Saturday, November 01, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Staying in the 'singlet'- a single room( considered very special in hostel) as you are living independently, without a room mate is something I recently experienced. Well, with or without a 'roomie', I've got used to being surrounded by friends most of the time. With the chit-chat extending to eternity, time just flies and what's more..we don't feel sleep deprived!! Even the beginning of a 'healthy routine' with a morning run did not stop us from catching up on a 30 minute snooze before bath-breakfast and big tiring day!
What happens to me and most of us, the moment we come back home? Its as if I've not slept for ages and I hit the bed once and get up after a century!! Puffed up -reddened eyes, dreams and sequel to those dreams running on my mind as I'm in dreamland and at the end of the day I realise I'm not doin much other than sleeping, eating and shopping; oh yeah endlessly surfing the net too!! So, the question is what happens to our body clock when we get to 'home sweet home'? All's well, but I get petrified thinking that excess sleep makes you grow plump, because your body fat keeps accumulating in the real world while you're holidaying at dreamland!! Babies grow in their sleep, I've heard and so do we!!!
I've promised myself to go for an evening run with my dad today. I think I'll accomplish it i.e. if I wake up by 5pm instead of 7pm after lunch!!
"God! wish me luck! I wanna finish off with my compensatory sleep"
Monday, September 08, 2008
The river which would have been a business blossom for the fishermen,
The plunges into the river bed, the little naked boys enjoyed probably,
The gushing of the water as the oars scrape through, rowing the boats lightly.
But often the water wished differently,
It did not remain a safe haven and it ruined the fishermen..
The little boys pined to rejoice in the water with giant leaps,
But their mothers clutched them close and all they did was weep..
The river of sorrow, the story of pain,
millions marooned, many maimed..
Just an embankment could have stopped from hell breaking loose,
You will shudder and you will wail, if you're in the victim's shoes..
Destruction done is done,tears rolling over cheeks , dropped in the flood.
Its time to lend a helping hand, its time to stop talking and start doing...
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
old wounds once again are sore.
Tears are too less for the sea of grief within,
just wish my feeble heart reaches ashore..
What wrong did I do,
that I pay such a heavy price?
A heavy heart, a heavy soul,
times aren't all sugar and spice..
Hoping that prayers work,
hope that trust does not shirk love..
hope friendship stays alive,
hope this storm,this hurricane,this fatal blow
Friday, August 15, 2008
As I sit to think..I imagine how it would be to be a 21 year old in the historic year of 1947. On the verge of being independent, how would it be? As a woman of that era I guess I would have already been engaged to be married to a 'government servant' or a 'barrister'(8-10 years my senior)..or I can't think of the other categories of 'eligible bachelors' of the 1940s. Maybe I would have decided not to walk the aisle that early and decided to pursue studies,teach in a school or do some social work. For pastimes me and my girl friends would go to a nearby fair near the house or just 'hang out' on the terrace of a 3 storeyed ancestral house! And there would be this favorite time of the day when there would be kites in the sky,dotting the firmament with innumerable colours late in the evenings.My favorite beverage would have been elaichi chai (cardamom tea) and I would sip it reading the Statesman, in my starched cotton saree, while the baritone of Pankaj Mallik on the gramophone would fill up my soul.'Piya milan ko jana'..the song that magnificently brings about the magic of love, of hidden subtle love. Where the lovers are away from each other and a meeting of the two is meticulously, stealthily planned by them..But the romantic melody would fade away in a few moments with the groups of khadi clad men and women protesting against the British. And I would lunge over the terrace to see, admire and soon join the protest. How great that feeling must be, the moments with the people of India, who were struggling for the future generations; what a rush one could feel by just shouting out the slogans of "Vande Mataram"..
And now, year 2008..as a 21 year old, I'm waiting for my graduation degree and further a degree in law by 2010, no husband fixed up formally, and favorite hang out place is 'Cafe Coffee Day'. I would prefer mocha chino and Cafe Late` instead of elaichi chai, but ya I don't have an aversion to the latter.The girl friends outing is more of a shopping spree to catch up with our favorite brands offering sale. And the music is Mp3, I'm thumping my feet to the music of 'Rock On'..The late evenings don't have kites in the sky dotting it colourfully because, maybe the kids are on their video games, social networking sites or at tuition classes. I'm not on the terrace of an ancestral house, but in my little balcony of my hostel room. I read the Hindustan Times and sometimes when I'm running short of time, I check out the headlines in an e-newspaper! Well, there are protests even now, but it does not give me that feeling of greatness, it does not give a rush. It also does not bring about the feeling of unity..because it is for land that belongs to the nation. But, its not land being demanded by any alien, it is our own motherland getting fragmented by her own sons.. Whether Amarnath or Hajj why can't people accept each other's choices, each other's faiths.. The ramification of the clashes is just bloodshed. And the worst form of it is..that there is bloodshed without reaching martyrdom..The free citizens are not realising what they are doing to freedom. The politicians are far from resolving their own ideological differences..
What will become of our nation, with greater divisions being demanded by the naxalites and separatists? Is this what the youth and the wise men of the year 1947 thought India would face? I wish I could go back in time and change a few things,a few dates, a few decisions, and ultimately fate..
Happy Independence Day!!
Thursday, August 07, 2008
Gazes of a lonely soul, into the pages of life,
straying into an unknown world, stranded roads and surreal nights..
The walks for eternity,the satiety for food,
Just me, next to you, and all is good..
The season cold and bleak, turning cosy as we speak,
those moments of love, today I seek..
To have you beside me, to watch my steps,
to hold me close, when I needed you best...
The rickety table, where we dined,
the ambience, the aura coz you were near, felt so fine...
But I'm on the page of this moment,
I see you're not near,
you're not beside me,you're not dining at the rickety table with me,
you're not there to catch my tear..
Its a change, so unfavourable..I'm facing alone this unguarded fear..
All I need now until you're there,
is wait, hope, patience, as I await sheer love of my share...
Saturday, August 02, 2008
When you would be in midst of happy times,
and you wish to rejoice,
I shall celebrate..
I shall be there for you my friend
When you're worked up and there's trouble all around
and when you wish to cry,
I'll lend you a shoulder,
I shall be there for you ,my friend.
When you're in the mood..
you wanna shop,walk or gorge on food
I'll be your accomplice,
I shall be there for you my friend.
When everyone seems so alien,
relationships seem in a haze,
your mind is a maze,
I shall be there for you, my friend.
Promises are to keep,
Ive tried my best to keep these,
Unknowingly I must have been hurtful,
Unruly our lives must have become,
But I shall still take you through the maddening phase..
I stick to my words..
I'll always be there for you, my friend...
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Another day at work,
"Go on girl...", a voice inside me motivates,
..Step out of that door".
Crossroads, turning points,
bus stops and more,
Its as if busy life is claiming
from silence; its foreclosure.
An occasional blast of hot air,
not to forget -its black smoke,
Nevertheless a baby's smile,
immunes me of what happened seconds ago.
I stare out of the window, no open space,
just vehicles small and large.
the blowing horns, the screeching brakes,
in the entire crowd I'm forlorn..
What I notice, is worth so,
the millions of faces around,
From the smiling baby in her mother's lap,
to the skinny rickshaw puller,-pulled down.
I saw intently some faces full of angst,
some were curious about the day,
Many were haggling for a rupee,
few were cursing the jam on the way.
In the mumble-murmurs ,shriek-screech jumble,
about more than an hour passed,
nearer my destination was I,
and so were my thoughts..
I was not alone, not travelling alone,
not a stranger to those around,
We're all bound by life and labour,
I realised--I'm just another face in the crowd..
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, March 10, 2008
Friday, February 22, 2008
On one of such days, we noticed a little stray pup and I could guess it was around a month or two old. I muttered some affectionate lines in appreciation of its sheer innocence. It hopped around on the road aimlessly,I smiled and turned around. A moment later we were startled by the screeching of brakes!!! And I heard a Sikh truck driver giggling-"Abey main bacchey ki jaan loonga kya?Parey hatt" (Will I kill you,oh poor kid? Move aside!!") The pup was oblivious of the huge vehicle looming over its little body. The driver had a hearty laugh and I could see his hands move on the steering wheel, steering the vehicle on the side to avoid the tiny creature leisurely squatting on the road. I spoke to myself, thanked the stranger for appreciating life, for being careful and alert. My friends joined me in our discussion about the humane touch,that touched all of us..our hearts,and our walk towards our destination continued.
The next day, again around the same time, 5'o'clock in the evening, we tread the same road,walked past the same tribal women, walked on the dusty side of the same road and found a carcass lying.It did not take us more than a second to recognise yesterday's playful pup.My heart ached for it.
What I realised that nobody can stop death, if its destined to be, so be it.