Why, Where & How of poems

Why, Where & How...

I would like to say what I feel right now, very pompous… writing about myself, my own poems, my experiences seem like walking on a tightrope on top of narcissistic valley. Maybe I can defy.

I had to struggle to overcome the inhibitions of exhibiting naked details of my experiences. Somewhere I gathered that I don’t have to evaluate or judge self or poems positively or negatively and that helped me to expose.

I look my poems as milestones or photographs of some mental state I have gone through, and the challenge lies in expressing predominant emotions of such a state/s in a language. For me it usually comes out in a flow and I tend to keep them that way.

Thus it’s always been very difficult for me to evaluate my own poems in any sense, because I am not trying to be a professional and try to ignore analyzing them from literary perspective.

So I always like to know how others find them to be, and more as an interviewer who is dispassionate about criticism or praise and am more interested in analytical and interpretive views, and I become like a child who is sharing his new toys with others. I try to maintain an unapologetically casual attitude which keeps me moored as well as lets me fly.

While penning down a poem, the need and process of looking at self & emotions from a 3rd person’s view is something I seem to enjoy indulging in, but have not been able to find out the need to write poems.

Never been good at understanding others poems (even my own after I have finished them), as its always been an intuitive activity for me rather than conscious process. I have tried to emulate some of my friends who genuinely seem to get that ‘kick’ from reading poems, but…

I have heard that exposing the processes behind by a poem/poet is something not to be done (some literary norm?) but I like to fight restrictive thinking, conventions, things repeated blindly by even the ripened heads. But let me take that on... let me defy (again).

As it happens intuitively for me, I have written all this as another attempt to understand. If your impression of a theme/interpretation differs from my point of view then look at it as a fresh creation, as a perspective shift and be cool. I always enjoyed discussing these differences of views.

If you don’t want to experiment in such a way, then don’t read the comments that follow the previous 59 poems i have posted.

59) Whisper

59) Whisper
There is this gal I like,
But not been able to talk
From afar her face
Shows a dawn of a smile,
It’s been the same story all my life.

Dawn can be dusk,
A shade away from black
Eyes also can be a trap
Even innocence filled ones.

She knows...
And her tilting of head teases,
Our eyes meet...
And like clouds,
Breaking patterns, tear apart...

An identified, loved design,
Breaks apart, torn by a concealed hand,
Sometimes merges with others,
Confounding me like self.

When her eyes slant towards me,
Wordless poems flow
From mountain tops,
And know where to go..
But don't know the way......

Streams afloat above,
Seek to merge with river
Etch path.. towards
Everlasting stay..

Don't know how to reach out,
Connect...

58) Will she?

58) Will she?

Unable to cry out,
Exact my feelings and shout,
Silently suffering,
Yet strangely enjoying;

Causes it a lovely lass, unaware
That I am willing to surrender…
Myself, for her presence;
Escape, sense of solitude.

Don’t want to make mistake,
With whole happiness at stake,
To speak the language of heart
Unsure, will she accept?

In everyone of my dream,
She smiles and her eyes gleam,
Every time I wakeup, scared,
In reality, will she understand?

57) Wave

57) Wave
An endless embrace, my flower;
You said it with a smile, a wave,
And I said, goodbye to the
Distance within me,
Love’s language is strange
To everyone its own,
But everywhere incomplete;

Evening breeze in vain
Tries to feel its tenderness,
Sugar drowns in itself in its sweetness,
Even nature succeeds to show
Only miserably, its symbols,
My heart, what can I say.

Winter, summer, rain becomes spring,
Spread mellowed light;
Without any answers stops the search,
And impossible is within reach,
Infinity just a step away,
Lingers on love cloud, Lingers on…

56) War

56) War
His half naked body shivering,
From chin, tear drops falling,
His broken left arm on a sling,
He stood there sobbing,
In front of a thousand snow white crosses,
Planted on top of
Bright green grass,
And buried underneath,
Countless bodies.

A pretty picture,
It makes from far away,
Where you can’t hear him cry.

His cowardice thoughts,
Slowly turn to oath,
To revenge the sleeping martyrs,
And, lends him a purpose to live again.

‘O’ Great War,
I thank thee,
Thou have saved a life.

55) Village temple

55) Village temple
Rain when it came,
Like the priest at the
Village temple,
Bathed the stone deity and
Stone paved pathways,
Constantly with drops of water
With the help of roof tiles,
Who shrank into themselves,
Left gaps in their relations.

The stone walls,
Smeared with grease and black dust
Of burning lamps on ghee*,
Poured by devotees to cleanse
Their sins; Rise from the
Nearby pond, in semi wet clothes
Lips busily chanting,
Symbolizing piousness externally,
Stare at the deity
With folded hands,
Sometimes along with children,
Who look up frequently,
To time exactly, the period of devotion.

54) Untitled

54) Untitled
Here we are, sitting
With our back to the world
Placid, songs of outcasts
Decaying, hang around.

The orange sun dies,
Along with it,
Extinguished the fire
Of love, in my heart;

Helplessly watch, alienated
Bewildered, why tears fall
When ends the burning, painting
My body like clouds, colorful.

Shared grief, swell up
We await, dark brooding
Night, to cover sorrows
Before arises hopes and morning.

53) Traveler’s tenor

53) Traveler’s tenor
Through the dusty window I noticed,
A magnificent Banyan in
Brown, baked fields,
A green monolith in the midst
Of tiny wandering sheep.

A once forgotten melody
Blending with incessant noise,
Making a strange harmony,
Broken by traveling singers
Who sing for money.

Traveling time and again,
To return from the usual routine,
I looked up to reach,
An unfathomable horizon,
Dotted with trees trying to measure.

Strange signals where I stop,
Ponder on a forlorn thought,
Lights dim and darkness descends,
Occasional whistles pierce through,
Jilting the reflections of night.

52) Trap

52) Trap
Oh! Unapproachable beauty,
Look at you, I only from far away,
I don’t want to come near,
Such ecstasy, I won’t be able to bear.

You move around your friends,
Like a glow in darkness,
Oh! The way you smile,
I can watch it all my life.

But when you walk past me,
Without even looking once,
Can’t hold on any longer,
Do I need to tell any further.

Don’t make me fall on my knees,
Girl, just look at my eyes,
Reflects it a longing unmeasurable..
“No”?? …

Well, but my age being impressionable,
Forgive my (maybe an) infatuation,
Oh, don’t worry, it’s already broken,
And no hard feelings and goodbye;
Hope it works on the next one I try.

51) Teen Love song

51) Teen Love song
Maybe the stars didn’t shine
In my eyes,
May be the bells didn’t ring
In your ears,
When I said it, but it’s true…
So stop fooling around,
Listen to your heart,
Don’t play hard to get,
I’ll not come again to plead,
And say those three words that make
Life a never ending song…

We could be now having fun,
You know it really well,
Together while the moon shine,
All you have to do is me; call,
So baby, don’t think,
Just come along,
Why bother about those three words
When Life’s already a never ending song…

50) Swing

50) Swing
A twinkle in her eyes,
A sweet song in her lips,
Comes she near,
Her footsteps I can hear.

In a white night gown,
Her pale hands reach for me,
Hit by her hips,
My cradle swings,
Her longs chains,
Tickle my chest:
Then, I wake up,
Trying to touch her…
Why do it happen only in dreams,
Why don’t I hear a lullaby,
Which rhyme.

49) Sun or Moon ?

49) Sun or Moon ?
I see her, the full moon,
After long gaps of days, barren;
Between black clouds,
Usually in furtive glances.

Remain she distant, even
In my imagination,
With desperate telepathy,
Insolent stare
And transfixed thoughts,
I follow her.

Rare connections like waves hit,
Take me to a curious height,
And like a plant, I bloom,
Crane towards her; the sun,
a little;
Always a little,
Afraid of getting burnt; End.

Last night in my dream she appeared,
Standing alone in a boat,
In the middle of my river.

Her hair flew with the sail,
Silvery water and moonbeams
Threw spotlights around her,
Pairs of eyes peered,
The wave crests eerily gleamed.

She morphed to silhouette gray,
My incomplete half, the womanhood;
Then anchors broke, boats loosened,
And drove toward her.

She became a vision within a vision,
A philosopher’s gate;
Is she the medium?
Asked the thinker’s statue
And crumpled, from its stone innards,
Veins reached to caress,
In love of that beautiful medium,
But the rational waters drowned it,
Along with discoloring blood;
Ah, flow of passion never ends.

48) Society

48) Society
Hiding my real self,
I conformed to the norms,
But got tired of pretension,
And afraid of an explosion.
Apes everyone their ancestors,
I never understood, why?
And act we indifferent –
To our inner-self all the time?

Why do we wear various masks
And complicate every matter?
Why cling on to a society
Which constricts individuality
And kills creativity?
To find out the answers,
Like the others ahead of me,
Shut I myself in society;
Saw that everybody around me,
Had grown accordingly -
To the proportions of their prisons.

With glee, told they me,
Till the end of sane life,
Will remain you closed in,
Only companionship can console,
So to trap the innocents in,
Suffer with a smile, and
You’ll be a success story.
Still fought I to avoid,
Suffering the pangs of guilt,
And the confinement of those
Who follow us in blind faith.

So tried I to deviate,
And break the archaic walls,
With my fiery ideas,
But failures and complete isolation
Had me finally broken.

Painted I have now in my face,
The smug look of satisfaction;
But carry around I still, hope
And seeds of discontention.

47) slave

South India wave
Hindi movies can be one of the indicators of popular culture, though pan Indian trends are never easy to predict (is there a pan india anyway? How many ppl knew about 92 day blockade in Manipur, how many Indian states an Indian has even travelled?).

But lets get back to south india and hindi movies. Recently 2 movies which heated up the multiplexes are ra.one and mujhse fraaandship karoge, and in ra.one SRK is a southie, and the movie MFK hit song dheaon dheaon has a southie music director and a total southie tilt... what say Macha?

I can remember, some decades ago, in hindi movies, south Indianisms were absolute no no. But i guess now overall attitude of the youngsters is, anything goes, and reduced regionalism. Maybe india itself is getting Indianized (as in globalized), and whatever catches your fancy is ok to take into your coolness quotient seem to be the new mantra.

Its the beginning of such a trend is my take, and many people wont even be aware of something like this happening today. Only time will tell, which way the wind is blowing...

Apart from psycho-babble, MFK rocks yaar... lots of old morals are blown in the air, without even a shrug... suddenly feelings are talking...
End of story one.

..and open up one secret of yours at a time.. its liberating.. let the world know its ok to let go... they can do it too ;)

back to old stuff:
47) Slave
Lead a lonely life,
Inside a cocoon, but in peace.
Called everyone, crazy,
Cared naught for rules or rulers,
Lived my dream;
Only to wake, Painfully realize,
Fighting inside, Many Me’s,
More despicable, more bloody,
And more tightly,
Binding me in slavery.
Mass of bone and muscles,
A storing machine,
Labyrinth of emotions,
Which one is real me?
I’ll have to find out first, To be free.

46) Silence

Like a window's tears,
It transformed,
When her child disappeared
And even the silence of
Aloneness started asking,
Like a suicidal shadow,
“Who are you crying for”?
Its not who, but what …
Said the English teacher,
She switched off the lights,
Trying to extinguish.

Sun rays straightened up,
Reflected on shattered
Glass pieces,
Symbols of yesterday’s dance,
And like an abstract art piece
They formed, to scream,
“Are you crying for lost motherhood”?
She just closed the curtains,
And darkened the faces
Of those glass pieces,
Till they became stained in red.

45 Sermon

decided to mix up a bit. first of all, had a very quiet Diwali in India ;) and visited a rural area, which is the border of 2 states, Maharashtra and Andhra Pradesh. funny thing is, both these areas are trying to separate and form another state. Telangana part, which may happen soon, and Vidarbha part which is not so well known, and may take time. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vidarbha)

was watching TV about Diwali celebrations from this vidarbha part, on various Marathi language TV channels, and there was almost no news or even mention of anything happening from Vidarbha side at all.

really can't imagine, how vidarbha ppl tolerate this... most dont even seem to be aware of such a partisan treatment.

anyway, back to old style.. here goes..
45) Sermon
Search not for peace of mind,
Sit back and see the world around;
Forget yourself for a while,
Share somebody’s sorrow for a change.

Give sympathy to a wounded heart,
Let a sinner, a new life, start;
Show mercy to a fallen down man,
Aid any unfortunate friend in pain.

Return some kindness to mother nature,
She will rear tomorrow’s children.
Hesitate not, to solemnly promise her,
Rage we won’t ever on her soil, another war.

Just sacrifice some of your pleasures,
To keep earth livable for coming generations,
Pray not for forgiveness to some God,
Both hell and heaven are here in this world.

To repent all your wrong doings,
And to make your life a huge success,
Send the poet, what you can liberally,
And all your sins will be, forgiven finally.

Street play: Misconceptions about Mental Illnesses

Street play: Misconceptions about Mental Illnesses

(About 6-7 actors are the minimum need, and up to 10 actors can take part as it is flexible.)

Props: about 10 placards. 9 of them needed to be tied at two ends with a thread, or if more elaborate work can be done, then they can be stuck to caps or some head gear. In big lettering they should be written:
1) Pollution,
2) Infection
3) Food poisoning
4) Pickpocket
5) Angry boss
6) Death
7) Typhoid or cancer
8) Mad
9) Recovered mad
10) This will continue

SCENE - 1:
A director is doing his job, setting up a scene of a mental hospital. He is frantically running around, yelling at his actors and actresses to yell out more loudly, attack each other, laugh loudly and cry together, move body more etc. There are a few actors who are trying to look and behave like inmates of a mental hospital from a typical Hindi film. (The attempt is to make the mentally ill people look like they are a mix between insane and intellectually retarded people, who do stupid things, which is supposed to make audience laugh).

The clapboard is closed to indicate the scene has started, and then there is mayhem and chaos. Somebody is crying out loudly and laughing, a doctor is running around giving direct shock from broken wire and hitting people with a big hammer, somebody runs around to attack the audience. Suddenly a guy from outside walks in and the director yells, “cut, cut”.

The guy: (Who just walked in) What’s all this?
Director: We are shooting a mental hospital scene.
Guy: But hey, have you ever been to a mental hospital, seen the inside of a mental hospital?
Director: No, never, I didn’t have to… haha… haha

Guy: Hey, this is not a laughing matter, how can you show all these people about a mental hospital if you have not even bothered to find how it is?, and I don’t understand, even educated people like you (fingering audience) laugh when somebody is insulting your intelligence like this?? (the audience who were having fun till now, quiet down as they realize they had not thought of it earlier).

Director: hey, you got a point there, how does a mental hospital look?
Guy: let’s go to one, and let me show you all.

SCENE - 2:
Scene of a mental hospital as it usually looks in most parts of the world. It is more like any ordinary hospital for physiological diseases. There are a few people going on about their business, some are lost in their own world. Some are doing meaningful work. The doctor is treating people in a humane way. One of the guys is seen as being discharged as he has recovered and moving out. Other inmates wish him luck just in the normal way. The director is walking around observing all this and he claps his hands with other inmates when they clap to give the recovered patient a warm goodbye. Claps and claps.

SCENE - 3:
At the two ends of stage two people are standing. A voice over comes and introduces them. Then guy-1 starts walking forward and is seen walking ahead all the time. Suddenly he closes his nose as if he has neared a smelly place. A person wearing the board pollution runs out to the stage and runs around guy-1 and disappears. Guy-1 gets a bit tired and droops, but within a few seconds straightens up and walks back normally.

Then guy-2 walks ahead, towards him a guy with board of pick-pocket runs and circles and disappears. The guy-2 after few seconds searches and finds his loss and droops for some seconds, then shrugs off and walks back normally. Similarly for guy-1 food poisoning comes and for guy-2 it is firing from his boss, and in the third round, infection through mosquito for guy-1 and death of a close person for guy-2. All three times they recover after momentary affect.

Then in the fourth round for guy-1 all three things come together and dance around him and he falls down, and when the dancers disappear he is wearing a board - typhoid. And for guy-2 all three things dance and he also falls down and is seen wearing a board MAD.

Voice over: when our body is imbalanced it shows symptoms - sometimes they are psychological symptoms and sometimes they are physiological and sometime a mixed effect. The person is not responsible for it totally in either case.

SCENE - 4:
again guy-1 and guy-2 are standing at 2 ends, guy-1 is cared by his family, but guy-2 with MAD as the board on him is kicked out and people are pushing him, laughing at him, kids throw stones at him etc. guy-1 recovers quickly, puts on the board on recovered from typhoid and is welcomed by his colleagues and relatives. Guy-2 is put in mental hospital and recovers slowly alone and is put on the board of recovered MAD.

When guy-2 returns home, a small kid runs to welcome him, but other older members restrain her and tells him to get lost, and that once MAD means always MAD. Onlookers also nod their heads to agree and laugh at the recovered mad guy-2 and push him away, kids throw stones at him, and everyone dance madly around him. When they go back, the guy-2 is put the board of MAD and he is lying down on the floor in pain.

Voice over: “discrimination done between a physiological and a mental disease is due to ignorance, nobody can change the chemical changes that happens in their brain just like nobody can kill cancer cells on their own. Both are diseases and these people need help and co-operation from outside world”.

SCENE - 5:
One guy comes in front and tells the audience that to help people in distress and improve our society we need unity, if we stand together we can overcome problems. Another actor then walks in and says we need mass education, and that knowledge is the key for a better future. The first guy is looking in astonishment when a third actor comes and says we need sympathy for others and peace in our heart and the world will become a paradise.

The two others push the third away and a fourth comes and says we need to have faith and belief, and only God can help us sinners, and fifth and sixth one come together and start saying technological advances are what we need to concentrate and sixth one yells justice and equality should be enforced and their is a pushing match and these people start yelling and hitting each other and mayhem and chaos reigns. One guy with a big placard written, “THIS WILL CONTINUE”, walks around the fighting people as the curtain falls. (To signify, good intentions also require team work and systematic efforts to reach fruitful stage, this is the punch line or twist at the end).

[This street-play won 2nd prize in Bombay Univ. annual fest. in ’97. Written and directed by Venky Iyer, Actors: Shashank, Deepa, Vidya, Indrayani, Atish, Venky (MA Psycho) & Abhijit and Samir]

mental health care ?

...mental health remains a neglected area world over, and more so in undeveloped countries... but for me a favorite area. why so? that i am still trying to figure out.

anyway, there are some encouraging happenings at WHO, such as 'no health without mental health', and increased pressure to make mental health aspects part of of global health etc are occurring.

a book "donde no hey doctor", (where there is no doctor), had become a champion of poor/undeveloped parts of the world - for their health/doctor needs - similarly another book, 'where there is no psychiatrist" has come out, which is a promising sign.

though when i see people putting in lots of efforts to achieve / succeed BUT neglect mental health aspects such as not managing their stress and thus dig their own grave, i can't help but feel confused. many such people achieved a lot, but somehow are unable to prioritize their mental health needs appropriately.

a very good example i can think of right now is, students who are slogging to get good marks / grades in their exams. a common complaint they have or their close one's have is - he/she is good student but gets too stressed. but when stress management inputs are given, these students often tend to neglect practicing it... which is very similar to what adults do too - they complain of stress, even have fatal health problems like heart diseases or BP etc... but still start neglecting their mental health within no time of their treatment.

addictions are another aspect of health - and deaddiction (addiction treatment) falls under mental health area. tobacco addiction even though being shown to be a major killer (the biggest stoppable cause of death among humans now) is very neglected thing - and in a very 'cutting-the-branch-you-are-sitting' manner, governments tend to focus on economic benefits (short term) from tobacco industry instead.

maybe 'military intelligence' is not oxymoron, its mental-health care ;)

p.s. managing emotions is taken for granted... because its invisible. managing concrete resources, materials which are visible gets preference and priority... so everyone runs after those management courses... the funny thing is, even when it affects our self, it remains a joke.

a friend told me, 1 million smokers quit every year... (by dying)... there are 1 million (official figure) people committing suicide as well... thus they manage their mental health problem?

23) Inner beauty

23) Inner beauty

 You are a shell, 

yet unopened

 Hiding inside a pearl,

 yet coarsely covered.

 You are a butterfly, 

yet to wake 

Sleeping in a cocoon, 

yet to break. 

Youu are a cloud,

 yet to rain 

Enough to green a desert, 

yet in pain. 

You are a rock, 

yet not dry

 Blemished by nature, 

yet never cry.

 You are a peacock, 

yet never dance 

With thousand eyes, 

yet never given a glance.

 Your are a rainbow, 

yet to form 

Queen of the skies, 

 yet slave to storm. 

Youu are a poem,

 read to the end 

Written from the heart, 

yet never understood.

44) Rigidity

44) Rigidity
Divided strictly
From twenty four hours,
A day or night,

A category, either
Citizen or alien,

A gender, either
Male or female,

A status, either
Successful or failure,

A life, either
Death or an unknown,

A judgement, either
Right or wrong,

A state of mind, either
Crazy or sane,

A prison, invisible
Real or illusory…

43) Ride

There’s a road,
You are a woman and I a man,
Let’s ride without a map;
If love doesn’t blossom on the way
In the nearest town, let’s part.
The world’s wild and
We are still young.

Missed chances and regrets
Catch up fast,
In the highway of life,
Let’s not stop.

When you see the withered,
Old hitchhikers thumb,
Sit down on the dusty mud;
Write letters about past
And watch the new ones whiz by,
Smile contemptuously, if anyone stops,
Your best trip is yet to begin, but alone.

42) Return

42) Return
A protruding step
Made me fall,
Inside my school.

I walked away
Dusting my pants,
But leaving
Misshapen designs,
Printed on the mud.

On its long corridors,
Uniformly built,
On yawning arches,
I ran my fingers over
Felt cold stone
And scratches.

Pieces of papers, floated,
Murky desks, darkened,
A broken pencil
On the floor, rolled.

In my hand the last
Page of notebook,
Fluttered toward the
Trail of pages;
His friends.

Crumpling the impulse to turn,
Walked ahead with new hope,
To detect signs of life,
At least here
In it’s abandoned loneliness;

Outside the gate,
Doorkeeper trees,
Waved to me again.

aping

on the busy and throbbing city streets, post office hours rush (after 730 am to 1030am), the crowd around begin to include many students - school and college students. school kids in uniforms, and college kids in multi-colored style statements.

one distinct trend i could see among college kids is - there are many guys, who seem to fashion themselves like japanese pop singers..
the look can be described in my rudimentary observation goes like this...

hair streaked in light blond strands, & cut at un-even length, straightened and even made to look thin and long.. (guess its called 'mullet' hair style or so)
canvas shoes, and tight jeans, with narrow bottoms (which make those canvas shoes look too big for their feet),
tight check shirts, with some chain / lace like accessories tied into those shirt/top..
and one or more tattoo visible somehow thru all that clothing, and
add an eye brow piercing or at lip....

i mean, its not just male jap pop singer look, many chinese, korean (east asian) guys go for that look...
it kinda seems odd to see similar look aped in India... or a major indian city...

also, there seem to be some effort put into become thin to be in this style, as well as attempt to appear feminine, or use of facial creams and such stuff to have a glistening look...

of couse, disclaimer... i am not judging or being discriminatory, i mean, there's an article 377 already - approved by supreme court of india...
and as a democracy, everyone has right to dress & look the way they want...

just trying to observe and understand a new trend.. thats all..

when it comes to aping, though what seemed ludicrous was, the trend to copy african american coolness, gangsta rap walk/talk and dancing hip-hop style by east asians... the chinese people especially - that takes the cake... its like, many of these chinese seem very disciplined, robotically rigid - and then such a person tries to imitate 'i am cool like dat' spirit - that too thru loose limbed dancing style with 'motha load of attitude'...

beat that brotha?
but maybe tamilians trying to carry this same african american hepness... might actually do that...

guess i have been in my so called attempt to understand 'individual & society' through this blogs have been politically totally incorrect enough..
so let me get into safer topics now.. let me write about parenting... ;)

who are we?

we human beings, have tendency to ponder over these 2 things -
1) who are we (as species, living beings, over lords of earth the planet) &
2) who am i (what's my purpose in life, how should i live, what's i)

of course, these pondering's lead to a lot of other queries and explorations.

one way to deal with it is by looking at ourselves (humans) as one of the species, just like other animals etc.. like zoology does. (books by desmond morris, even though like half century old, still seem relevant reference material).

other explanations may have spiritual leanings, inclusion of all mighty entity/ties, cosmic energy etc.

but overall, as we tend to become city dwellers more and more, our need to keep ourselves busy (thru entertainment) seem to increase..

keeping ourselves distracted seem to be the goal of life in itself.. just look around and see the impact of visual media, moving pictures on us (TV, Movies, youtube etc), and written material as well such as books, internet...

people seem to work to earn money, so that they can afford to be entertained, visit places that they see on videos, read on books, watch sports, etc. etc.
the entertainment avenues seem to become more passive as well.. where few people play (sports) and few million watch it, discuss it, and relive it...

anyway, maybe that's a part of our genetic makeup.. we live because we have to, and to occupy our living time, we have to find things to do, and thus we make complex rules and create a big game of city life... or urban life.. or something like that.

how long will it be before, food will be made by machines, and humans will be living through virtual worlds - connected through www?
it may seem scary, but just try to figure - the amount of time you spend in a day - watching moving pictures, watching non-moving pictures and reading...

way to go.. homosapiens.. ;)

41) Relations

41) Relations
Neighborhood cat came,
Whenever got hurt, needed
Hot milk and soothing words;
In some seasons, weeks passed,
Without it’s paw’s
Scratching neurotically clean
Tiles, but when they met
Like old friends, sat close
Together, but one silent;
Maybe the cat had a sore throat.

One stormy night,
The cat came, for the first time
Thoroughly wet and with a touch
Of terror in his eyes,
She welcomed with a towel,
Noticed on his white wet fur,
A streak of red, stifling sobs;
Nursed, but it was an endless
Night for him, she wept
Afterwards, at loneliness.

40) Regression

40) Regression
The warmth of your hands,
The pitch of your voice,
I try to remember,
Mother, it hurts.

Your understanding smile,
Your comforting lap,
I miss, I cry, still
Mother, it hurts.

A woman, her care
And selfless love,
I forever search,
Mother, it hurts.

In every woman, I try
To find you, but impurity,
It scares me,
Mother, it hurts.

An unknown child wakes in me,
Don’t be away, hold me tight,
Make him sleep,
Mother, he hurts.

39) Pretensions

39) Pretensions
When a cat jumped,
Fell pieces of ivory tower,
Crashed on the footpath,
Down below.

With it fell,
Centuries old dirt,
Kept deep hidden,
Beneath the façade,
At heights which pain the neck,
To sight it.

Beggars slept on,
Rolled in old sacks,
Pedestrians looked up,
Only to make sure
If it was workers
Or just wind.

Two heavily carved iron gates,
Separated from it’s gratings,
Stood stiff, between loosened tiles.
Windows, somehow made
Dirty from inside,
Blocks sunlight,
Which exposes
The cracks in the wall
And hides the color
Faded by the rain, to the brink.

38) Planet - X

38) Planet - X
Without a sting, it enters,
Slowly and slowly it spreads,
So, late come realization,
After gone deep inside, ideologies.

Like eyes, deaf to the cries
Of dry cheeks, to shed tears,
The minds, act numbed,
To the yearning, to be freed.

Marked by long held rotten breath,
From every where in the fear encircled path,
Reflect the stoic faces of ruler,
The craving for reassurance, like mirror.

Living in perfect harmony, it’s called,
In an Utopian world.
But all of them meaningless words,
Just like my name and yours.

37) Paper plane

37) Paper plane
I want to tell you,
What I think about you,
And then face your retort.

And I can take it
Self deprecating humor
With a smile.

Except this is no joke
At least for me,
But I can pretend.

My eyes tell the truth
But it’s a strange world,
Even black & white is misunderstood.

Maybe it’s just another game
Between two people,
The winner can just walk away.

Once I lost a paper plane,
Had aimed it too high
And in a chemistry class, I learnt
Tears are salty water drops fallen from eyes,
But there are other ways to shed,
So standing still, I waved.

36) Once again?

36) Once again?
Cry again cry,
Try to catch fire.

Laugh again laugh,
To hide sorrowful tears.

Kiss again kiss,
Keep falling in love.

Paste together, paste
Broken pieces of heart.

Waste time, waste,
To become a poet.

Wash again wash,
To clear smears of sin.

Run again run,
To escape all fears.

Think again think,
Try to understand the world.

Wish again wish,
For a wonderful tomorrow.

Die just once die,
When you run out of clichés.

35) Normal

35) Normal
I took a bath
To stop being a natures freak
Called home
With a sense of guilt.

Smiled, made small talk
For a list of friends,
In my telephone book,
I am no longer a loner.

Torn away posters, swept
Corners of my room
Hung curtains of matching color and
Wait for visitors, who talk about weather.

Painted my nails and a blank expression
Carry along in a handbag concerned voice.
‘You look respectable now’, compliments
My neighborhood shopping mall.

Now laugh derisively at my third dimension,
Whom I rejected, left behind
To be happy, to be together, and
Except for a warped shadow, I am normal.

34) Night study

34) Night study
Stack of papers,
Scattered books,
Pens and empty cups of coffee,
Lie all around me.

The clock ticks faster,
The books grow fatter,
And an insect miles away,
Disturbs me greatly.

My eyes are aching,
And joints are squeaking,
Unless I rest, I know,
I’ll be taken ill, now.

But I just can’t rest,
Even for a while, stop;
Because looms large shadows,
Of teachers, parents and peers.

33) New Cult

33) New Cult
I had a friend, ‘X’
Fiery and determined,
For half of us ‘X’ was scary,
And the other half thought as crazy.

‘X’ always wanted,
Every answer, ecstasy,
The clear cut path to truth,
And the eternal companion, provider, peace.

In the last three years,
‘X’ had changed,
A cross for a skull cap,
Then saffron and threads,
And many other strange motif’s.

Really, it was to stop,
A conversion attempt,
Into X’s new cult, that I gave,
A cloth covered frame and a ritual; saying,
“Whenever you want something,
Just look at the frame
And pray for its blessings,
But promise you will have to, first
Never to open the cover and peep
At the Framed God inside”;
X got immediately converted.

I had a friend, ‘X’
Who, yesterday committed suicide,
I should never have given her,
The concept of framed mirror as God,
“Oh, Mirrorgod, please forgive”.

32) Neither Head nor Tail..

32) Neither Head nor Tail..
I see her the goddess of beauty..
But when I looked behind the smile ..
I saw a child's innocence and
A little sadness also covering those eyes..
Showing me that they have seen the world.

A posture of confidence
It looks like on the photograph..
But when I held my heart and observed,
I could see the her hands on the earth,
To balance herself a bit.

Now I am able to realize
Her heart is so pure,
And she keeps it like an open door
And I feel like telling her,
It might let in joy as well as sorrow...

Yes.. Her silky smooth strands of hair..
Fly with the wind and
Dance with her thoughts,
But does that freedom mean
They know where to go as well?

And the smoothness of her limbs,
Seemed like molded in marble,
But also makes one afraid of letting
Things slip away too much, and even wonder
That they are made to admire and not feel.

And, there are two sides to a coin they say…
But I want to be the third side of the coin,
Which feels and analyzes as well;
Once in a million tosses my side comes up,
Neither head nor tail...

more on mental health

...mental health remains a neglected area world over, and more so in undeveloped countries... but for me a favorite area. why so? that i am still trying to figure out.

anyway, there are some encouraging happenings at WHO, such as 'no health without mental health', and increased pressure to make mental health aspects part of of global health etc are occurring.

a book "donde no hey doctor", (where there is no doctor), had become a champion of poor/undeveloped parts of the world - for their health/doctor needs - similarly another book, 'where there is no psychiatrist" has come out, which another promising sign.

though when i see people putting in lots of efforts to achieve / succeed BUT neglect mental health aspects such as managing their stress and thus dig their own grave, i can't help but feel confused. many such people achieved a lot, but somehow are unable to prioritize their mental health needs appropriately.

a very good example i can think of right now is, students who are slogging to get good marks / grades in their exams. a common complaint they have or their close one's have is - he/she is good student but gets too stressed. but when stress management inputs are given, these students often tend to neglect practicing it... which is very similar to what adults do too - they complain of stress, even have fatal health problems like heart diseases or BP etc... but still start neglecting their mental health within no time of their treatment.

addictions are another aspect of health - and deaddiction (addiction treatment) falls under mental health area. tobacco addiction even though being shown to be a major killer (the biggest stoppable cause of death among humans now) is very neglected thing - and in a very 'cutting-the-branch-you-are-sitting' manner, governments tend to focus on economic benefits (short term) from tobacco industry instead.

maybe 'military intelligence' is not oxymoron, its mental-health intelligence. ;)

31) Nandini

31) Nandini 

From birth to four, 

She was just a child like all

Cared and fussed over, 

Maybe her cry was more shrill. 

After four, she was tied, 

From waist below, a skirt, 

Without knowing what it hid, 

She was made to feel, from then, guilt. 

At fourteen, with a new ritual, 

She was given half saree and blouse, 

And told to be shy and sensible, 

But still, scaring her, men began to notice.

At twenty, after usual cries, 

She left home with a strange man, 

Soon, felt a mother in her rise, 

After the usual pain, another girl was born. 

Nandini, she was named, 

After The divine cow and her grandmother, 

Bright eyes and free spirit she inherited; 

From mother, Who lost them, at the age of four.

30) Moon & the cloud

30) Moon & the cloud
You don’t say a word,
Still tease…
And roll your iris
Craze, confuse, daze
Like the full moon,
That clouds chase.

Maybe never to meet,
Away from you,
Forever a part of the night,
Becoz it’s your light
Which reflects,
Makes me distinct

Maybe I will reach,
Touch, When you
Stand still in one place
And dissipate,
In a sparkling haze
In to the void space.

29) Meeting

29) Meeting
Between huge rocks,
I met her,
Wearing a sparkling
Robe all over,

She was chattering ceaselessly,
But only when I listened carefully,
Heard I the voice of her secret admirer,
The calm, cold river.

But like every first time lover,
He is afraid, and have never
Called out her name aloud,
So they have never met,
He only flows by her foaming feet.

28) Married man’s poem

28) Married man’s poem
My heart beats like thunder,
Only for you my dear,
I wish I could come like lightning,
To see you, my darling.

Then we will go out of town,
On our second honeymoon,
I’ll be ready with the dough,
To any place you wish to go.

Won’t you stand on the steps,
With your palm over your eyes,
Waiting for me sweetie,
Wearing that white saree.

I’ll come running,
In my arms, bags bulging,
With things, just for you,
All bearing my love, oh so true.

27) Lyrics for ‘S’

27) Lyrics for ‘S’
Shaded with petals
She swings and turns around
Carelessly, as if in her mothers lap
‘A valley’.

Swaying in a way that
Sows contentment, as if after
A fest, in the middle of old friends
‘A river’.

Take a break.. to see
Such nature’s creations,
With a pat, said my friend,
And took away those two photos.

I just turned around to see
The shine of a million rainbows
Interspersed with pearly shells,
‘Her eyes’.

26) Loner’s Song

26) Loner’s Song
City lights blinking me goodbye,
A lone star shining in the sky,
Moving with the partly hidden moon,
Praying for that Nirvana, alone.

Lonely roads that stretch ahead of me,
Through the dim colors that I can see,
Away from those scarred memories,
Broken laughter and mute cries.

Wandering birds with me fly,
Stop sometimes for mates and prey,
But walk I towards you last moon,
Praying for that Nirvana, alone.

Grass roots and the yellow leaves,
Wait for the winds of love,
But long ago, waved I goodbye,
Left them to rot and die.

25) Laments - II

25) Laments - II
 In the story of my life,
I always fell in love with
Somebody else’s girl,
In all my odysseys Pretty faces
Always rocked my boat,
And every time, my heart broke,
I cried more and more,
Still more then ever, I yearn,
Somebody to call, my own, my own.

Till death do us unite:
 Waiting for the embrace of death,
Till stops beating my broken heart,
Dreaming about that heaven above earth,
Where you and me are going to meet,
Stay close to me from the start, dear,
There, there nothing will break us apart.

Unrelated:
 Are you for real or a vision,
Or have I died and gone to heaven,
Wow ! there she is,
A whole skeleton,
Yes, in a poetic dream, I had been a dog.

24) Laments - I

24) Laments - I
Dream girl:
 A philosopher woman, with a beautiful face,
Can feel pity and confuse it with love,
God must have made one,
But there are too many fools.

 Don’t know what draws me toward you,
Don’t know why you remain aloof,
But don’t change, I am used to it,
Living alone with a broken heart.

 I have nothing else to offer,
So I’ll have to throw it away,
It has become a burden,
Oh ! love so pure.

 Beautiful eyes, don’t stop me,
Mesmerizing smiles, don’t fool me,
Entrancing words, don’t make me your prey,
Because I want to finish, alone; this journey.

22) Indecision

22) Indecision
Racing thoughts bewitch me
And my lost soul bemoans,
Lack of decisiveness
And lost opportunities.

Ran I through life so far,
Like a horse –
Whose tied in front,
In a stick, temptation.

Caught up with I’ve many,
But countless are they,
Care not now, I for anything,
Cause come to realize, I have,
Contain they nothing; but emptiness.

But confounds it me, still
With one last dilemma,
Kill I should myself, or not,
Can you please decide, for me?

21) In Bollywood

21) In Bollywood
When I am with her
She’s every star
I ever dreamed of.

Things transform to
A perfect location
The week’s top
Love song plays.

She smiles when my breath
Caress her face,
And shampooed hair bounces,
Faultless skin shines.

And then she leaves, a tragic
Scene after a dream sequence
Everyone is waiting, munching
Popcorn, for the ending.

20) Ideals

20) Ideals
I wanna girl like my morning dreams,
Who laughs at life and philosophize,
Crazy and searching for true love,
Sad and trying to find out who she is,
A girl like me.

If you always carry in your eyes,
The searchers look and child’s laughter,
Don’t let me walk past you,
I don’t know you, Don’t know myself,
Come and tell me if you feel the same way,
Oh, a girl like me….

Afore we meet in lovers paradise,
May bring us together, chance wanderlust,
Am keeping my heart closed, till then, hey girl,
For a girl like you..

19) Heart’s Song

19) Heart’s Song
Oh ! he doesn’t show,
Yeah ! how much he love,
But I am his heart,
And know the truth,
Don’t be a fool, he loves you girl.

Every time you meet,
I feel the ache,
And every time you part,
I hear his tears, falling on the floor;
Don’t be fool, he loves you girl.

When ever he faces you,
Talks he with only eyes,
And a thousand love words,
Have died on his lips;
Don’t be fool, he loves you girl.

Worships he from a distance,
You like a true goddess,
Keeps he deep hidden,
Love sign and roses;
Don’t be fool, he loves you girl.

a song lyrics translation: from Tamil to English

translation of a Tamil song lyrics into English:
(disclaimer - Tamil is not exactly my mother tongue, so this is an novice attempt
only - i got this song on the net, and wanted my non-tamil speaking friends to appreciate it, that's why i dared to do this translation)

......info regarding this song (as i found on a website):
Song : Nee Ninaindhal
Genre : Carnatic/Devotional/South Indian Classical
Raga : Jonpuri/Darbari Kanada.
Tala : Adi
Lyrics : Periasamy Thooran
Performers : Vandana Iyer, Vidhya Iyer with Shankar Tucker
links:
http://slogasintamil.blogspot.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ky9SatRoyCY&feature=share


song lyrics with translation:

1st stanza:
Nee ninaindal agathadu undo
(if you wish nothings impossible)
(Nee=you, ninaindal=wish/think, agathadu=impossible/not happening, undo=is there)

neeraja dala nayani, mahalakshmi
(lotus petal eyed, mahalakshmi)
(neeraja=lotus flower, dala=petal, nayani=eyed/having eyes like, Mahalakshmi=name of a godess from hindu mythology)

2nd stanza:
maanida vazh-kayile inba-tunbam
(in human life, there's happiness and sadness)
(maanida=human, vazhkayile=life, inba-tumbam=happiness-sadness/+ve -ve

maari maari varuvadum un seyal anro
(these changes/ cycles are your doing only)
maari=change/alternate, varuvadum=happening, un=your, seyal=doing, anro=is


3rd stanza:
ella perumaigalum irundalum athu
(even if all things/luxuries are there, though)
ella=all, perumaingalum=luxuries/things,irundalum=to have, athu=though

unnadi vanangamal nilai perumo
(without bowing to you, they wont remain)
unnadi=to you, vanangamal=bowing, nilai=stay, perumo=remain.


stanza 4:
unnarul parvai illada varku
(those who dont have your blessing/benevolence)

ulagile vazha vazhi ethu, Amma
(have no way to live in this world, Amma)
ulagile=in this world, vazha=to live, vazhi=way, ethu=which/how, Amma=Mother- here the Godess Mahalakshmi is addressed as Holy Mother.

..... wrote all this for friends who wanted to sing along with this song, even though they didn't know Tamil. of course, for them to sing along, the whole song lyrics, as its sung in this song, (repeated at times):

nee ninainthal agathadu undo(1)
nee ninainthal agathadu undo(2)
neeraja dala nayani, mahalakshmi
nee ninainthal agathadu undo

maanida vazhkayile inba-tunbam(1)
maanida vazh-kayile inba-tunbam(2)
maanida vazh-kayile inba-tunbam (3)
maari maari varuvadum un seyal anro

maanida vazh-kayile inba-tunbam
maari maari varuvadum un seyal anro

nee ninainthal agathadu undo(1)
neeraja dala nayani, mahalakshmi
nee ninainthal agathadu undo

ella perumaigalum irundalum athu
unnadi vanangamal nilai perumo

ella perumaigalum irundalum athu
unnadi vanangamal nilai perumo

unnarul parvai illada varku (1)
unnarul parvai illada varku (2)
ulagile vazha vazhi ethu, Amma

unnarul parvai illada varku
ulagile vazha vazhi ethu, Amma

nee ninainthal agathadu undo(1)
neeraja dala nayani, mahalakshmi
nee ninainthal agathadu undo

.......that's it ;) (and this but a rough translation, Mind it ;)

18) Guilt

18) Guilt
Move afar, can’t you smell,
The wolf that sniffs,
It’s sharp nails,
Will tear your body.

Keep silence, can’t you see
The bear that wakes,
It’s huge hands,
Will crush your body.

Don’t touch, can’t you feel
The snake that crawls,
It’s poisonous lips,
Will burn your body.

Run away, can’t you hear
The hoof beats of ram,
It’s upturned horns,
Will bruise your body.

Stay away, can’t you imagine,
The conditioned mind,
It’s guilty thoughts,
Will scar your memory, for life.

short story 2- engineering student

Engineering Student
All engineering students smoke cigarettes, told my Mech. Roommate,
handing me a long, white one. ‘Haven’t you seen around?’ Till then I
had tried smoking only once, my uncle’s foul smelling bidi. But now
in this hostel room of my engineering college it seemed alluring. I
did regret accepting that fag, as I learned the slang for cigarette,
which made me cough and tearful and an amusing story for my roommate
to spread around about his ‘ghati’ (again a slang for naive or
unsophisticated) roommate. Yes, that was me, the first one from my
family to pass 10th standard exam and 2 years later get admission in a
far away engineering college.

I was always a loner. In my village, shunted because I was far ahead
academically there and in here because I am far below in
sophistication and coolness. I am also falling behind academically;
everything is becoming more confusing. I am unable to understand what
my classmates do to manage so many activities together. During
daytime it’s bunking lectures and hanging out in the canteen and at
night going out with girls wearing shockingly short and tight dresses
or partying in somebody’s room and keeping awake half the hostel.

For the first time in my life I started hating my slim, wiry frame,
my dark colored skin. My lousy clothes and white rain shoes which I
thought as hip when I bought them from the town Parnala, near my
village turned traitors and pointed me out for every one as the crude
village idiot and sneer at. And money, it haunted me day and night.
After two terms in college I could have faced all the ghosts in my
village together, but everyone in my family at village refused to
understand my plight, they had remained as village idiots all their
life and also force me to remain one. “You are not supposed to talk to
elder’s like that” or “is this why we sent you to the college?” was
their final statement. By the end of my third term, I was almost
crazee trying to find ways to earn some extra money decently, so that
I won’t have to borrow a few puffs from my hostel mates or have a
peaceful drink at least sometimes.

Things turned when news came from village that my grand uncle is
seriously ill. I left for village immediately as I knew this will
spark few fights for divisions, as most people in my village died
without leaving a will. He was dead and burned by the time reached my
bullock-cart village. There was already tension regarding division of
land etc. And I sensed opportunity and did my best to bring about a
division. After all, I have reached age of legal maturity. I missed
my third term exams, but didn’t miss out on the land deal, though so
many of my uncle’s were selling land after the division the price’s
had gone down. It fetched me a decent amount and I returned to hostel
as a hero. Now I had enough money to enjoy the tid -bits of life.

When you have money then it’s amazing how easy you can deal with
practicals, journals and exams. I always found a bar more soothing
than library to cool off during my next two term examinations and the
waiters were so understanding. But now my backlog was a total mess.
Even though I got one of my journals written by paying a student to do
it, nobody could help me to fill my term admission form as I didn’t
know which subjects I had opted and should opt for. My department
head was also pestering me and I decided to take a break from college.
I had enough of that dreary place, same old faces, same old nervous
freshies, and these days everyone seems so intense and sincere. There
were no fun people anymore out there.

Outside world was like a fresh breeze for me, I found my own room
near the town and I had more privacy, no nosy wardens and no headaches
of college. By now, I had cut off all contacts with my family
members. But living out of college also meant higher living expenses.
Soon I had to leave the town as the people who I owed money started
pestering me.

The new town was bigger and more expensive. But getting a motor bike
was so easy. I could own one by paying a fraction of the actual price
and pay the rest in installments. Zooming around in my bike like the
hero’s I had seen in movies; those were the best days of my life.
But one night that stupid bike slipped and fell, and my leg got
fractured and I had to stay in hospital for a month. The police
troubled me and tried to extract every penny for not charging me with
drunken driving and finally left me alone when I told them I am all
alone and broke and don’t mend spending time in jail. And there was
this one physiotherapist who tried to talk me out of addictions and
prodded me to do all those painful exercises to make my leg better. I
would have listened to him had he not told me about joining his cult,
whose members I had seen enough for a lifetime during my hostel days.
If the ward attendants there couldn’t have smuggled in the stuff I
needed every night I would have crawled out of that filthy place. It
was the longest month in my life.

My inheritance had disappeared so quickly. I had to look for cheaper
housing and I ended up in a hutment area where the rent was cheap and
cheap liquor plenty. Even at those cheap rates just after 23 days of
living in that hut, I was completely broke. Again, my clothes and
appearance became my enemies when I tried to borrow money. People
generally tend to be rude to a person whose appearance is shabby. I
had grown a bear and had only shabby clothes to wear. I had stopped
spending on all non-essential things and on top of that, my accident
had left a live scar and a limp. Now people started treating me like
a cripple. I couldn’t control myself if I didn’t have a drink or two
now and then. Finally, I decided to look for a job.

The only job with dignity, which offered to me, was that of a trainee
mechanic. But I had to take it, as could easily get petrol to drink
if I didn’t have money for alcohol. My engineering background helped
me to learn about repairs quickly. But sooner or later, one of my
drinking spells would be too much for my boss to bear and I would
start looking for another job. My reputation as a good mechanic and
worst drunkard grew quickly. But by now, I had mastered the art of
shifting from one town to another. It was my third town that year; I
had found a very good place to work. It was a large junkyard and a
huge garage. I had found a girl to stay with me also. Though
everyone called her crazy idiot, she could cook well and asked me no
questions and was very comforting during my crying spells when ghosts
from past came to haunt me, even alcohol couldn’t stop them and they
substituted for my violent spells. The crying spells were much better
because nobody hit back or fired me for that. For the first time in
my life, I had started saving up money for the future. But the past
was something I couldn’t do anything about. Those wasted chances to
make it big in college; it seemed I was condemned to live with people
who always want to remain idiots all their life.

It had rained in that night of December 31st and dampened the New Year
festive spirit of many. I had gone to work as usual. Most of my
co-workers were sleeping off their hangovers after the New Year
drinking spell. It was a good opportunity to scourge the junkyard to
see if I could find something small and valuable. It was tedious
working in the rain soaked piles. After some futile searching I saw a
funny type of wire structure with a working digital clock attached to
it. But the clock was not showing time but the date, month and year.
I tried to pull out that contraption but it was all mingled up. I
started prying it out but slipped and fell down into the mass of
wires. I was shocked-literally as electric currents started flowing
though the wires. A pad of lighted switches slid out from the digital
clock. My curiosity over came the mild current and confusion. I
fiddled with the lighted switches, and the date, which came out in the
digital clock, was the first day of my engineering college. Tears
rolled down my eyes and another crying spell started… How I wished I
could go back to that day again. My body writhed out of my control as
it happens during my spell and I fell unconscious as I received a big
jolt of electricity.

When I came to my senses it was night and I was in a strange railway
station. No, it was early morning and the railway station was the one
near my old engineering college. Somebody offered me a coin. I was
too shocked to refuse. After some time, I felt my senses coming back
to me, and I walked to the nearest book shop and bought the newly
arrived English daily. Now people started watching me curiously. I
read out the date and day first and couldn’t believe it. I had gone
back in time and it was exactly the first day of my engineering
college. According to the time shown on the huge station clock, I had
reached my hostel room and would have finished unpacking. My brain
began to race. I sat down near the station entrance, put the unfolded
paper in front of me and started begging...

It took me more than a week to get enough money for decent second
hand clothes so that I can walk in to even a college campus
unobtrusively without everyone staring at me. That one week also gave
enough time to plan what I should do. I went to my hostel room in the
afternoon, and without hesitation knocked loudly. There he was!! The
younger me opened the door apprehensively and after one look at me
started reciting the hostel anthem. It was the ragging season and I
still knew the whole anthem even now. My other self forgot the anthem
in the middle of a swear word and stared stupidly at me. I entered
the room and closed the door and told him to relax. Fortunately, his
room mate was out. It took me around an hour to explain him the
things. I knew he would believe; I would have in his age.

I started working in a garage nearby and we started planning together.
Teaching him about coolness was the toughest part, that it was
nothing but how you feel about yourself and nothing about what others
think. His insecurity and lack of confidence made me to forcefully
change him. I knew it was just a question of time for him to learn
about it himself, but I didn’t have that much time. By the third term
he was prepared and had improved dramatically from his awkward
appearance, academics and my leg and our English improved. We had
long discussions as how to invest the money he received from his
family inheritance. I also knew that a first class or 60% every term
is the margin set by some multinational company’s who come for campus
selection to filter out the crowds, so we would do a lot of
discussions on that but I couldn’t help much in the way of giving him
old question papers as I had forgotten about them. It was the hard way
out for us, and we slogged together. I could help him to understand
to some extend the practical side of theory thanks to my experience as
a motor mechanic.

It was New Year again, after the long wait of four years. It had paid
off. He passed out with flying colors and grabbed a lucrative job in
a big MNC with a car and a flat. Today we are going to inspect the
flat together. I had already made some inquiries at few furniture
shops. But somehow I feel a little uneasy as my other self was not
very enthusiastic about taking me along to the new flat in the posh
housing blocks the company had built recently. But this New Year’s
Eve I am going to celebrate opulently with peace of mind in my own
house, come what may...

It was the first day of another year and Major Balram was standing on
the door of his train and enjoying the rush of air. The train was
slowing for another signal. Major looked around the familiar
territory. He was shocked to see the new building complex with a huge
logo of big MNC come up in one year. These MNC’s thought major sadly,
change things too fast. They were the grounds where he had learned
first lessons in martial arts, and it had become his passion and in
the army had made him a legend. “Major Balram can name a person by
looking at his shadow”, his superior had told while recommending him
to the chief commanding officer. Major shrugged those thoughts aside
and looked angrily at those jutting buildings. Two shadows fighting
in one of the few lighted flats caught his eye, this is a fight which
will end only at death, thought the major and he started betting with
himself.

As the Major watched, some thing confused him, the style and body
movements of the two shadows were so impossibly similar. Major was
sure that not even identical twin brothers could do that. Because of
the similarity the fight went on and on, both seemed to sense the
other person’s movements. The Major observed anxiously but the train
started moving away...

short story 1-Two Steers

Two Steers
Carver died yesterday. It came as shock to me even though I was half expecting it. The bartender who told me about Carver’s death looked sad, sad that he had lost a regular customer. Carver wouldn’t have even one real friend, he was too sarcastic; “sorry, may his soul rest in peace, Hell!” I am becoming sentimental, that’s what Carver would’ve said, and that’s what he said, about eight years ago, in this same bar.

Those were the mid sixties, I was then struggling to make my ends meet, in the middle of my second book and in the middle of a countless writing block. The same bar, Two steers, where I am now sitting and guzzling... at that time I was not a loyal regular here just had hopped in.

Ah, all those memories are so near. Those days in my regular bar they had hired a bartend with a switch, ‘he told you sob stories after you got drunk.’ This had made some regulars leave and bought in some curiosity seekers.

I was one of the last one to leave. The bartend was not that bad, he was from some town called Parnala. God knows where on earth it was, and he told stories of famine and exotic things but later also about his fears and anxiety’s. At some point those stories started making me reflect and awaken my own insecurities and I started bar hopping to find a place of tranquillity and the usual listening kind of bartender.

To down multiple frustrations, I had downed too many; that’s when I met him, a seedy looking guy in his mid forties, had thick blond hair and a handsome broad cheeked face, but creased with too many lines; his light brown eyes were sparkling. With some alternations maybe I could put him down as a character in my book, and to know him better invited him over.

But once he opened his mouth I knew I shouldn’t even think about it, but he sure was some character, the minute he sat by me he downed the drink in one gulp, began to comment sarcastically and philosophize and I almost lost my kick. But he kept on buying drinks and I ended up revealing half my personal worries to him and dead drunk. Only alcohol can make you really open up or put you in a coma.

From then on we were together at the pub almost every day. He was always domineering, I guess I never got adjusted to that; but he used to tell me about his many experiences and that filled in for my failure to observe around, an important requirement for an aspiring author, as my creative writing course Prof. used to lecture us.

Carver also was an avid reader, had a naturally healthy body but ill-used it. He never held a regular job. At first I thought he was everything that I wasn’t; happy with himself, doing what he wanted, never worrying about others, no conservative background to haunt him and very handsome with natural talent. As time passed I came to understand him, though never fully. He was very unhappy and kept searching for some goal, but it remained elusive. He had married thrice, now a loner having divorced his third wife a couple of years ago. He got money in spurts and spends it like there is no tomorrow.

The black labeled bottle in front of me shook as a fat guy edged my table. I looked at him drowsily and returned to reminiscing. I came to know about carver’s death from the bartend because I never visited the bar for about a week. I was afraid of seeing carver again, maybe it was me who caused his death, no maybes, it was me, why am I running away from it? Carver always used to tell me that guilt can chase a man better than his own shadow.

Yes now I remember, he even told me about a story of a guilt-laden man always trying to escape from it, it was some Jim, the hero of the story. Jim always wanted to be a hero in his life but when he had a chance, he didn’t risk his life like heroes do; but escaped like a coward; even though later he became successful the guilt and cowardice always haunted him, so the next time when he had to choose between facing death bravely or running away and saving his life, he chose to face death, but didn’t come out alive like book hero’s do. Then I thought it was carver’s own experience, which he told me like a story, which wasn’t unusual.

I got to forget him and his memories. No but I can’t. How can I when it was only about a week ago that I saw him in his apartment, he was very pale, but the sparkle in his eyes were brighter even though he was bed ridden. There was a morose and bored looking nurse near him. It was the first time I had been to his apartment and it looked as if in a sorry state. I was still looking around when he pulled me near him and told me a crazy plan about getting out of the country and resettling in some far away country. He was very excited and suspicious, whenever the nurse came near he stopped talking, then resumed with increased nervousness and speed.

The whole thing was a puzzle, and the smell of medicines uncomfortable. But I sat there and bit by bit his jabbering made sense, but there weren’t even rumors about the country being taken over by the military and communists, and carver’s stomach wound didn’t look like a knife wound. Anyway I knew my country better than an outsider like carver.

I tried to calm him down, but he was becoming paranoid, then the only thing I wanted was to get out of that apartment, even though I could see he was in some serious trouble. So the next time the nurse came near I said a hasty good-bye and rushed out. I still could hear him yelling my name as I was going out. I even stopped going to the pub, and for one week I drank at my apartment and filled a lot of papers with meaningless words. I didn’t want to risk my position and State permit by following a crazy idea, and if anything went wrong I will never be able to return back.. I didn’t want to make any commitment and carver was just a pub friend, he always scared me a little with his unpredictability and was not growing any younger.

For one week I moved around my quarters like a rat, then on an impulse visited the two steers, our pub. Maybe carver wouldn’t speak with me or I was exaggerating the problems by imagining too much, so here I am sitting alone and drunk. The bartend was looking at me nervously. It was almost closing time and I have never been this late. Hell, I may as well as get out, too many old memories here. As I put the money on table I saw a knife underneath on the floor, maybe that fat man’s who nudged my table, he didn’t even apologize, people have no decency left in them anymore. I pocketed the knife and walked out.

Snow was falling, footpaths were almost empty. Trying to spot twin snow flakes I walked, as I was about to give up, heard the sound of heavy snow shoes from behind, then two new shoes passed by me, I looked up and saw a light brown overcoat and sign showing street no. 7. The light from the street lamps were dim, caused by combination of brown out and dirty lamps.

A snowflake hit my face, which was only uncovered part of my body, again I looked up, in snow everything looks grey. I slowed down as I saw street no.9, was looking down at me. Where am I going, to make sure I took up my wallet after a struggle from my back-pocket and looked at my card, street no.5, hell I am becoming absent minded, well, maybe a good habit to develop, absent minded author rhymes too, and a good excuse for not writing as regularly as earlier. That is what they seem to look out for nowadays, just quantity.

I got some money saved and am in a comfortable position enough to overcome it, anyway serious abstract writing always had a niche of its own. Serious abstract writing, it was how carver defined my style. Again carver, why does he still haunt me, why does he keep trying to find the loop hole, that black spot in me all the time. Got to forget him, better think about a new story; ‘bang..... bang’ gunshots, yes, but they have never been a part of my stories; jeee-sus, this is not my thought, it is for real.

I squinted my eyes and looked as far as I could see. Two three men in pointed caps were kicking a man who was on the floor, another was breaking a window. I looked around for a place to hide nearby was a handcart large enough to crawl in, but on side of it was written in big letters, ‘JIM’s... “Good god”, ‘Jim’ what the hell?!! I started to run forward, something wet fell on my thigh, still I kept on running, and from inside my coat took out the knife I had found in the pub. Then in front of me was a man in pointed cap, he came so suddenly and the gun in his hand gleamed.

My steps faltered, my knife stuck some where as I desperately tried to cling on… to keep me from falling. I got balanced a little and looked up. The pointed cap was now red and the knife was inside it and I was hanging on to the knife, which was twitching. I tried to take the knife out but my knees were weakening, the winter grey was turning black as I fell . . . (End)

may 2011- a new era!

each new day can be a new era, if you gain any insight.

anyone who have read OB would remember Hawthorne experiments as well as, Taylor's 'principles of scientific management'. where in a a Steel plant in Philadelphia Taylor began series of experiments aimed at improving the efficiency of the plant’s machinists, about 100 years ago.

He observed and then by breaking down every job into small steps Taylor created an “algorithm,” or a system. the employees felt they were turned into automatons, and
later charlie chaplin showed this in his movie by becoming such a worker himself.

but factory owners used time-and-motion studies with the goal - as Taylor had defined it in his celebrated 1911 treatise, The Principles of Scientific Management, - to develop for every job, best method of work - to create an utopia of perfect efficiency.
and the Taylorism was born:- “In the past the man has been first,” “in the future the system must be first.”
...........what would you think of this quote NOW?

the person who gave industrial psychology or Organizational behavior such a jump a century ago, now helps to give OB / psychologists / HR professionals etc --> more work now... that is of, changing the system to look at human beings in a humane way... (and you thought only computer software people created programs to develop their own future hardware market ;)

lets go some 25 centuries back now...
"as people are beginning to rely on the written word as a substitute for the knowledge they used to carry inside their heads, they would - cease to exercise their memory and become forgetful.”

And because they would be able to “receive a quantity of information without proper instruction,” they would “be thought very knowledgeable when they are for the most part quite ignorant.”

They would be “filled with the conceit of wisdom instead of real wisdom.”

so wrote Socrates, about 2500 years ago.

.........some feel, in next few years, language recognition software will improve a lot, and we wont have to read (we can hear webpages), and we wont have to even type - but just say what we want - and it will get typed on screen.
...and thus signalling the demise of reading & writing skills.

where's the world going to? ;) were the Luddites actually right?

let's see how many comments do i get for this.. ;)
maybe the new generation does like to type much..

17) Grey eyes

17) Grey eyes
Let me not drink,
For I am already drowned,
In her beauty,
Her walk, her whisper,
And an enigmatic glance,
I met her today.

My friends are chattering,
Music is playing,
My eyes are open,
But I see nothing,
Just wishing for one more look,
Oh ! I go mad.

I am going through,
The place we met,
In minds eye, again and again,
Trying to find,
The elusive meaning of that glance,
Even if it takes a life time.

But hope I’ll never see her again,
Only she’ll remain a memory,
Because, I don’t want to face,
Reality, faults find I may.

Now I want to dream again,
The way I met her.

16) Graffiti

16) Graffiti
During those carefree days
And countless friends,
Started this a story,
Of Ram and Sally.

It was in the canteen as usual,
Ram met Sally,
And drove us all crazy,
Until he knew her name.

Sent Ram many times,
Cards and roses,
And all of us played cupids;
After a month she relented.

In classes or theatre,
Always remained together,
Till they got married,
The next day of graduation.

They lived happily,
For some time,
Had their fun playing,
Wife, husband and home.

Then career and business,
Became Ram’s new mistress,
In the exam of life,
They both failed, parted.

Sometimes, I still come across,
In the college walls,
A hardly recognizable graffiti,
Ram loves sally.

15) Girl Child

15) Girl Child
There she is a white lily…
Now there, she is a curious child
Perplexing adults in her excitement…
And now she flies…

Lengthening shadows, the just-before-dusk
Spread shades of sadness,
But are unable to touch her now,
As she flies fast

Like the full moon,
She reflects the light,
Even on the
Darkest of the nights

Water, sparkling spiritual water,
They say, can cleanse
Even the human soul, and I say,
Her innocence should purify...

But there she is… now a brook,
But how long will this
Transformation endure,
Before engulfed in the ocean?

Never heard before,
But can this brook hold its sheen?
Even in an ocean… like stars in the sky.
Again she transforms...
Becomes hope…

14) Gen. Gap

14) Gen. gap
Hegemony:
 A world rooted in hegemony,
Heighten the spell of sorcery,
And those paranoid parents,
Thicken the folds of darkness;
On beings, they believe their possessions,
But are free like wind, water, trees
Who lead their own life,
Away from their accidental ancestors.


Sleeping beauty:
 The sleeping beauty, stuttered eye lashes,
HIS pale cheeks began to color again,
But the prince will have to sleep,
In that world forever,
Unless she kissed him;
And stood between them,
Wooden boards of coffin,
Which are indifferent to everything,
Except to those sharp instruments,
Which cut them to pieces.

13) Foe

13) Foe
Just let me be on my knees,
Let on my hand be a rose,
Let there be a smile on her face,
Let me that portrait finish,
Grant me this one last wish,
Love .. oh .. love.

I won’t be able to
Live in this sea of hate,
Unless you leave me with
At least a ray of hope,
Don’t maroon without even a drop of tear,
Love .. oh .. love.

Oh ! I would’ve lived always in a dreamland,
I would’ve cherished you, forever in my heartland,
But why didn’t you stop me from,
facing her, loosing her,
Love .. oh .. love.
Why did you become my foe.

Street play: Misconceptions about Mental Illnesses

Street play: Misconceptions about Mental Illnesses

(About 6-7 actors are the minimum need, and up to 10 actors can take part as it is flexible.)

Props: about 10 placards. 9 of them needed to be tied at two ends with a thread, or if more elaborate work can be done, then they can be stuck to caps or some head gear. In big lettering they should be written:
1) Pollution,
2) Infection
3) Food poisoning
4) Pickpocket
5) Angry boss
6) Death
7) Typhoid or cancer
8) Mad
9) Recovered mad
10) This will continue

SCENE - 1:
A director is doing his job, setting up a scene of a mental hospital. He is frantically running around, yelling at his actors and actresses to yell out more loudly, attack each other, laugh loudly and cry together, move body more etc. There are a few actors who are trying to look and behave like inmates of a mental hospital from a typical Hindi film. (The attempt is to make the mentally ill people look like they are a mix between insane and intellectually retarded people, who do stupid things, which is supposed to make audience laugh).

The clapboard is closed to indicate the scene has started, and then there is mayhem and chaos. Somebody is crying out loudly and laughing, a doctor is running around giving direct shock from broken wire and hitting people with a big hammer, somebody runs around to attack the audience. Suddenly a guy from outside walks in and the director yells, “cut, cut”.

The guy: (Who just walked in) What’s all this?
Director: We are shooting a mental hospital scene.
Guy: But hey, have you ever been to a mental hospital, seen the inside of a mental hospital?
Director: No, never, I didn’t have to… haha… haha

Guy: Hey, this is not a laughing matter, how can you show all these people about a mental hospital if you have not even bothered to find how it is?, and I don’t understand, even educated people like you (fingering audience) laugh when somebody is insulting your intelligence like this?? (the audience who were having fun till now, quiet down as they realize they had not thought of it earlier).

Director: hey, you got a point there, how does a mental hospital look?
Guy: let’s go to one, and let me show you all.

SCENE - 2:
Scene of a mental hospital as it usually looks in most parts of the world. It is more like any ordinary hospital for physiological diseases. There are a few people going on about their business, some are lost in their own world. Some are doing meaningful work. The doctor is treating people in a humane way. One of the guys is seen as being discharged as he has recovered and moving out. Other inmates wish him luck just in the normal way. The director is walking around observing all this and he claps his hands with other inmates when they clap to give the recovered patient a warm goodbye. Claps and claps.

SCENE - 3:
At the two ends of stage two people are standing. A voice over comes and introduces them. Then guy-1 starts walking forward and is seen walking ahead all the time. Suddenly he closes his nose as if he has neared a smelly place. A person wearing the board pollution runs out to the stage and runs around guy-1 and disappears. Guy-1 gets a bit tired and droops, but within a few seconds straightens up and walks back normally.

Then guy-2 walks ahead, towards him a guy with board of pick-pocket runs and circles and disappears. The guy-2 after few seconds searches and finds his loss and droops for some seconds, then shrugs off and walks back normally. Similarly for guy-1 food poisoning comes and for guy-2 it is firing from his boss, and in the third round, infection through mosquito for guy-1 and death of a close person for guy-2. All three times they recover after momentary affect.

Then in the fourth round for guy-1 all three things come together and dance around him and he falls down, and when the dancers disappear he is wearing a board - typhoid. And for guy-2 all three things dance and he also falls down and is seen wearing a board MAD.

Voice over: when our body is imbalanced it shows symptoms - sometimes they are psychological symptoms and sometimes they are physiological and sometime a mixed effect. The person is not responsible for it totally in either case.

SCENE - 4:
again guy-1 and guy-2 are standing at 2 ends, guy-1 is cared by his family, but guy-2 with MAD as the board on him is kicked out and people are pushing him, laughing at him, kids throw stones at him etc. guy-1 recovers quickly, puts on the board on recovered from typhoid and is welcomed by his colleagues and relatives. Guy-2 is put in mental hospital and recovers slowly alone and is put on the board of recovered MAD.

When guy-2 returns home, a small kid runs to welcome him, but other older members restrain her and tells him to get lost, and that once MAD means always MAD. Onlookers also nod their heads to agree and laugh at the recovered mad guy-2 and push him away, kids throw stones at him, and everyone dance madly around him. When they go back, the guy-2 is put the board of MAD and he is lying down on the floor in pain.

Voice over: “discrimination done between a physiological and a mental disease is due to ignorance, nobody can change the chemical changes that happens in their brain just like nobody can kill cancer cells on their own. Both are diseases and these people need help and co-operation from outside world”.

SCENE - 5:
One guy comes in front and tells the audience that to help people in distress and improve our society we need unity, if we stand together we can overcome problems. Another actor then walks in and says we need mass education, and that knowledge is the key for a better future. The first guy is looking in astonishment when a third actor comes and says we need sympathy for others and peace in our heart and the world will become a paradise.

The two others push the third away and a fourth comes and says we need to have faith and belief, and only God can help us sinners, and fifth and sixth one come together and start saying technological advances are what we need to concentrate and sixth one yells justice and equality should be enforced and their is a pushing match and these people start yelling and hitting each other and mayhem and chaos reigns. One guy with a big placard written, “THIS WILL CONTINUE”, walks around the fighting people as the curtain falls. (To signify, good intentions also require team work and systematic efforts to reach fruitful stage, this is the punch line or twist at the end).

[This street-play won 2nd prize in Bombay Univ. annual fest. in ’97. Written and directed by Venky Iyer, Actors: Shashank, Deepa, Vidya, Indrayani, Atish, Venky (MA Psychology Dept) & Abhijit (Math Dept) and Samir].

12) Dust

12) Dust
A smoldering fire,
Was blazing erect,
Aided by the windless night,
In the middle of darkness;
In the middle of darkness?

All around the fire,
Ghosts dancing in silent music
Their giant shadows falling,
In asymmetrical patterns;
In asymmetrical patterns?

Through the cracked earth,
Flow scenes from the past,
Broken dolls, burned papers
And rising in midst,
Dust of unrealized dreams.

11) Dreamer

11) Dreamer
Her laugh defines freedom,
Her clothes casual than denim,
Her glance borders on carelessness,
Her eyes brim with mischievousness,

Her hair reminds me of an unruly child,
Her makeup invisible like wind,
Her attitude so damn cool,

Her books bricks in a wall,
Her face a treasury of myriad expressions,
Her walk breezy like air.

Her specs golden like her heart, I am sure
But her awareness, I am alive zero?
That’s all I want to change,
Maybe tomorrow.

10) Dream

10) Dream
I had a long lost dream,
With the innocence of childhood,
Just a few seasons behind,
But unseen like last years rain.

A dream to awake, to hear the
Squeaking of heart, while lost in rat races,
Digging deeper into the mine,
Searching for the glittering dust.

It didn’t matter,
Whether I was waddling or walking,
As I stared through the thickening mist,
Up at the widening sky.

Lack of light, didn’t stop
Me, from stopping,
And to engrave my name in gold,
I am still running.

9) Cure

9) Cure
Pigments color the skin,
Climate affects complexion,
Creases come with age,
Changes a person a lot, care
And beauty is only skin deep;

Though curse I myself, later
Can’t seem to help craving,
To converse, caress,
Can’t afford the bills,
Can’t the ceaseless chatter bear
Yet, can’t seem to help suffering,
From countless heartaches.

But stops me not, all this awareness,
From falling again for a pretty face;
And can’t seem to find a cure,
For this confounded thing;

Seem so intense,
During their duration,
And fool me every time,
These hollow emotions…

8) Crush

8) Crush
Your casual clothes,
Your careless walk,
Your white hair band,
Your black watch
And the bag you carry,
Only half filled with books,
I like all those things about you.

Your mischievous curly strand of hair,
Which keep falling on your face,
Your black lovely eyes,
Which overflows with innocence,
Your sweet smile,
Which brightens up the whole place;
I like all those things about you.

I don’t know your name,
But it is as beautiful I am sure,
I haven’t heard your voice,
But I won’t come near,
Because I am afraid to hear,
The word, ‘No’
So I’ll stay away from you,
Until I can like even that word from you.

7) Circus

7) Circus
Kids craning their necks,
Amidst feeble claps,
Smell of animal dung
And glaring lights all around.

Unusual acts performed
In colorful costumes.
People living on the edge,
Of fame and lameness.

The phony weights and
Fake roars,
And an accidental death,
In the final act.

In no man’s land,
Almost every year,
It comes and goes,
Leaving tent marks.

Because of a free pass,
I also went to see,
To find forgotten memories,
But were beyond remembrance.

6) Childhood

6) Childhood
Many memories surround,
Around my village pond,
Filled with dark green waters,
And one half with weeds.

School and to play after,
Scattered all over,
Four different god’s houses
And my punctual mates.

A time when home was a shelter,
Parents my protector,
Every companion a friend,
And any place a playground.

All the teachers cruel,
Every girl untouchable,
And each new day
Dawned with bright hopes.

Don’t remember how,
Got I transformed, now
Ask often god, why did you put
The best of life at first?

But it gave me,
A foundation filled with pleasure,
And to reminisce,
An era of happiness?

5) Burial

5) Burial
As I walked toward sea,
Dark, silent, with quickly
Moving feet,
A funeral procession,
Turned the corner with me.

A black box,
Freshly screwed tight, covered
With white cloth, floated
On shoulders, along with
The rhythmically moving footsteps;
I followed.

Made heavy by dew drops,
Grass blades bent, touched and released,
Their burden on my feet, as I stood,
Alone in the burial grounds, unable to
Wipe out the memories, like tears,
As people did, when they left me,
Standing like the marble slabs
To let dew drops escape to the ground.

I left, trailing behind,
Etching strange patterns,
My unburied coffin.

4) Blackness

4) Blackness
In a spot of darkness,
Changing their forms,
Images appeared,
The more I stared.

A house, a man or trees,
Reflected in the light of stars,
Till ennui took over,
Trying to understand the perceiver.

That vision returned in the night,
Now into a bottomless pit,
It transformed and made me sink,
Rang alarms, but I tried, not to wake.

The body’s weightless feeling,
Giving up of control, without fighting,
But treacherous eyes opened,
Dumping me back in solid bed.

Now without fear I return to the place,
Jump into that spot of darkness,
To explore again my forbidden self,
But bounce back to humdrum life.

3) Atheist

3) Atheist
The wasted hours of praying,
In front of a stone carving,
And other ironical rituals,
Sets afire atheistical spirits.

Every god is a symbol,
And all religions a party, political,
They promise you an asylum or salvation;
Just like others, to stay in contention.

Because your parents, forced
You from your childhood,
Fearing the stigmas of society,
Bond you are with a (religious) party.

Held sacred the ancients, best sellers
Helped by longest ever campaigns,
But from mere followers of it,
Fanatical we’ve become, in spirit.

Compete with science, theories;
Like the world was created in seven days,
Or came through the navel, because of people,
Conditioned like Pavlov’s dogs.

2) Anti-depressant

2) Anti-depressant
Will you ever know
The way you make me feel…
Even the thought of your tears... Makes me feel
Like a raging storm… blind in its fury.

Your absence… makes me feel
Like a scared, lonely child… on a corner.
Your eyes… make me feel
Like a gentle breeze’s heart… on a desert.

Your upward look… makes me feel
Like a fire, burning on… to consume itself.
Your smile… makes me feel
Like the sky… where birds fly.

Your silence... makes me feel
Like earth’s core… where volcanoes erupt.
Your teasing... makes me feel
Like calmness met chaos... and dance.

Your laughter... makes me feel
Like a mirror... be in that frame forever.
Your kind word... makes me feel
Like the morning… in a prayer.

You… make me feel
Like waking up... to dream again,
To find whether you will ever know
The way you make me feel…

1) Another day

1) Another day
Crying children,
Shapeless houses,
Cracked footpaths,
Boisterous vendors,
My creased worn shoes
Moved around a banana peel.

Walking through the flow,
All alone in a sea of faces,
Covering the usual distance,
To the crammed office buildings,
Climbing up the wooden stairs,
Glared at the faulty lift.

Away from the dry brown designs,
Footfalls echoing around me,
Unconsciously adjusting the tie,
Sat on the sagged chair;
Looked through the piles of files,
To see the dress of stenographer.

Drinking the usual tea,
Waiting for the boss to come,
Wishing for an earthquake,
I started another day.

who's faith is it anyway?

haven't been blogging since a long time, it seems.
been doing more facebooking than anything else on the net, as it seems to be the trend. everyone tends to go where they get feedback ;)

been hearing many queries about some topics again and again these days.. especially from the youth brigade. and was generally surfing net and found some cool articles - explaining exactly such topics.

so here are those links.

http://nirmukta.com/2010/01/14/reincarnation-rebirth-and-past-life-regression-therapy-in-india/

http://nirmukta.com/2010/01/21/review-the-god-market-how-globalization-is-making-india-more-hindu-by-meera-nanda/

http://nirmukta.com/2010/07/07/misunderstanding-freedom-of-speech-in-india-case-studies-islamist-zakir-naik-maoist-rebels-film-actress-kushboo-artist-mf-hussain/

http://nirmukta.com/2010/04/20/freeing-devi-a-pragmatist-argument-for-gender-equality-in-the-freethought-movement-in-india/

ofcourse, if you dont have time to read such stuff - you can just watch part-2 of kumar and harold go to white castle.. there are some other movies too, kinsey (2004), shortbus (2006), i can't think straight (2008) - which explore hithero taboo aspects of human mind. maybe faith & sexuality are topics not to be discussed at all, when there's weather. but global warming can be a potential disaster as well, as a conversation starter ;)