ever. And if it has ever come, it has never stayed for long.
So why? Why is Buddha so concerned about something which even a common individual feels so comfortable with?

Answer may lie in Buddha’s life. The man that he was and the experiences he went through. A man of riches, a man who knew no sorrow. All he witnessed was pleasure. All he savored was life. Sun rose to give him light and dusk happened to let him play in the moon-light. All this continued till one day. The one very day when he stepped out of his palace and saw the other side of the coin. The sun rose because it has to. It went down because it had to. For each drop of pleasure he had, there was a coinciding side of sorrow. For each fruit he savored, someone had labored. For each man that was born, someone had died. And suddenly he just saw two sides of life, . Life and death. Pleasure and sorrow. Dusk and dawn. Unlike others who see it in unison, he saw it in two distinct pieces. And it tormented him. How can I savor something which will not last? How can I live in a moment of happiness if I know the source of it will soon fade and eventually die? He had always lived believing in eternity of the life and all the pleasures it brought with it. Now that he could see the futility of it, the fragility of it, the transience of it, he couldn’t enjoy anything anymore. He probably traveled from place to place, people to people, hoping to find one such place, where the moment stays. Trying to find one such piece of life, which would not change. Looking for that truth which can not be questioned. Which can be his companion for life and beyond and which will never change. Till he could find such a thing, these was no peace, only torture. There was no life, only questions. A child was born, lets celebrate, people said. But why?, asked Buddha. For he is going to die someday. He will grow and go through pain and suffering. Why should we celebrate something which is full of horrors? The question, the doubt and cynicism became his life. His each and every moment was filled with this question which seemed unanswerable. The quest was quenched only when he found his own answers. His own set of principles, his own truth. When he accepted life as a cycle of birth and death, of pleasure and sorrow. When he accepted that there is no getting away from it till we are in it. And that moment he became Buddha. He became the consciousness which lives this truth. The spirit which believes in it, is shaped by it. His response to each moment of life, each question of his followers came from one pot, that life is full of sorrow and everything in it is cyclic.

But then, it is not just about Buddha. It is about each one of us. We look at life with our own consciousness. It may not be so very much defined though. It may just be an unsaid, not-so-well-understood set of experiences, beliefs and motivations. But then it is, whether we know about it or not. We all are our own living Buddhas. Our Buddha may not be so evolved though. And who am I or anyone else to say who is evolved. Buddha, the evolved one, could very well be the most under-developed. He didn’t understand one basic fact of life, that it is transient. But then he was evolved because he knew his own version of truth. He was Buddha because not only he knew it, he lived with it. He was Buddha because his each moment was infused with his consciousness, which was so clear, lucid and consistent.

Story In The Making

2007-09-08T11:54:00.000-07:00

Friends, below are tit-bits of a story which is cooking in my head. I am not sure at the moment how these seemingly discreet parts will come together. Your comments on them could actually be quite useful. The cast is based on a set of friends from IIMA days,

In order of appearance........
Pinky = Heavent Malhotra
Betaal = Vi(Bi)shnoo Mittal
Fondle = Vivek Kumar Agarwal

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He held the gun using both of his hands and pointed at him. He didn’t wince. He refitted his fingers around the trigger as his mouth got filled with spit. Sweat had begun to pour down his temple as it reached his eyes. His face tightened and his eyes closed as sweat entered it. His hands shook up and down along with the gun. One, two and fire, fire, fire. Still…wait..still..no sound..deafening silence. He quickly opened his eyes and closed it again. His face straightened and eased. He opened his eyes, wiped sweat off it with his arm and re-pointed the gun. He could hear the sounds once again and could see everything clearly now. His left a heavy sigh and fire, fire, fire.

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The heat was blazing. Pinky looked up towards the sky. The sun-light was getting filtered through the tall and dense trees of Amazon.
Imagine what it would have been like if there were no tree, said Betaal as he stood next to Pinky and began looking up with him.
Pinky ignored Betaal and kept looking up. I mean what intensity of heat. Despite dense trees we are almost sweating. Think what could have happened without them, Betaal continued.
It is not about the trees Betaal. You do not get it, said Pinky, finally looking away from the sun and fixing his gaze in the far away horizon.
Betaal looked up at the sun once again and then followed Pinky’s gaze but couldn’t find anything of interest at its end. He finally decided to quit getting into a conversation with Pinky and moved towards their make-shift hut.

He entered the hut and found that it was still the same way he had left a couple of hours before. Something had begun to irritate him. He came out of the hut fuming and called out to Pinky.
Have you seen Fondle. Where is that idiot. I had asked him to put a few more woods inside the hearth. Pinky, still lost in his reverie, noticed Betaal’s shout. He looked in his direction but his eyes were still looking beyond him. For a moment Betaal felt that Pinky is going to say something but soon his hope faded as Pinky nodded his head sideways and began moving away from the hut towards the deeper part of forest.
Splash, came a sound from behind Betaal. What the hell is happening, he thought. Who could make that sound. Has someone followed us here? For a moment he thought of calling upon Pinky but quickly decided against it. He brought out his gun from his pocket and loaded a magazine in it as he began to trace the sound. Splash, there was one more of it. Betaal, now panicking, decided against facing the source of sound. The sound was coming from behind the hut. A large tree stood between him and the tree. Its branches went well beyond the hut. He stuffed the gun in his trouser and began climbing the tree. He climbed it and moved on one of its branch. He was now on the other end of the hut. He could see someone standing close to the hut with his back towards him. He couldn’t see very clearly due to the other tree branches blocking his view. The stranger was not moving as if trying to listen something. What the hell, what the hell, what the hell. Who the hell could follow us here. Bloody bugger this is not a good beginning. But what the hell. If I can not handle this, we should have come on this trail. Betaal readied himself for what could follow and loaded his gun. He pressed the trigger slightly and could almost feel the bullet muzzling inside it stifling to come out. He took his position and stood on the branch. He gave himself a slight push and jumped.
He began running towards the intruder as soon as he touched the ground. Before the intruder could understand anything Betaal was all over him. He threw him down and leaped over him. He hardly gave any time to him to react. He held his arm and twisted him on his back and with other hand he pointed the gun on the back of his head.
Stay like that, who are you? What were you looking for here? Who ahs sent you? Who the hell are you?, Betaal threw a flurry of questions at him as the intruder failed to react and was obviously taken aback by this sudden attack.

His voice choked and he tried to move his head as Betaal held it in his hand and put it still. His face had tightened and blood had shot in his eyes. The usual smile of his had given way to a tight grinning of teeth. Something within wanted him to explode and pull the trigger. Familiar scenes had begun to float in his head. He could hear a mob of hundred people pounding the door of his house with their fists. He was running scared and had closed his ears but the sound refused to fade away. He could still hear those sounds. They were filling up his head right now as his finger on trigger was getting tightened. He hated intruders. He hated people who entered his territory. He hated anyone who encroached upon his land. He had no mercy for them. He couldn’t do anything to them then but he had promised to himself that no one will ever dare threaten what is mine.

Short Story - English - Coffee and Chocolate Brownie

2007-09-07T14:07:00.000-07:00

Poem - English - Possessed

2007-09-06T23:05:00.000-07:00

across the sea...
in the blue end be
a little solace ...
in a lonely place
with trees so dark
with glowing bark ..
leaves which glisten
as I listen
sounds of heart
pounding so fast
as I cross
roads so crass
leading to an end
then having a bend
as I walk
the lonely path
I shun the world
purge the mind
drew the blind
as I kneel
over the pond
and plucked some water
between my plams
and in it were you
looking at me .

i turned behind
only to find
a distant hill
beyond the chill ...
and i rushed
with all my might
having the distant
knoll in sight
trees cried
so did the sea
dont go, dont go
o wanderer knight
but possessed I was
with your only sight
i jumped the tree
and crossed the sea
only to find
everything but thee
and i sat
gasping for breath
as I longed
a little solace
in a lonely place ......

Dream Recount - the lost world and the temptations

2007-09-06T11:00:00.000-07:00

This one is a long dream. It was set up in the backdrop of my school (where I studied till class XII). It was a boarding school and I studied there for 7 years.

I see myself standing in the corridor of my hostel. It was a single story building with rooms on three side and a boundary on the fourth side.At the centre of the hostel was a badminton court. It was evening time and as usual there were many kids in the hostel compound, playing. As usual a badminton was going on with a few spectators. Other guys and gals were indulging in indoor games (Chess/ carom etc).

I stand in the corridor feeling a bit nostalgic. I am wearing a long black overcoat. Now I notice that there are more girls in the compound than there are boys. Also I find that girls are actually dominating over guys and it seems they command them. Also most of these kids were smoking and to my surprise more girls were smoking than were boys. I start wondering how time has changed. When I was in school it used to be other way around. No. of girls used to be much less and guys used to call shots. Also smoking was almost unheard of at that age.

Now, I start feeling out of place as I am not smoking. So I search in my overcoat pocket and find a thin, long cigarette in it. I take it out and start smoking slowly. I exhale puff slowly as if in a deep cognitive mood.

Now,I just feel like going to the roof of the hostel as I used to do in childhood. There were no stairs for the roof and we used to use water drainage pipe for climbing up the roof. I climb on the roof through the pipe and start looking on the school campus while standing on it.

At that time I find that my friend "Deepanjan Mukherjee" (He worked in the same software company as was I) is standing by my side. At that time we notice a bike on the gate of hostel (which is directly opposite to the side of hostel we are standing on). Mounted on the bike is a lady who is wearing black tank top and black shorts. She is also wearing a veil over her face and is also donning driving gloves. Also, she is quite hot. One thing peculiar about her was that she had two strips of small spots running down her things to her black gum boots. ( In real life a couple of days earlier I and my friend were discussing about a model's pic, when I jokingly commented that she has a small spot on her thing so I do not like her).

Anyway, at this moment she starts her bike and makes a half round within the hostel premise thus now she is positioned directly under the side of hostel I am standing on. Thus she is no more visible to me. Next second I see her docking on the roof on the other end.(Her bike had taken a path through air to land on roof).

Me and my friend "Deepanjan" become curious of her now and start wondering about who she is. Suddenly it dawns upon us that she is one of our movie star "Mamta Kulkarni" (She was a fascination to me in adolescence days). We rush towards her. But at this time we find things around us changing. Now we find ourselves on top of a sprawling multistory building with many wings to it. Also there are many people around us of various races (Blacks, whites and like). Most of them appeared very shady and some of them were selling a white powder. They were looking uncultured ant anti-social. There were gays around and very scantily clad women pouting.

Now it struck to me that we are actually in a prostitution centre (As the scene resembled prostitution street of Amsterdam, Netherlands; where I had been a year ago in real life). Thus me and my friend conclude that the actress "mamta Kulkarni" is probably operating as prostitute here. We decide that we will go and get her. We try to search for her in the crowd but can not find her on the roof. Thus we decide to go downstairs. As we keep going down we find that crowd is thinning out with each floor. Also we can not find the actress. But we decide to keep moving down till we find her.

Now, as we are moving downstairs (the staircase was a long, circular and spiral one) we start feeling a bit curious. As the place starts feeling damp and a bit dark. Also we can no more hear sound of people from floors above. While moving down we come across a small window on the side of the staircase. We find it strange and peep into the window. What we see shocks us. We find a girl lying on a table in the center of the room with her hands and legs tied. Also there was a cloth in her mouth. She was surrounded by a few masked people who were chanting something incomprehensible.

At this moment one of them raise his hand above him and a sharp knife shines in his hand. We are petrified as it occurs to us that we are witnessing some sacrificial scene. (This whole scene had close resemblance with scene common in Phantom(the ghost who walks, I am sure you know of this character) comics which I was fan of as a kid)Now in that anxious moment we stumble upon a vessel which was lying near to us. Vessel falls on ground making big sound.

The sound alarms the masked man with knife in hand and he turns around and sees us snooping. He orders something to rest of people (In a language we can not understand). Intuitively we could figure out that he has ordered to capture and probably kill us. Thus both of us start running downstairs. As we keep running downstairs we could hear footsteps of people chasing us becoming more and more clear.

At this moment we decide to take a more quicker route. We use centre pillar of stair case as a pole and rotate ourselves around it thus directly reaching to floor below without having to travel steps. Thus we start moving down fast. But still we find that we are not able to avoid danger. Also, floors downstairs keep getting more damp, uninhabited and dark. Thus we decide to move out of the building into the wings.

We move towards a wing and crossing it we jump on next building. At this moment we could see a large city sprawling ahead of us with houses and buildings so close to each other that we could directly jump from one to another. Thus we keep jumping from one to other structure and city keeps on expanding.

End of dream (Igot up buddy..Thank GOD..!!)

Human Touch: The Restless One

2007-09-06T10:45:00.000-07:00

Restlessness:

Symptoms:
How many times have you felt restless with life. As if everything is moving away or out of your control. You are unsure of what life may throw and are uncomfortable with this unsettling part. The surprises it may have in store may not be to your liking. What if?
The funny thing is, when you try and answer the basic question; “What is it that is going wrong, what may go wrong that you are not ready for?” there is no answer.

There is another kind of restlessness, the restlessness of a searching soul. He is not wary of the surprises that life will throw, not afraid of unsettlement. The issue there is, “why is it not-happening?”. You have everything you want. You do not know what are you missing. You are happy or can not think of a reason to complain, but funny thing is you can not put your mind at one place for long. Nothing holds your attention for long, sooner or later you tend to grow weary. The continuous trial-n-error build up a talent powerhouse but it never gets applied. And the person is left wondering “Will I ever feel complete. Will I ever be able to sit and say “This is all I wanted at this moment and I just want it to stay like it is” rather than “This moment is fun but I wonder what will the next moment have in store for me.”

Source:
In one line, it emerges from not having a corner which gives you semblance of completeness. To some people it comes easy. They are either very practical people or people with strong support system. Mostly a secure and comforting parentage can lead to lowering of anxiety. Also, people with a strong Child state in them can have it plenty.
Most kids have it but as they grow, their anxieties keep getting abated as they realize themselves, find answers to most of their questions or simply stop asking. Those who do not, find themselves living an extended childhood but as they say, sooner or later everyone grows up except Peter Pan.
Restless energy can be channelized for creative pursuits or exploratory energy. Shah-rukh Khan appears to have it in abundance. Abhay Deol on the contrary had none of it.

What it can lead to if not addressed:
Long and extended periods of restlessness can lead to weariness. Restless energy has the potential to be very productive if channelized properly. If the person involved does not find a way for doing so, with time the realization of potential vs. achievement will sink in bringing in the frustration along.

What if it is addressed:
Trust in a restless soul’s ability to spring surprises. Most of the path-breaking findings are a result of such restless energy. Practical people do not look into unknown or what is not present but rather understand what is available and accept it. Such people have a continuous and steady success rate in life. They are people who make incremental improvements to life and anything they are involved in. They can be trusted and relied upon to execute a well-understood task.
Focus of restless people is in contrast to it. Their perennial search for what is missing leads to their questioning every assumption and way of doing thing. They have an unsteady success rate and it is often in leaps interspersed with long periods of stagnation and even regression.

What to do if you are a restless soul:
Restlessness emerges from the feeling of detachment with the surroundings. To curb it one needs to find something he or she feels strongly attached to. This attachment will work like an anchor for you. It could be a person to live for, an activity or a cause to work for. It should be strong enough to suck the individual’s all the scattered energy.
Finding such a person or cause may not be easy and may take longer than your imaginations. It will be advisable if you learn to act little practically till you find your alchemist.

What to do if you have a restless soul in your team:
You have to begin by understanding one thing. You can not control it, you can just guide it by gentle push in the intended direction. Put him on tasks which are unstructured. They provide him a sense of discovery which is so very dear to them. Give them flexibility and keep a check that they do not wander to far from the intended track.

What to do if you have a restless son/spouse:Again, the solution lies in understanding the person’s needs and intentions. First thing to understand is that this person’s actions are not always result of a desire for what he does not have but discontentment from what he does. He may stray or indulge in activities you do not approve of. But he/she is doing it in a vein hope to find something which will give him/her a sense of completion and put his restlessness at rest for a while. Restraining him/her from doing so will only abet his will to do so. Letting him/her do it will ensure that as soon the realization of futility of actions dawns upon him/her, they will come back to you.

Poem - English - A Wondeful Lie (Meant For Juice NB)

2007-09-03T00:00:00.000-07:00

(It was written as a Post on Juice Notice Board - Official trash box at IIMA)

It all started the day I was born ..
Yes it all started right there..
A fakir passing by glanced upon me,
and remarked "Iska Kuchh Kho gaya Hai"
So I was named "Khoya"...
and since then..
"main kabhi chain se nahin soya"

With the passage of time
I grew to find that I am to find something
that destiny has taken something from me
and hid it in some treasure for me to explore
to find the metal from the ore
to find the truth out of fake galore
I got enrolled into school
and on very first day I lost my tiffin box ..
and my cute teacher remarked
"Beta ( :(((( ) , kya hua ...
u r looking worried ..
and the little idiot girl next to me said
"Iska Kuchh kho gaya hai" !!!

As I kept bumping from one class to another
I kept losing some or more of one or more things
kabhi marks , kabhi socks ,
kabhi key "to" kabhi locks
I kept my search on from rocks to rocks!!

amidst all this chaos ,
my only solace
was the movie "Ram aur Shyaam"..
the original khoya-paya movie ..
I watched it once,twice,thrice till power failed
and formulated a theory
"Whatever is lost must be found"
thus lost = found
how does that sound ..?????

Soon I moved to college from school
and found myself amidst several beautiful "phools"
and I plucked a bud which colored red
and proposed to girl under the shed
and my friends remarked
"Iska kuchh kho gaya hai" ("Dil" / Character)
the journey continued and in the rubble
I kept losing something of me...
till I lost it all..
yes one fine day I found I have lost my vision
my reason for existence ..
my search ..
what was it that the fakir has said
what was it that kept happening to me..
I forgot it all and time skipped a few "saal"

a vision lost is a man lost..
and so was I as if sun in a deep frost ..
i was to be this way forever..
till some thing happened to me..
walking along the aisle of @@@ by the corner of my eye,
with a smile ever so shy ..
I saw..I saw..I saw..reason of all why..

I saw U..
and I knew..
why I kept losing a little of me every day
why..why..I felt its all worth it..
why..
for u were embodied with all that I had lost ..
the childhood charm,
the teen enthusiasm ..
the coy smile..
like serene river of nile ..
it was all there and more
like a manicured pile ..
And I stood there for a long while ..
and standing I still am..
to bring to end this destiny's game ..
as i declare.. @@@@@@ ,
u r the one !!!!

Poem - English - Life (Oldest)

2007-09-02T23:50:00.000-07:00

Life,
the burning fire
Its all till it is there
its warm,
its blazing
its flames surps up
consumes whatever is thrown into it
makes place
for what it cant consume
keeps adjusting,
keeps expanding
natures's forces,
wind, temperature
give it shape
make it to change
and it changes
but keeps burning
people, flock it
relish on it,
its warmth, its light
praise it, envy it,
and it responds,
its flame surps up
and then comes the moment of realization
the nightingale coos from the dark,
and the owl nods in yes
squirrel comes out of its tiny warm home
peeps over dwindling fire
sheds a tear or two
goes to its room
and kisses its two
small buddies lightly on cheek
they smile and say
whats the matter mom
nothing my dear, says she
wipes the tear
and slips into bed
knowing that the fire
down the tree, its home
has now turned into amber
the people flocking it have gone
and so have the ever surping flames
so, in the morning
when children get up
they will miss the heat
and will say
o! the great burning fire
who warmed us in winter
you turned to amber
we didn't know
we are so sorry
please forgive us
for it was mom!
o! loving mom!
who didn't tell us;
Now, you have turned to ashes,your memories;
but we remember you
and miss you
we didn't tell you
but we love you
then came a gust of wind
and the ashes,
the memories
were swept away
it spread over a field
looking to the heaven..!!
some angel passing by
heard the two squirrels crying
and said,
o! flame of light
o! flame of heat
ashen you might have been
forgotten you might have been
but died, you have not,
for the deeds of yours
I give you one full point,
and the field you got spread over
I bless it with life,
soon the paddy will grow it over
and you will live in the memoir
I wanted to do some more
but oh! how sorry I am,
I can't make you alive
o! how sorry I am,
for it is out of my power
and oh!
and he broke in tears;
and then, there was GOD,
watching the flame
hearing the squirrel
listening to angel;
he smiled and said
o! my angel
how sorry I am!
how cruel of me!
for it was me
who made you bound;
who made squirrel cry;
who made the fire ashen;
but oh! what I can do
for it is to happen;
squirrel can't change it,
nor can you
and what to say more,
even I can't do,
for it is the way,
the mystery of world goes,
which they call,
Life! Life! Life!

Dream Recount - Mystery Channel

2007-09-02T05:46:00.000-07:00

I am working as servant in a home. Home is spacious and modern and reflects upper middle class living. There is a big drawing room in the front with several other room's opening into it. There is a channel gate in front of the drawing room. The house is surrounded by a large boundry (similar to boundry of my college campus). Outside house there are street-shops of vegetable vendors. Inside, house is clean, tiled. there is a shoulder height cabin in the drawing room.

I am actually a spy in the house disguised as a servant. While I am standing in the drawing room I see my cousin passing by from one room to another room through the drawing room. And I realise I am spying in my cousin's home. I am a bit surprised as to what am I actually doing here and how is my cousin linked in something that requires spying.

Soon I see a big silver car getting parked outside the main gate of the house. I go towards the car and find that a black spectacled person is sitting inside the car who lowers the window as he sees me approaching. I get into the car and am surprised to see that my module leader from erstwhile company is the person inside the car (I worked at Infosys Technologies Ltd. a software organization earlier).

He tells me that my assignment has got over and I should escape from the house. I argue that easiest way to get away is through his car. He is a trifle pained at this sugestion and explains to me that I am working as a servant in the house and escaping in a luxury car will arouse suspicion. So, I go back to the house and start looking for some precious thing so that my escape appears like a theft and run incident. I steal a necklace and a bucket of water. I take the two outside the house where a mule is parked and I escape riding on it.

Poem - English - Grave of a Stranger I Knew So Well

2007-09-02T05:26:00.000-07:00

I thot I knew him,
that he is all that
and nothing more
and he is perfect
and that little
impishness of his
makes him even
more endearing
that he doesnt care
what happens to him
nor of what happens
to one he knows
or to ones who know him

I thot he wont change
i thot he is perennial
i wondered why
is he like
what he is
bcoz he is supposed
to be like that
and the little imp
smiled so wickedly
and said..my friend
i just wanna be
this way coz
its the only way..!!

and one day
when we visited
a graveyard having
a fresh grave
he stopped by
and wondered
why it so very fits
his size
and suddenly all
his impishness
drained out of him
he looked at me
with never before
sincereity
as i looked at him
confused, surprised
is it the same face
i have seen so
many times
and wondered..
and i was wondering
even more right now
as he said..friend
everything happens
with a purpose
and so is this grave
and he slipped into it
slowly his knees
touched the ground
and then his hands
as his head bowed
so did two set of tears

these tears are for u
for I lied to you
all the time
i was what i was
not bcoz thats
the only way
but the easy way,
i cudnt face
the reality
that i so very
hated myself
but i persisted
for i cud not bear
u knowing of it
so i thot i was
fooling u
but inturn
i was escaping me
and now its all over
and two more set
of blood was shed
and this is for myself
for the me which
cud never cum out
who is going to die
today with me
without getting born
and am not sad for me
for i have lived
my life but for him
for he will never know
what he has missed
and he spread all over
the grave, as wind blew
and shrouded it with earth.....

Poem - English - Sublime Love

2007-09-02T05:20:00.000-07:00

As I close my eyes
and wander in the alter world
I see many a images
I see stars
and I see them smiling
I see them moving
across the sky,
to greet one other
there I see a broken star
and then another
and then many more
and one of them
passed so close by
I could hear it whisper
I came down for you dear
and so have all others

I sitting along the beach
threw a pebble in the calm sea
and it gobbled it with glee
and then came a mighty wave
and almost wet my feet
as it splattered a few drops
across my face which slid
through my ears as if to say
thankyou my friend thankyou
for I was so hungry for so long

It was such a chill outside
I sitting close to fireplace
blew a gust in it
and it usurped as if dancing
enchanted with holy delight
there were ambers all around
and they made a purring sound
we burn ourselves for you
and its sure worth every pound
and they whished into ashes

Amazing things happen
when I think of you..............

Poem - English - A Passage through Heart

2007-09-02T05:03:00.000-07:00

my heart
is a maze of caves
its dark, its long
its criss crossed
many live there
and i dont know
many visit it
and dont stay
many more are there
and homage they pay

i am wandering in them
tracing lanes
finding remnants
of what once was
a synagogue...
and met several faces
floating in thin air
they smiled at me
i replied back
and they vanished
from where they came,
thin air..

i kept moving
one to another,
it became
dim to darker,
with eack step
it grew starker
and I had never
been there before
who all live there
i was not so sure
along i saw
a glitter of light
what happened to be
a pond of love
and i sat beside
wondering,
who filled it,
and sudenly i felt
i am too tired,
and i fell asleep
over the corner
dreaming of faces
i had never met before,
they were playing
in a small field
and calling upon me
to join them in it
as i sat over the fence,
i raised my small hand
they were far off
they raised their hand
it was still short
the hands stretched
to hold one-another
and we kept getting thinner
till it all turned into smoke
and i woke up
to reality to find
it was all just that
smoke of thin air
and i felt
pang somewhere
near chest,
but strangely
all across my face
all i had
was a serene smile...............

Poem - English - Can You....

2007-09-02T04:52:00.000-07:00

Did U See Me Myth Love,
In The Middle Of Your Road,
Which U Happened To passesth By,
Leaving me at end of Myth Road

Did U feel me Myth Love
In the heat of morning sun,
When it touched your quivering lips,
U kissed them and blesseth away,

Did U Know It Myth Love
When I hugged U With The Wind
U Let It Enter In Ur Room
When U Blew the Curtain Away

Can U Sense me Myth Love
Smiling at You From these lines,
Smile if you can sense me myth love..
Smile if You cant and u will
See Me smiling myth Love !!!

Dream Recount - It Rained Dogs

2007-09-02T02:11:00.001-07:00

I am standing near a railway crossing. Above the railway crossing is a road. An upward sloping pathway starts from the point of railway crossing and meets the road above.

Intersectingly the railway crossing is a road perpendicular to the road above.On this road I see a few buildings on both side. On the left hand side of road is a building ( Supposedly a hospital) and has a small gate. I cross the railway crossing and enter into the building. Here one of my batch mate and friend (Sachin Tulshyan) is sitting and preparing a report related to medical industry. Around him I can see a few more guys of my Institute.

He starts asking me a few questions related to medical industry which he requires for his report. I show my ignorance to the field. I start feeling a bit disappointed as I am not of any help to him. Beside my friend there is a girl who is also our batch mate. She tells my friend Sachin that she has a Doctor boy friend who can help him. She calls her boyfriend and starts asking him questions that Sachin requires. Now, I start feeling out of place and move out of the building.

Outside the building I see a bus stop where a few people are standing, waiting for the bus. One bus arrives at the spot and a middle-aged woman who has also been waiting for the bus starts asking fellow people whether bus goes to Gurdaspur (A city in western state of Punjab in India. This woman is plump, bulky and Punjabi. She speaks the regional language of Punjab. The person tells her that the bus indeed goes to Gurdaspur. On this the woman says, You did not understand the question. What I mean is whether this bus goes to exact Gurdaspur or to some place little ahead or earlier to Gurdaspur. No..no, It goes exactly to Gurdaspur, the man replies. I am amused by this conversation which I amply express through my body language. I nod my head side-ways, smile with myself as if saying "Poor chap, got struck at the wrong place".

Now I start moving back to the Railway crossing. I start moving up the upward sloping path (Which I have described in the first passage). It comes to my mind that there is a road side cloth market on the road above the Railway crossing. I start wondering if I should purchase a t-shirt from there.

On the upward sloping path there are few stray dogs and also a few monkeys. Now these dogs start forcing me to take a decision regarding buying cloths. Now, I start feeling hassled by coaxing of dogs into making me buy cloths, and it gets amply evident in my facial grimaces. Now dogs more or less start chasing me, I start running up the pathway and after a while make a jump towards the left side of the road, thus dodging the dogs who keep moving straight thus passing me by. Now all this is being watched by a big bully monkey who is standing at a distance from me on the upward sloping pathway . He is also in the similar business as were dogs. He is infuriated at my guile (shown in deceiving the dogs) and starts galloping towards me. I stand on the road still looking straight toward the galloping monkey. This monkey is long, big and ugly. His face is similar to Bulldog and he has a wide square grin with all his big teeth getting displayed.

Anyway, as the monkey comes near to me, I pull the slinger bag from my shoulder and hit the monkey with it with full force. The monkey hurls back flying in air. As I stand watching the monkey flying in air I am filled with a bit of apprehension on what might be reaction of other dogs and monkeys who might have witnessed the scene.

All this is being seen by a street urchin. He is dark, shabby and dirty. He gives a look to the monkey and then looks toward me. I am unable to understand the look at the urchin's face and am a little puzzled. At this moment the urchin starts running towards me and I sense animosity in his eyes and start running away from him( i.e. down the upward sloping pathway).

As I keep running downward, I reach the Railway crossing once again. As I find there is no way further to go, I stop and decide to face the urchin. I ask him, why is he chasing me. Why is he so concerned about a monkey. The urchin replies " You do not understand. Its a matter of principles to me." (Urchin makes this reply in English language). I am further puzzled at this reply. End of dream ( I got up at this moment).

Poem - English - The Courage Boat

2007-09-02T02:06:00.000-07:00

Down the dusty road
amidst gust
the self proclaimed
rusty bloke
tramples the track
wet by sweat
of the petrified legend
with molten heart

the shining abode
sends a chariot
with morning gleam
as charioteer
to fetch the rider
of courage boat
smiling as if kissing the beam
he looks away
to face the wind with open arms
as if to usurp
all of it in his palms
he turns and quirks
as messanger watches by
humbled am I for I am called by
the gateway of heaven
alas I seek
the passage to hell
for thats where
journey is pleasant
than the destination.................................................................

Poem - Hindi - Thora sa .. Thora sa..

2007-09-01T08:47:00.000-07:00

Thora sa main tanha tha, thora tha akela
Kuchh kuchh sabke jaisa tha, aur thora albela..

Urata tha yun hi pag-pag, badla karata tha bas har pal,
Aisa mujhko lagata tha par, tha main baitha bas jar hokar

Badala jata tha sab nabh-antar, gayab hote drishya jyon chho-mantar,
Mujhko kuch ahsaas sa tha par, kya chhota abhaas na tha

Patthar jaan mujhko sabne, dhakel diya phir door sarak par,
Ludhka kiya kuchh door yuhin main, phir jaga navchetan hokar

Aakhein khol jab khara hua main, drishya dekh kuchh dahal gaya main,
Ye to mera swapan nahin tha, swapan mera phir satya nahin tha…

Main hi main tha mere swapn main, yahan the sab par swayam nahin tha
Aakhein meechi aur daur para main, swapn bhula bas jyon jiya main

Is gati se main kab tak chalata, swapn ka aadi kab tak jagata,
Khuli aankh se sapana dekh raha hoon, usko jeena seekh raha hoon..

Random Pieces

2007-09-01T08:43:00.000-07:00

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Written before the first break at IIMA)

Off I go, Out of the woods
towards the hill, where moon resides
O Sun, when you rise tomorrow
You will have a dull day at work
For I wont be there to greet you anymore...!!!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
some say I am intelligent, I think I am genius
some say I am witty, I think I am hilarious
some say I am sensitive, I think I am adorable
some say I am humble, I think I am bored
Rest say, You little moron and I say.. “How the hell did they find out…”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Abke jo ura hai man, to na jane kis mor pe thahrega
Kisi shaakh pe baithega ya kisi raah pe girega

Ek haath sa badhaya kisi ne, ek ahsas sa karaya kisi ne
Sir ghutanon main daba baitha tha, jab naam le bulaya kisi ne
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

ghalib nikale the ghar se bahar sookhate kapre utarane
duniya ne madad yun ki, jo pahane the wo bhi utaar diye

hamne urdu main sher sunaya, to wo kahane lage u are crazy..
bhai hamne to yun hi kah diya kuchh.. aap to marane lage angrezi

naati banaa diya kham-kha main hamein ghalib ka,
ghalib bhi pareshaan hai, mere dada bhi naraaz ho gaye

hamne unse kaha ki ham besahara hain,
to wo bole sahara ki flight shaam ko hai

HAIN wo kuchh juda se aur thore se gumshuda se,
jake unhain bula do, warna mil jayenge ham khuda se

wo hamse poochhte hain ki ye wafa kaun hai,
tum hi unhain bata do ki ham batayein kya

Ye husn ye badan ye jawani ki mahak, chaar din rahegi
meri aashiqui main rang ke dekh, umar bhar saath degi

Tera budhapa tujhe saath de raha hai bachpan se
Tu kis-kis ke bachpan ko jodega apne pachpan se

maana thora sang dil hai, seene main fadakate jazbaat nahin..
par aap bulayein ham na aayein, aise bhi bure halaat nahin..

kuchh unhone aazmaaya nahin, kuchh hamne bataya nahin..
kudarat bhi kuchh ajeeb hai, kabhi usne milaya hi nahin..

kuchh unhone aazmaaya nahin, kuchh hamne bataya nahin..
donon tarasate rah gaye, taqdeer ne milaya hi nahin

kah diya unhone hamko bihari, laga gayee baat dil ko ye bhari..
bhai saryu-teere rahate hain, ham hain lucknow ki umda kalakaari..
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kabhi sochata hoon main kuchh kahoon
Kabhi Sochata hoon main chup rahoon

Kabhi sochata hoon thora intelligent lagoon
phir sochata hoon jo hoon wo kyon banoon

ye bhi socha ek baar ki kuchh shayar sa banoon
koshish kar bhi na ban paya to kya karoon

Phir kuchh socha phir aur bhi socha
sochate sochate na sochane ka bhi socha

sab soch kar phir kuchh kar gujarane ka socha
kar gaya jo sab to kuchh na karane ka bhi socha

bahut din huye maine kuchh bhi naya hai na socha
main khush hoon ya gum hoon ye bhi hai na socha

main khush to hoon par nahin bhi hoon shayad
kyon sar khapaoon hai ye bekar ki kawayad

Main chalata hoon mad-mast jaise chalata hai chakka
bina soch kar bhi lagata hai kuchh socha hai pakka...
---------------------------------------------------------------------

if the game sucks I will play it
if it pays too well i will chuck it
I want everything but need nothing
cant say what but will be something

if you can like me I will love you back
if you hate me i will hold you and ask why
if you look at me and turn away I will cry
and I will do so till they run dry

when I chose to run will run too fast
I may not be first but will never be last
(poem not complete yet.. )

Poetry - English: End of World

2007-09-01T08:42:00.000-07:00

When World is coming to an end
When U know there is no tomorow
When There Is Nothing Left To Lose
For U Have Lost All Already,
When There Is No Fear, To be Conquered,
When All Wordly Affairs Lose Their Sheen,
Then Comes Forth The Heart
And Becomes The Man's Raining Queen ..
Today..Yes Today, I Feel The Same,
Fearless As A naked Monk,
Walking On This Lonely Road,
When All Sounds Are getting dimmed
When All Figures Are Getting Slimmed,
I Can Hear The Distant Bell,
Coming From My Heart's Well...
I Can Here Its Incessant Cry,
I Can Listen Its Inveterate Crave,
For It Had Never been So Grave,
And What I Hear Is Here For All,
XXXXX, I L U FOR ONCE AND ALL...

Poem - Hindi - Kuchh Azeeb

2007-09-01T08:41:00.000-07:00

Kuchh azeeb se hain mere dil ke andaaz,
Ki ye saaf saaf mujhse kuchh kahata hi nahin hai
Kuchh ishare se karata hai, kuchh nishaan se banata hai
Main poochata hoon kya hai to kuchh paheliyan si bujhata hai
Na zane ye mujhase khelata hai ya khud ko chhalata hai
Jab der ho jati hai, to khud hi to jar-jar rota hai

Kuchh azeeb sa hai ye insaan, kuchh samajhata hi nahin hai
Main kahata hoon yahan thahar ja, yahi basar kar, to hans sa parata hai,
Hataash main haath uthata hoon, to samajhata hai main ishara sa karata hoon
Door dikhati hain chiranga, to poochhata hai chal chalein kis ki taraf
Niraash main haath ghumata hoon to samajhata hai nishaan se banata hoon
Phir thak sa para main, to rone laga jar-jar
Samjhega mere dost ya bhatakega yuhin bar-bar…

Are, mat ro mere yaar, main le chalata hoon tujhe kahin aur,
Naya hoga manzar, nirali hogi wahan ki har baat
Bas afsos rehaga mujhe ki na samajhata hoon main teri zabaan
Aur har baar ki tarah phir mazboor ye dohrata hoon
Kuchh azeeb se hain mere dil ke andaaz,
Ki ye saaf saaf mujhse kuchh kahata hi nahin hai
Kuchh ishare se karata hai, kuchh nishaan se banata hai
Main poochata hoon kya hai to kuchh paheliyan si bujhata hai ……….

Poem - Hindi - Kis dagar

2007-09-01T08:38:00.000-07:00

Jane kis dagar ko chale the, jane kaun nagar pahunche
Jane kisko dhoodh rahe the, jane kiske dar pe thahre

Anjaani si shaam suhani, dhomil-madhdhim si kuchh thi
Yauvan main kuchh choor se the, bachpan sa kuchh dhoondh rahe the

Pag thamate the nazar nahin par, badan yahi tha man door kahin par
Chhaya ko chit pakar raha tha, usko asli roop samajhkar

Khud ko chhalate aur machalate, aisa hi kuchh khel rahe the
Kuchh kuchh to ham jeet rahe the, lekin sab kuchh haar chuke the

Timir vikat tha, man asmanjas main, rah pe ek bin mor khare the
Chalana tha par ruke huye the, karan sa kuchh dhoondh rahe the

Vyarth gaya yun samay bahut sa, chalate chalate oob chuke the
Man bola chal ghar chalate hain, uska pata par bhool chuke the

Yauvan main kuchh choor se the, bachpan sa kuchh dhoondh rahe the…..

Poetry - English: Woods are Dark and Deep

2007-09-01T08:02:00.000-07:00

I crossed the sea...
it was blue and black
it was dark and deep
it was rough and steep
it didnt let me fall asleep

i crossed the sea..
i burned the bridges
i roughed the edges
i left it all behind
churning its empty grind

i face the sea
..its dark and deep
its dark and deep
its rough and steep

i will change that all
..till then I wont go to sleep !!

Poetry - English: Lost in the Maze

2007-09-01T08:01:00.000-07:00

why it has to happen
and why this way only
it can happen many ways
but why it happens this way

I go wide and far
I go talk to the star
I go wild and crazy
and I become absolute mess

I feel it never happened before
I feel this will never happen again
I feel there is no way out of it
I feel this is going to be forever

I feel this is a new road
I never travelled before,
I do not find any trace
Of my travel on this road before

And I keep walking
As i keep talkingto myself,
to fellow travellers
but they see the end clearly
they have been on the road before

Why was I left out I ask
why have I not been here before
puzzled they look at me and say
ofcourse you have been here before...

Perplexed, I become still,
take a break and stand
without moving, contemplating
its all in all bloody confusing

I stand there as people pass by,
calling me over to move by,

Poetry - English: Passion

2007-09-01T08:00:00.000-07:00

(Its one of those one feels ashamed and embarrassed about revisiting. I guess I wrote it trying to copy someone else's work or sensibility. So much mush. Well, I will never admit it even if it happens)

OK, its true I loved u once,
its true that i promised u,
i will luv u forever..
i ringed u every morning
i called u to say goodnight
i kissed u 2 say bye
and then turned to say
hangon for some more time....
i lost all friends to have one,u
i rebuffed all relations to have one,u
i ditched all passions to have one,u
i got over all addictions 2 get one,u
i threw all restrictions to have one,u
life,
which resembled bundle of criss-crossed line,
became a circle coinciding its cetntre,u
and now I yes I say so bluntly,
get the hell out of here,
no polite words,no emotional plead
just straight words, go and bleed..
for,when u will bleed,
b sure it will drain,
blood, out of me,
like a hole drilled,
at the bottom of sea ..
and I will suffer,
till the end of my life.
and it will still not b over,
my penance,
for having made u weep,
yes,love,i made u weep..
and i will match tear of urs
with a tear, of blood ..
when i go white,
and its end of light,
come slowly to me
and touch,
softly, and smile,
lovingly,
and i will b there
smiling, my face,
all red, not of blood,
but ur love,
and i promise,
i will never let that
bleed,out of me ..
coz i will never let u bleed..
coz i will never let u weep
coz i will luv u,
forever !!!!

Poem - Hindi - U Stopped to Move..

2007-09-01T07:59:00.000-07:00

Path par chalata, chalata jata,
Chalate-chalate thak sa jata,
Thak kar phir kuchh baith gaya yun,
Samay ko rakh kar bhool gaya jyon..

Chala sagar sab manthar gati se,
main na nikala apni rati se,
poochha kiye sab log hua kya,
chalata pahiya rok diya kyon

main bola ki thaka nahin hoon
kya kahate ho? ruka nahin hoon..
raah main kuchh chhor chala tha
uski baat joh raha hoon…

tan bhaga tha, man peechhe-peechhe
chhot gaya wo door kahin par
uske bina sab sapane jhoote
mati ke jas bartan toote

aayega wo mujhse milane,
mere udhare din-raat ko silane
tanka laga kar gaanth badhoonga
phir hardam bas saath chaloonga

thora dheema, thora ruk-ruk
bojh se jaoon shayad thora jhuk bhi
par usmain bhi anand milega
jitna bhi ho poorna lagega..

Human Touch:The Sweet, The Successful and The Rest

2007-09-01T07:58:00.000-07:00

(Unedited version) The Sweet, the Successful and the rest

The world seems to be divided among two set of people. The Sweet and The Successful. Then there is the third kind, people who lie somewhere between the corridors of sweet and successful, better known as The Frustrated. You can distinguish devotees of the two corridors by the way they refer to the people of the third world (The Frustrated). “Ah, but what is wrong with you. Everything is just fine. I think you are worrying too much, just take it easy and rest all will happen” or “I told him early on that if he does not take the right decisions, this is where he will end up, I pretty much knew its gonna happen”.

Obviously, we are not here to talk about the third kind, who needs them. Even they don’t want themselves. Ah, the sweet ones. Everyone wants to have them around, after all they are the harmless ones who will be the last of the human race to judge you (Though their simple often naïve belief in goodness may make you feel guilty as somewhere deep down you know that it is not without reason that others are judging you the way they are doing). So, in a nut-shell, the world needs them. They make world appear a better and more easy place to be. Another advantage of them is that they want to keep good people around them and say all the nice things and mostly indulge in all the good things that text-books have been trying to cajole us into ever since we learned that very first tool of knowledge transfer – language.
Unfortunately, like all good things, even they are in shortage. Reasons are not confirmed but experts say it is because everyone wants to have them around but no one wants to become one. Remember Christ? Everyone loved him, everyone has him in the corner of their house. But how many will like to actually become one? Yeah, I know your answer to why everyone can’t be him. We are just human (And be assured even I think this is strong enough reason to go on the way we do).

Well, let us have a look into the other part of the world as well, The Successful. To their credit, had it not been for them, we would still have been living in the stone-age. All the progress, the plane, the train, the electricity, the gizmos, the internet, the home-deliveries (The most important one) is because of them. What do they thrive on? Verdict is not out yet but common belief is their most-preferred dish is “Ego”. Their’s to pander and other’s to conquer. They make sure that wherever they go, they fan other’s ego enough to turn it into a delicious dish someday to gorge upon. It’s an eco-system based on cooperative system. I sow, I grow and one of my community eats.

So, what are we saying? That we need more of the first kind but increasingly we are getting the second ones? Amm, may be in a way but not really. Lets study the normal life-cycle of the first kind. What happens to people who grow up being sweet. Where do they end-up. Well, a complete research on it will not only be time consuming but I have no intention to do so. So let us go to next best alternative and the most common technique employed when you don’t want to work hard enough and still want same results, go for secondary research. Pick other’s work, play with it, make a few changes here and there and you got your very own “inspired version”. No one can deny that its original in some sense after all one has to begin from somewhere so why not from the point others left. Anyway, lets get into movies. Ever wondered why all romantic movies are about sweet people. Why do they have these silly incidents which normally one doesn’t even bother about. Why do they try and give you a feel that your ordinary life could be extra-ordinary if you just choose to consider them as one. Anyway, point is most sweet people start their life that way, doing ordinary things and doing it well.
What happens next? Enter the little more evolved version of romantic comedies, the romantic tragedies. It is a movie about two sweet people who happened to meet and discover that their naïve beliefs have wide-spread support. That when they smile and hug, everyone around stops to clap and a few even shed a couple of tears for them. Anyway, these are tragedies so eventually life catches up with them and teaches who is boss. The unfortunate incidents happen (If its bollywood then mostly they discover that their parents are arch-enemies or that guy’s dad is car-driver of girl’s dad. If it is Hollywood then it is mostly to do with the guy who incidentally sleeps with the friend of the girl after a drunken stupor and yes, leave his pants to be discovered by the girl). Ending of the movie is also dependant on where it is coming from. Bollywood has mostly concluded that such people are doomed and must die though after around half an hour of fight sequences and around 50-100 car blow ups. Hollywood has a different take. These people smarten up and make difficult choices in life and move on. Basically essence is the same. Either kill the innocence (Hollywood) or the innocent (Bollywood).

So, what the hell. Is there no solution? The sweet ones can’t survive and the successful ones alone are not enough. So who will rule the world? The Frustrated? The ones who don’t know what they want? Who are at neither of the ends? Who are trying to strike a balance all the time and the balance is so slippery that they spend most of their energy in keeping it intact? Will they…can they?

Yes, very much yes. A strong yes. If you are frustrated then you are not alone. If you are frustrated then it means you haven’t given up hope. That you are still striving and be assured you will survive.

Poem - English - Where do the Fish Go....

2006-09-24T11:18:00.000-07:00

The water was still, with no waves around
Where have all the fish gone, it wondered
Have they left for the high sea
Or they all died a slow death for good
For they just disturbed the tranquility
It feels so serene, with no fish around
No fish, no waves, no nothingness
Each moment is an eternity
With each like a new one

And then came an eagle,
Hovering over the surface
Fluttering its wings, giving out a shrill cry
The stillness froze, in time and in nothingness
It became even more still, even more quiet
With its surface being out in open
As if covering with fear of being touched upon
Of losing its virginity all over again
It shivered it simmered and it looked up in trepidation
As the eagle looked down rolled its eyes
Then it looked up and away in horizon
Took a dip, touched the surface
Just deep enough to wet its feet
Shook its head, fluttered the wings
And took a flight far away
Leaving behind a small eddy

The eddy wondered, where did it come from
Whose child is it, who is to feed it
Where does it go, what does it grow into
It looked inward and found nothing
It looked up and there was nothingness
It shook itself up and rolled around
It pounced to left and then bounced to right
It stretched to its periphery then shrunk to the centre
It went up towards the sky and then down to the bottom
And soon it found many a small more
Of its own creation of its own beings
Eddies flowing around rolling and shaking
Expanding and shrinking, hitting and bouncing
And then there were they the hidden fish
Out of slumber in the morning twilight
One for each eddy one with each eddy
And they all came together in a large eddy
And it rose above as it rose together
And the eagle gave a shrill cry
this time in trepidation
fluttering its wings and covering its feet
As water came above to wet its feet again