wait

wait; i just touched you,
on the bed which i made for the sleep.
you didn't cuddle me in your arms
nor did your lips land on my forehead.
you're like a passenger next seat
white strands, dim eyes, holding
yourself in trembles and convulsions.
you started too early my dearest.
wait for a few more minutes, until
you feel mine; we'll go together.

utter madness

I am walking out of phase
Stepping up the noise
A tap then jump, flick and slide
Repeating with sync, tap-ti-dap
A run, a run and then sudden turn
Do out, do in, wave on arms
A run, a run and then turn around
Out -- out -- out of control
And the last jump.

crises!

here and there

keys and scratches
punctures, closed doors
candle heat, misfit
broken glasses, a stick....

chair, ballot box
pamphlets, slogans
pandals and speakers
slippers in flight....

carbon, soot, brown lands
black water, green water
city for king-kongs
man-made mountains....

a rubble, reversed symbols
gas chambers, water boarding
orange flag, red flag
flesh painted red....

bed of rocks blanket of air
cow's urine to wash hair
search in gutters of 5 star hotels
the untouchable green paper....

a crying baby,
a crying baby,
a crying baby,
a crying baby,

Subtle nuances

I find you between the tic and the toc,
in the pauses of countenance,
between halts and resumes,
spaces that separate words ,
camouflaged by white lilies,
sometime as trailing ellipsis,
between flints.
Free of language, you talk, 
flirt with unnoticed moments,
like water and alcohol
Anonymous with no citizenship.
 

Me

Think of me as a rose or mimosa
an omnibus or magnum opus
a swing may do more justice
than the colours of wind
a surreal landscape may tickle your fancy,
like the Japanese cherry tree
I may not be what you see
magnet, amoeba, lotus leaves
or a swarm of bumble bees
perhaps a mirror would do better
to describe me.

Pray, do not...

Isn't it easy to escape just by saying 'tata' 'gn'
leaving the conversation unended,
words unspoken?
Do you not realize how I ride with you
up and down the mountains, catching every
stone you throw?
How can you not recognize the things
which have injured me so,
that people refuse to laugh at it?
Have not your prudent thoughts ever warned you?
What blinds you to allusions?
Are you pitying me for the state I have come to?
Do not, do not, pray, do not degrade me any more.
I can barely face the insults, thrown at me in public,
by the one whom I adore to the core.

surreal

dream in dream, fancying a dream
i wake up to sounds of real life... 
only to realise that i am still asleep
dreaming a dream, fancying a dream of real life.
:)

I can not

I can not hold can have no control
over the passing time which pushes every act
into memory so ethereal, so abstract, so surreal
that even language shies away from its description.
I can not describe can think of no words to write
of the weird feeling I get to breathe in same air
to walk on same soil with young heart and thoughts
where once you resided. I can not get past the loss.

Dead submission

You breed silence and stillness,
to punish the shouts, confessions
of blood and body,
of you and me.
I hate the dirt, which you give me
at night, which I try to wash off,
which shines with guilt
which paints my flesh which crawls on me.
I am shy of your equilibrium
shy of your eyes staring at me
as I stand naked in pouring rain
as you watch the droplets run over me.
I will still submit to you silently
when you want me
for your resistance, for your luxury.
Then. You can have all pieces of me.

Kyriarchy

Unlike the triangle of food chain, there is no definite hierarchy when it comes to kyriarchy. Everything is topsy turvy or circular rather, with no bottom or top, with no creature on the edge. Every one has at least two degrees of connections. I see kyriarchy in action everywhere, ever since I have learnt about it. What brings a person to dominate? Position, strong emotions, physique, knowledge, talent, money, color,  normalcy? Similarly, what obliges the other to submit? Tolerance, lack of commitment, lack of integrity or self belief? Why is it so prevalent in nature? Is kyriarchy a result of conscious effort? Do we see it in action amongst animals also? There are definite and logical reasons if we were to identify any such things in animals. The stronger ones and the ones greater in number have always had advantages over the weaker and the single ones. What makes us different from animals is our conscience which we consciously use to exploit the weaker forms. Sometimes society itself creates groups which then play roles of oppressors and the submitters.

We are intolerant. We mind. We dislike. Our hubris overrides equality. We see it happening all around us and so we become conditioned to do that. We love power. We love to be on the top. We like to be superior always, in everything we do. We can never get rid of it. Can we?

One thing we surely can try (whenever possible) is to try to bust it every time our conscious and righteous mind encounters it.

Thingies

I see them in the malls, streets,
my room and on my body.
Those snakes lie still. Hibernating.
In baggages, on desks, shelves
their whisper - a mocking hiss.
The bourgeois, wannabes are
fancying their scales.
What an absolute vanity!
No bones but still definite
in their shape and purpose.
They dis-ease you.
How am I to get rid of them?
My skin itches for I am dis-eased.

Your desert

When you refused to water the plant
it turned pale and dry
Leaves fought brightness,
the roots - soil life.
Left in one corner. There.
to decay to die to self-destroy

But soon fell the first drops
who started colouring it -
green, brown, pink,
yellow, blue, white, red....

Now the world behind your back
blooms with joy.

Birth

I am born - to a sinking rhythm
which opens my inside -
thrilled, excited, grounded,
restricted, unfurled, possessed.
Like countless mechanical beats
it breathes endlessly -
inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale
inhale-exhale, inhale-exhale..
I can neither wait nor explode
for it burns with fierce constancy
first my lungs then my heart
then my whole body and brain
Bring me the luggage,
the shame
i need to get back
i need to take birth. Again.

Red Addiction

Addicted I am to your fragrance,
your soft, compelling body,
tender touch - skin-to-skin, lip-to-lip,
to your bold and faint
pleasing velvet and cold kiss.
I float on bed to feel you,
become you. One color one thought.
slow, slow, slow O Rose!
Hold me in your arms forever...

An inspiration

And on the formal day I saw you
though a brief meet
my admiration knew no bounds...

beautiful mind, plain clothes,
strong ideas, humble voice,
language - like a flowing river...

"An ordinary Indian
with extraordinary capabilities"
you earned a hundred badges...

a handsome scientist,
romantic poet,
thoughtful humanitarian,
guide, friend, an inspiration...
and other times - just a -
"reliable white haired praani"

the list is endless...
and my admiration knows no bounds...

Should I thank, pay respect,
feel honoured or just be glad?
I do all....

Eradicate

In a shrunken world
on the foothills
lives a restless granny
Kill her with a huge stone
you need to.
A rash driver, she crushes
dreams. Punish her
for greater a crime
of murdering your mind.

i expect you

i expect to see you
when i'm outside
expect you to see me
noticing you with fixed eyes
but you come never!
to place we belong

Your eyes

Cold is the ocean at night
Ice amongst ice is still colder
Coldest I find are
your eyes - the hollow mirrors
the white canvases,
dried, numbed, stoned
colder than ever!

A tribal woman

I know how beautiful you are
That black and white photograph of yours
Has earned a million likes.
You were unknown to me until one day,
When I stumbled upon your picture.
You donned those heavy metals
Made by yourself in the furnace
Your eyes were fearless yet calm
Accepting fate with pride in mind
Your sun tanned skin had its own story
Which kept your shaved head held high
That very instant, when I saw you,
You gave me a note of womanhood.
How complete I feel watching you!
You, O Tribal Woman!

To the land who breathes and bears

Who are you? I dare ask
Who stripped you off your
vibrant yellow robe?
Your hollow eyes and still feet
Tell me that you are ill
Your arms are stretched apart
Weeping in silent acceptance
Is there an invisible cross beneath you?
Why do not you scream in agony?
Mother....scream, will you?

Tink,
Have you any idea
Of my unused wings?
Fly I could just like you
To visit flowers in spring.
Lost I my pixie dust
Tried when I to swim.
My glowing skin
Would make waters blush.
But I've lost them all
Somewhere in rush.

Where have I come Tink?
You sure know this place
Will you help me link,
My way back to my old self?
Will you dance my pain away?
I've got problems Tink.

A diary entry

I have developed a new hobby - bird watching; all thanks to my friends who one fine morning set out to observe birds around the campus. Listening to their stories, I joined them with tremendous enthusiasm the next time. So I marked my first day of serious bird watching on 14th March 2013.
In pleasing infant morning, with alert ears and eyes, heads turned up, staring at the uncouth architecture of trees, we took a stroll alongside the main streets in campus. In no time the tiny birds started showing up. Tweeting, flying and chasing each other all across the space, they flew around like 6 year old kids on a playground. Only about 4 to 5 inches in height, these birds kept us fixed, for a long time, at one place.
Then came an unusual sound somewhere from the top and we were all excited to see the Greater Coucal elegantly flying from one branch to another, each a step higher. His brown wings and huge black body grabbed us in awe. We kept noticing it through out the trip. The next bird which caught our attention had a beautiful and well-defined forked tail. This was the Black Drongo. His silent flight from one tree to another was worth watching. Little did we know what awaited us next - the White-throated Kingfisher! His serene composure on a twig, the beautiful blue-brown-white-red colours on his average sized body and a long beak was a sight we could never have missed in that little patch of greenery besides the faculty quarters. After spending about 15 minutes around Kingfisher we were all excited for our next surprise which was, as we named it -, watching it hop on the lawn, - the hopper (White-browed wagtail). This not-so-tiny hopper was the most delightful bird of the trip. Watching it run-and-hop all over the place was so much fun. We called it a day when we saw other students (rather mean-birds) walking towards the mess. That was my first day of bird watching. On the second day we saw Common Grey Hornbill, Indian Robin and Red-vented Bulbul. On our disheartening trip to bird sanctuary, we saw Purple Swamphens and Flemingos. Almost everyday after recognizing the birds, I find Indian Robin come and greet me. It is surely one of the cutest birds I have ever seen.  I wish to become a serious bird watcher someday.

Brown ink and blank paper
Table lamp and a glass of water
Eyes closed and monkey mind
Will a fine word you find?

A little scribble, a couple of lines
A sentence or simple design?

Tweets of tailor birds
The tick tok of clock
You are inside your head
Walk my sweet heart,
Have a nice walk.

If someday we meet
If our roads cross
Reminded I'll be
of that uncommenced story.

This unknown start will have no end.
How will I greet you my dear friend?

I realized my love that day
when you had already turned away
But I, my friend, had no right
To stop you there and fight

Sans a leave, sans a word
You left my company
Alone I became
In this unfinished game.

I knew your commitments
Your love and life
I accepted all of them
And just wanted to be your friend

Unworthy I was?
Or too much did I ask?

I am not aware, I am not aware.
Just tell me how I should greet you
If someday I see you across the street
If in some distant future we meet.

But of this I'm not sure my friend - 
whether I'll even get see you again.

I'll miss you
Really miss you
Until the very end.

Little did I know, when I was a school kid, that dancing would be my sole source of delight and that I would regret not having trained myself in any of the dance forms in my early formative years. Every time I listen to a beautiful piece of music, I am expediently attended by my influenced moves and imperfect lines which, although incomplete, satiate my thirst. My afflictions aggravate when I realize my actual bodily strength; blame I the lack of dedication. But dear dance, how I love you so much! Such excruciating a pain and anguish I experience for letting you remain crippled for life!

Right from my tender age, perfectly disposed, because of constant conditioning by my grandparents, to become some kind of activist, I pondered over societal miseries and deteriorating foundation on which we reside in frightening oblivion. I squandered my time, energy and thoughts, away on something that I would never do, but only dream of doing, in my life, and hence regret not having given a chance to that inception. Although my conditioned mind loved the notion of clean-up of every form of dirt from society, disentanglement of multifaceted issues which decay owing to stagnancy, establishing logical ideas to repair the fractured edifice and constructing a foolproof system to ease the work of tomorrow's leaders; I never really tried enough to materialize any of them.

Neither the original passion nor the instilled path did I follow; instead I ventured into a completely unrelated and never-thought-of field. I did not make my destiny. Destiny, for the lack of my efforts, itself chose its path and I hate myself to this day for having obliged to it. 

I accepted those terms which would eventually lead me no where. Why didn't my prudent mind hold myself guilty of such greater an impropriety? Blind indeed I was for I lacked vision. I had switched myself into a - disapprobation-to-all mode, turning down every opportunity which I'd rather grabbed and performed. If only I had a little sense of my sensibility, I would have been in a different universe right now. I detest my current abode and mental state but unfortunately, I will have to wait 2 or 3 more months for this chapter to get over.

2 years are all I have
To live, learn and enjoy,
Just 2 more years to prove
my identity, my independent self. 

Only around 700 days left
To comfort mom and dad,
Be their good daughter 
And a guidance to my sister.

Of that dreadful day I dream
Of apparent glitter and shine
When, in my fancy bridal wear
I'll stand at the altar unprepared.

Six and twenty I will be
Thinking of all the life behind
Yellow metal won't be a burden
More than the thought of separation.

Who will understand my mind?
Or my mom's courageous heart?
How will my dad give me away?
Unwillingly, we will part.

Why should I believe you
when I know you are lying?
I know obvious reasons
which you think you can hide

It's all my fault,
I let my emotions run free
You don't even know
that they still hurt me!

All I asked was to be friends with me
Nothing more nothing less
Every time I see you now
I feel a plain stab in my heart.

You could have told me
But you didn't
Why should I suffer?
Why should I let myself suffer?

This Tricky Illusion

I thought I was your good friend
Since start of this new stage
Those fun times we had back then
Those long walks and frequent dinners
All of them I remember.

You shared every news
And all the daily happenings
From morning bread to evening toast
From poor childhood to frustrated youth days
You told me every story you remember.

I admired your character
Your strength and thoughts
Your integrity and  wisdom
And whenever you wore that stoic face
More than ever I admired you.

Your laughter and freedom
Your ability and knowledge
Your bizarre ideas and wicked solutions
Kept me wondering
"Are you from this planet?"

Or a 'Figment of My Imagination' you are?
I try to trace back along the year
To find out where I went wrong
Such great an irony this is
I can't even ask you what's wrong!

You've changed since last October
You behave as if we never met
Your answers to my questions
Charity to a destitute, now they seem
You've started avoiding me.

I cried a river in vain
My heart couldn't accept this
My mind couldn't reason out
Why did you throw me away
Like a worthless torn garment?

I thought you were my good friend
And so all my secrets I shared
My old dark closet I opened
And before you tumbled the skeletons
Shameless, careless but faithful and obedient.

Read I, my life to you
As it was, as it should have been
Revealed I, my dreams to you
As they fertilized and shaped
Stood I, all naked before you!

Now, our conversations sound funny
Like two strangers talking
Thinking why we are still talking
And I should be alone here
But indeed, we are, from birth!

'You see me', you said once
Thought I found a true friend
But to you this friendship is
Just a headless ghost on your shoulder
And my blood boils to know that!

In your dreams you kill someone
And bury the body in campus
That someone turned out to be me
Prematurely you murdered me 
A living dead I became unfortunately!

I thought I was your good friend
I thought you are my good friend
But neither you nor I
Proved to be good let alone best
Wasn't this the trickiest illusion?

Left back all emotions,
dreams and desires
alone somewhere in early Jan.
Peeled off pink silk
I was marred and wounded
open to dust and grey sand.
Pacifier kept ticking,
and vision blurred
sinking beneath blue good byes.
Now I gather myself
just to tell you my Love
that you reside as tear drops in my eyes.

I lost you

Do you know what will happen if you leave me? 

Do you know that I dread this day deeply? 

The tale of love will remain 'Once upon a time' 

And the pages will freeze with that incomplete rhyme 

All my dreams I'll bury in some place unknown 

And dissolve my emotions into desert's swishing tone 

That first kiss that last hug that silent night that warm rug 

Every little memory I'll keep in my mind 

And be on my own till some reason I find 

And do you know why I composed this piece? 

Its because you have finally left me in grief 

And none of what I just said I am able to do 

Since I am stuck in this infinite loop 

I made promises to forget all the roses 

But their fragrance still haunt my senses 

Your voice lingers in my mind at nights 

As if you are whispering me those late delights 

Why did you leave, why did we depart? 

Why had I built our home in my heart? 

I am left with questions, questions unanswered 

I feel like an expressionless creature in herd 

I am losing my understanding and ability to discern 

As my life without you is being swallowed by the sun 

I remember how I wished I were your fate 

But now its all done since I have lost You my soul-mate.

Far I have come, away from home Farther I wish to go Lonesomeness has started teaching me Facets of independence and freedom. I am left with a moulding vessel, At the learning center here Like thousand others I started off To shape to mould to nestle. I love this clean air and slient night I love to spend time with me I have come to value myself And change definitions of the right. This is a whole new stage A ring to fight with my old self A quest to acquire the treasure chest A key for breaking open the cage. I am old enough to not get a loan So I pull myself up by my bootstraps Its a challenge I have given myself I now face this new zone.

Who am I?

More of me than anything else.

I am very observant and impressionable. I very easily and quickly grasp things and unknowingly/involuntarily/sub-consciously or sometimes consciously/purposely/voluntarily imbibe those things in my life, daily behaviour, routine, character and actions so much that sometimes it is difficult to recognize myself. I respond differently to different stimulus. I am different - to people with different situations and - to different people with same situations. I am even different to myself at times! I change, rapidly change. My thoughts transform and come into light as if they are there since my birth. I ofttimes manipulate. I ofttimes pretend. I ofttimes stand exposed. I ofttimes speak my heart. These transformation are so rapid that I sometimes forget who I am and what my basic and inherent traits are. I enter a shell and leave it as soon as the season changes. I keep changing these shells from inside and outside. I can love and at the same time hate someone. I can admire and at the same time be jealous of someone. I can feel good and at the same time pretend to be feeling bad. I shape situations so that they favour me. I can attract and I can repel people and situations as well. I can implant thoughts in other's minds. I can make them behave in the way I want them to. I am amoeba. I am magnet. I am hypocrite. I am manipulator. I am controller. I am bad. I am smart.

Its like being on stage and playing some character. Every time I take up the stage, I play a different role. I act. I pretend. And after I finish my part I ask myself WHO AM I?

I am lost. I am confused. I am ignorant.

Shy Voice

Among the ferocious words, my thoughts voluntarily silenced themselves.
So I hid my obvious expressions in the pillow of midnight darkness.
My body temperature and pulse kept dipping deep low.
And I enjoyed the descent steeping each step below.
Heavy beats transitioned into a piece of soothing rhythm,
Like an aging turtle I synchronized my time bound freedom.
There was no end to the depth of lonely blue ocean.
So I shed my clothes to swim across & dissolve in the emotions.
To the world I became quite and redefined 'Aboli' in true sense,
But how could I explain the world; my voice felt shy to express this experience.

Mea Culpa.

[Sacred Thread]
Brother,
The strength you have, makes me proud.
Your brave decisions I admire.
Your presence encourages my talent.
The wisdom you impart dissolves all limitations.
For all the wise words of advice, I am thankful.

Its comforting when you speak.
Its bright when you laugh.
Its warm when you hold hands.

I study every step you take.
I carefully listen to your words.
And I try to be you in your absence.

Do you know how much I adore you for what you are?

We were blessed with shelter when God created Fathers.
We understood life when God created Mothers.
We received love when God created Sisters.
And we got a strong support when God created Brothers.

All I have is a prayer for your protection and a thread to tie around your wrist;
So that you can be my strength forever.

Happy Raksha Bandhan.

Meeting my Crescent friend

[My friend]

Time says sleep is the need,

But heart has all its thoughts freed .

So I lie, below the moon-lit sky 

As the silver rays touch my eye.

The shining bright Crescent I see, 

Smiles with steady gaze at me, 

As if a lost amigo he found,

In the cold dewy meadows around.

He sends message across universe,

To tell all stars to disperse.

So that he may be cozy with me

Besides the old lemon tree.

We sit and talk for hours together

Wishing the moment could be held forever.

Because in his soothing words I find

My refuge so humble so modest so kind.

The silence of noise joins in

So does water's glowing skin.

And we together sing the firefly song

Till the night starts fading along.

We then, at orange horizon, depart 

With a subtle content getting absorbed in heart

That at the end of every day we'll meet

My friend I will have for you a cheerful greet. 

Happy Friendship Day.

  

Virgin heart

THOUGHT

I wonder what makes my life so simple

Is it my work or speech or my stars that twinkle?

Right from my childhood I have always received 

Teachers' praises for every tiny height I achieved.

Every passer by wish was fulfilled

Without me ever expressing my will.

I was just practical with my ways in order

And inhabited in my mind's racing recorder. 

I am indeed aware of all my innate flaws 

And thus inch by inch each day I withdraw.

But my backward movement seems invisible

Since I am gifted with a magnet indivisible.

I attract all things alike - good and bad 

Bad seems to make me learn a lesson on time

While good comes as pearls strung on line.

And when this makes the motion forward

My joyous heart feels shortly absurd. 

Its the incompetency that eats me up

Along with insecurities of flaws which club.

I sometimes need someone to convince me

That I really deserve what comes my way so easily.

Hollowness vacuums my lungs inside

As I move to better place to reside.

Am I really worthy of this fortune?

Is question I face every morning and noon.

And probably this makes me so modest

Making my image so perfect and best.

But isn't this worse than ostentation

As hypocrisy mocks at my mirror reflection?

When will I taste the sweat of my hard work?

When will my clothes be darkened with dirt?

I want to experience the joy of labour

And not sleep on bed of roses of unknown favour

There was no apparent silver spoon 

But life was made easy by just one boon.

That boon is my mother who toils for my life

Every second for peace she has strived

And til now I passively enjoyed fruits of her action

Ignorantly living in mode of richness and passion.

But now the time is knocking my door

To understand whats life worth living for.

My childhood, you caressed, O mother

I swear your old age I will make better

As I move to new age and new place

Lots of habits I need to replace

So that every time I have a fall 

Again I will make myself stand tall

Its time to move and breathe life into my self

And crush all virgin insecurities that dwell

Once I get my wheels back on road

Hard work will be the single chore

And then the sweat oozing out of my forehead

Will make me proud and worthy of the earned bread.

Scarlet Story

Fading

Just found a dead rose in my garden

Turning brown and pale in the heat

It lost its essence and mesmerizing beauty

As its own plant was found to be a cheat.

I picked up that rose with great care

And kept between the pages of my diary

It is a reminiscence of those caring days

Of the sweet fragrance and scarlet story.

The next day when I was watering the plant

It told me in grief and repent that it was sorry

But I explained to it that its too late

It cannot bring back the lost glory.

So it wept for a day 

And then regained its position

Decided not to be a cheat in life again

It promised itself to respect vows and relation.

Dead or alive

The strange relation will always survive.

Hidden cord

                           Image: 123RF

There stands an old lady
Besides the busy stairs
Keeps her eyes closed forever
In hope to get mercy shares.

In her green torn saree
With a bowl and cane in hands
She never begs for alms
Instead prays for every passing man -

"Almighty, bless everyone
Give them strength and health
Protect them from evil forces
Keep them in abundant wealth"

Her prayers touch my heart
Every time I pass her by
I feel selfishly self-centered
Ashamed of answering 'WHY?'

The chinks of coins in bowl
Consolidate her faith in God
And she repeats her prayers
With gratitude for her reward.

I wonder what keeps her at peace
In spite of dark destitution
Her speedily senescing years
Reminds me of this short life's mission -

Someday we will turn this world
Into a serene state of Utopia
Every emotion will be respected
In the garden of loving idea.

My egocentric thoughts are crushed
Under the wheels of my own emotions
Source of my belief is this old lady
Her prayers deepen the Faith Ocean!

And then I wonder how God plays his dice
In the dark rooms of unpredictability
Stitch a web of mystery for us
Making us move towards certainty.

The often I remember her prayers
The more I try to seek truth
The more I try to find way out
The more I get caught in loop.

But how strange it seems at times
When I think of old lady's life
Why do I feel she has attained the truth
And its me who has lost in strife?

Is my mind disoriented in thoughts
Of being in either selfish or selfless state?
Why do I feel like a fool before her
Like an ignorant blind bound to fate?

It is God's will as I reckon
His mysteries are not for masses to understand
His messengers are around us everywhere
His words are their final command.

Now I know why she is at peace
What makes her only to remember Lord
She is one of his emissaries
Here to strike a hearty cord -

"Life in true sense is a sojourn
Where we must be thankful to the host
Live amicably with gratitude to the Supreme
Till our boats reach the final coast."

Mother

[IMG: simplyquiet]

Mother

Who is she?

 the first one to wake up and last one to sleep in the house

because she is the unofficial custodian.
the one who feeds her family first even when she herself is famished

because the act of feeding her family is her favourite food.
 the one who eats all left over even when she is fully satiated

because she thinks food should not be wasted.
 the one who cleans house not because it’s a daily chore but

because she wants God to dwell in her house.
 the one who understands every person and adjusts accordingly

because she really can.
 the one who bears all physical pain and never utter a word

because she thinks - ‘this too shall pass’.
 the one who makes you believe that life is beautiful even when she has no penny left

because she wants only peace to reside in your mind.
 the one who stays awake whole night besides your bed when you are sick

because she can heal you with her eyes and touch.
 the one who rejoices in your success

because your happiness is her only desire.
 the only one who suffers along with you when you are in pain not because you are her child but

because she is your Mother.

There is so much to motherhood that I want to write.

Strangely words confine me at this stage.

But it’s okay since some things are better left unsaid.   

Love you Maa.

I'll see you

[pixdaus]

Preoccupied sky

Roars like wild

Cloud to cloud

Overlap loud.

The cold rain 

Canvas droplets

Falling in code

On wet road

A white streak

Is door ajar

Leads way

Where constellations lay.

Black to grey

To red to yellow

Steady gait

Nonperturbing state

In green fields

Amongst red roses dew

After the rain 

I'll see you.

Pure Bliss

Like a Streak of Lightening

Which dazzles the Clouds,

Like the Colours of Feathers

Which make Peacocks proud, 

Like a Faint Rainbow

Diffusing through invisible Air,

Like the Greenery of a Garden

Which the Plant Kingdom share,

Like Crystal Clear Water

Colouring the BLUE PLANET,

Like the setting Sun

Reflecting its tempting Scarlet,

Like the Steady Mountains

Echoing the Cosmic Sound,

Like the Soft Snow

Cooling the Space around,

Like a Giant Leap in the Ocean

Which the Great Whites take, 

Like a Nest for the young ones

Which their Mothers make,

Like the Racing Winds

Spreading the fragrance,

Like the Eyes of a Cow

Filled with Peace and Silence,

Like the Secret of Astronomy,

To Mysteries it gives birth,

Like the Cleansing Rain

Which soothes the Earth,

My LOVE for them is like all of them,

It’s Varied, Immense and Natural for sure,

Uniting with Eternal Forces,

It’s Beautiful, Tranquil and Pure.

Random thoughts

IMG: weheartit

Science gives us fundamental, rational and logical evidence to every action, subject and concept. It throws light on details which are intricately woven into the fabric of mystery. It helps us push forward the frontiers of our knowledge which in turn prove to be beneficial for our progress. Moreover science helps us understand life. I would not hesitate here to say that we can draw parallels to scientific theories and philosophical theories, the abstractness and the ideas. What I mean by this is, we can explain philosophical idea with scientific evidence and add to this, philosophy can help in explaining fundamental scientific concepts. I will explain. I just need few moments of patient audience.

Suppose you are travelling in a train with hundred others. You have in your mind a thought of performing your day’s work efficiently, coming back home and relaxing with your family. We all have more or less same concerns. In a compartment of hundred others how many do you think will be having similar generalized to-do list for the day? All of them or at least a majority of them. So don’t you think that for the time you are in that compartment, you are sharing a bond of commonness with your fellow commuters? So also, you share a bond with the person driving the train. For random timings, the commuters are on a parallel level with the driver and with each other, sharing bonds. For that short interval, you all are together, your lives are interlinked and there is an overlap between your invisible sphere and sphere of other fellow beings.   

All these bonds are temporary. They do not last long. No sooner do you get down on the platform than your bonds break and it does not end there. You make space for new bonds to form. This way in a single day you are incessantly making and breaking unseen bonds of commonness, anonymity, dreams, aspirations, etc.  

Does that cue you something in science or to be specific in chemistry? There you are. The word is – van der Waal force or may be hydrogen bonding. Think of water. How many hydrogen bonds does it form and break in fraction of a second?

When two uncharged atoms are brought very close together, their surrounding electron clouds influence each other. Random variations in the positions of the electrons around one nucleus may create a transient opposite electric dipole in the nearby atom. The two dipoles weakly attract each other bringing two nuclei closer. These weak attractions are called van der Waals interactions.

Back from chemistry lab. We are but molecules in this open system called – World, continually undergoing invisible bonding with each other. So in this way an idea can be supported by science and science in turn can be supported by an idea. I see them both as the two lines of a railway track – similar and parallel but never converging. One supports the other and the other in turn supports his supporter!

Much similar to ‘symbiosis’ - a concept of in biology – living together of unlike organisms!  

This is the fantasy of studying fundamental science. It provides me a perfect reason to back my thinking. It provides a way to get closer to life. 

I so love it! 

Beauty Within

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I am changing.

I am changing for the best.

I feel that optimism in me.

I feel that faith in my thoughts.

I feel I have it already.

I am tuning into to the best frequencies.

I am listening to the response sent back.

I am getting what I want. 

I will get more of what I want.

I have seen the bright life.

I am getting the brightest of them all.

I am changing.

I am changing for best.

To You,

“Follow your dreams and your dreams will follow you!”  

-          Paulo Coelho

I know you can’t think any other inspirational quote when you think about life and I also know that you can’t think about any other author when you muse on your dreams. And that is why I quoted him at the very start of this letter. If I were to ask you how your life has been since you first learned to learn what life is, what will be your answer? Will you be really comfortable facing the truth of past? The answer is No. It’s because your childhood has been too good to have thought about all the overtly glaring miseries of life. But you did start understanding life as you started growing up. You were 15 then. It was the time of metamorphosis. You were no longer your own old self. Your dreams rapidly transformed and your words rapidly changed. But unfortunately it didn’t reflect upon your actions much! This was five steps forward but two steps backward walk. Although these years did lessen that transformed beauty, it didn’t change even a bit of the desire to fly high.

There was a period of hibernation in your life. You were in your lowest forms where your mind ate you up every day for not having given a least try. This was the time of increased randomness when you were for sometime trapped in your own limits and your inner soul thirsted for that freedom. Your hypocritical rationale nearly extinguished that burning fire. And so it was the time for an involuntary movement in the direction where the wind was blowing. It was a period of conventionalism. There are times in everybody’s life when they question themselves whether this is what they really want to do, whether the path they have chosen is the right path, whether they are really following what they have dreamed of and whether they are doing enough to achieve it. You too have questioned your self on several occasions, more than a hundred times, when you were stuck with the conventional. You have questioned yourself whether what you are doing will bring any change in the world or will really make someone’s life better or make someone happier for what he/she is or whether your work and efforts will really make a difference. You keep looking deep and as much deeper as you can. You analyze every little speck of your thought, every idea crossing your mind. And it is now when this contemplation has got you standing at this stage requiring you of the sacrifice. I know you are brave enough for that, for a sacrifice is nothing but a firm belief in your faiths, yourself and in Almighty.  

And here you are today with a revived spirit and a fresh mind. It’s never too late to follow what you believe in. You might not get what you desire but at least your conscience will not eat you up for not having tried. I wrote this letter in recognition of your decision to brave the storm. Power to you!

“Only mediocrity is safe. Take your risks and be the best!”

-          Paulo Coelho

From

Your own free Soul.

A retrospect

Lolloping around with friends, cousins and sometimes strangers of same age as mine, childhood was bliss. I dearly miss those fun filled light days when there were only 3 activities – eating, sleeping and playing, only 2 known essentials - masti and dosti and only 1 intense interest – cartoons!

IMG: Compulsive dreamer

 For hours together, I played with other jumping jacks at our second only home – the play ground. Soil was an open board on which we would write each other’s name, monochrome clay with which we built the castles, a scented element during the first rain and (at times) a delicious tidbit too, while the grass was a cushion, a bed to roll over, a racing track to run wildly on and a place loved by all. Hours we spent shouting and screaming, singing and dancing, chasing and running and pausing at intervals, gasping and declaring the chosen word – ‘tamplese’!

IMG: turbophoto

 Days were simply days, there were no weekdays or any weekends. Time was one continuous stretch, a changing yet constant entity. The sunlight was never scorching nor was the night too dark for a game with group of friends. The call for the day was the call of my mother asking me to return home for a lovely hot supper. Till that time we know nothing of the world as we are too engrossed in our little world of lappa-chupi, pakda-pakdi and jhula.

IMG: thermodern

 Some evenings were spent cycling around the trees while others were spent chasing the colourful butterflies, catching the delicate helicopters and annoying the serene grasshoppers. There was not a single concern to disturb our play time. Although there was one big intermission (of about 5 mins) where we all stood randomly with a glass in hand waiting impatiently to drink water. Ahh! What a long relief from intense activity!!

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 Songs we sang were those of the ‘fire in the mountains....’ and ‘who stole the cookies...’. There was still longer list of others including ‘captain planet……he’s the hero’, ‘flint stones….the modern Stone Age family…’, ‘jungle jungle baat chali…’, ‘sabse nirala sabse anokha mera Disney hour….’. If you say – playing is the first life of a child, then you will unanimously agree to the fact that – cartoons is the second. It was as if there was only one channel on the television and our eyes and ears, intently watching and listening, would be shut to the rest of the world.

IMG: suite101

School was a routine where we were forgetful, reluctant, naughty and cranky. While teachers were respected and also feared when the homework was not done, the Principal was a person holding the highest position ever know to us.

IMG: Lafayette

We were aware of only our little world and hence everything around was our possession! And how proudly we declared them – my pencil, my water-bottle, my school, my house, my mom, my dad! It was towards mom that we ran for every little and silly thing. It was her lap which was the most comfortable couch and kiss on our cheeks which we well deserved. While mom was the most beautiful woman, dad was the most strongest. His arms and shoulders were of steel as we would witness him easily break open the lids of the tins and jars. All we expected from him was a pat on our back exclaiming good girl/boy.

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We were so full of life yet unaware about the treasure of joy that we had. It was the ignorance of our ignorance. And that was the sole reason for our happiness as some one has rightly said – IGNORANCE IS BLISS. Indeed blissful we were in the days of our childhood. If only we could rewind the time and breathe life into the child in us….

IMG: inetgiant

(I want every child to enjoy his/her childhood the way I did, but unfortunately.....) 

Interior wings

IMG: weheartit

A voice I hear

Comes into being

A voice without a form

Calls from deep within

A call I hear

When I drench in the rain

When I flow with wind

When I laugh in pain

 A dream I dream

In core silent night

Day, I see omens

Truth fills the light

Subtle nuance I feel

Dwells in my smile

A shade of beauty

Infantile, puerile, juvenile

A fire in me

Ignites my soul

Cites my wishes

Reigns new role

A voice, a call

A nuance, a fire

Elements all are

Of my wish my desire

Nor in my heart

Neither in mind it hides

But in my every biomolecule

It resides.

Turn right Turn strong

When much needed, the words don’t reach,

When time runs out, thoughts disband,

Decisions shilly-shally on their own,

Leaving in clutter warm mind’s home.

Do you realize you are in a trap?

Illusion grips your distressed soul,

What you wanted is now your enemy,

Deriding your unfounded feelings of envy.

Gushes through your throat, rough anger,

Strangely silencing your outcry,

Unaided you stand repenting the waste,

Powerless, feeble, vulnerable, helpless.

You are sans speech,

You are sans peace,

You are sans love,

You are sans yourself.

It is now when you need someone,

Strongest and most Stable,

To cordon your distortions,

To tame the evil foundations.

When I face such situation,

To that Strongest and most Stable I turn,

A few basic questions I ask,

And brace myself for a new task.

Task is to brave the odds on way,

With only weapons in my hands,

Patience and perseverance they identify,

As my determination touch the sky.

Of the result, then I am not worried,

In serene ambience resides my heart,

Solutions are tossed upon the test,

Since You made me stronger, O Strongest!

Sleep-mode

(IMG: Fotosearch) 

You are writing a section which is being dictated by someone standing at a few yards from you. Your nap chemicals are having a day out in your body. It is just at the moment of their freedom that you realize your entry into the semi-sleep mode. Your hand refuses to co-ordinate with your brain or rather your brain fails to send active signals to your hand. When this sync gets disturbed, your on-the-verge-of-defeat conscious mind passes the NOC for the subconscious mind to take over. This subconscious mind is actually your second mind which has been playing a subordinate to the conscious or the first mind up till now. While you were busy writing what was being dictated, your second mind was singing a song much like a stereo playing some soothing track in the background while you indulge yourself in luxury. Writing some words being spoken is not any luxury of course! The second mind gains authority over the control station and executes its parlance via the hand which is galumphing around the page like a lost and dejected soul. You start writing down the song much like a Bollywood heart-broken hero lip-syncing a gloomy solo somewhere in the middle of mesmerizing landscapes. How can one ignore those heavenly holiday destinations! One word, two words, three, four....the words start pouring out of your karaoke jargon and it goes something like....... 'il be your drem il be your vish.....' Yes that's your favourite song! But the lease is only for few seconds and the conscious mind gains back the control before the threshold is crossed. This is only in the cases when you are sitting upright on a chair. Had you been lying down on the couch or bed, relaxing your ever stressed legs, the second mind would have strengthened its power to operate the control station for a longer time. Now you have before you, few artistically written words surprising you with their meaning and relation to what you were doing previously. Yes, its unimaginable!, you think, give an uncanny smile to yourself and take a sip of water before you resume the writing, asking yourself, "Did any one see what I did just now?"  :)

....

Morning was at its infancy today, when

The silk breeze, golden sun and cold land,

Gave me a treasure chest

To share with the world around -    

A hope for a better, bright and beautiful future 

A hope for days full of love, peace and care

A hope for joyous and healthy generation

A hope for a cheerful world this new year.

I share these with you

With a thought in my mind 

May you forward with grit towards your aim 

Cherishing all days you leave behind.

Jesus and child

"O Father," asks a child,
"How long can a leaf retain its greenery
It has to dry and shed one day.
How long can flowers keep their color
They have to turn black one day.
How long can a trunk remain sturdy
It has to embrace weakness one day.
How long can fruits stay sweet and juicy
They have to become stale one day."

In calm and soothing voice HE replies,
"A dust to dust rule defines,
'Life is a circle
Alternating fresh and pale.
Flowers will enjoy their fragrant dream
Just when every grey will turn green.'
And your eyes will see
The reincarnating beauty,
Oceans of joy will rise in your mind
When the transient Turning Point you find." 

Moving with all

Photo: Anders Blomqvist/Lonely Planet

This journey I take everyday
With million faces all around
Together we are still alone we feel
With myraid feelings that surround.


This journey I take everyday
A million unseen bonds I make
A bond of anonymity, fellowship, support
Bonds that randomly form and break.


This journey I take everyday
A commonness with all I share
A feeling, a dream, a desire in heart
A wish of beautiful life someday, somewhere.


This journey I take everyday
The world's progress I witness
Growth, development whatever we may name
Its all for our human race.


This journey I take everyday
How much ever trivial it may seem
Like a flowing river I move with all
In search of truth and meaning and dream.