Friday, January 30, 2015

That happiness!

Write....write..Aboli write...right!
I've been thinking of documenting this feeling of extreme happiness. About that happiness when everything around is so screwed up. But I am so mentally relaxed, in fact I am excited and just ready to freakout any given moment....at any given point in time! That happiness which makes me forget the pain! That happiness which makes my cheeks pain with the constant smiling and laughing and wondering how round my cheek are! That happiness when I listen to Mark Knopfler and John Denver. That happiness when I read and recite Maya Angelou, Sylvia Plath, Walt Whitman, Robert Frost, Dylan Thomas! That happiness when I watch SYTYCD! That happiness when I perform that beautiful introduction from Raja Shiv Chhatrapati! That happiness when I read aloud Emerson! That happiness which good language gives! That happiness of those special and awesome songs and melodies! That happiness when I drink wine and laugh out loud! That happiness when I think of absoluteness! It's more than just the feeling of happiness. It's just beyond everything. Enough to ignore this pain and useless tension!
Wonder what has happened to me! Wonder in which direction I have evolved! I never felt so happy with such little things. I never knew it could ever mean pure joy for me. And there is no reason for this to be pure joy. They are just my favourites. *Among my dearests*
Boy! I just want to freakout without any reason. Madness is liberating. Madness is freedom. Madness is happiness! That happiness! It's 02:28 am and I am happy without any solid reason!

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Stupid

Be stupid sometimes
And just feel emotions
Let them have the sane talks
You just smile back
Chase those dandelions
They will take you to new places
Jump about to see what's beyond
You will discover awesomeness
Open that small piggy bank
And spend on chocolate ice-creams
Cycle around
Be an explorer
Have your gadgets ready
Build them if you like
Dance when you discover
Sing when you are happy
Write when you are filled
Read when you are alone
Sleep at the dusk
Only to wake up again and be stupid.

That moment.

I turned back to look at you.
You held me there in that moment.
A moment longer than eternity.
Eternity of your embrace
Embrace of your gaze
Gaze calling out my name
My name in your sigh
I sighed back.
So did the wind.

Last laugh

I know why you smile when you look at me.
I know why you like to look at me.
Had I been you, I would have done the same
Because I know the reason.
Just once hold me in the rain and dance
Just once take me in your arms and sing for me
Just once make me feel stupid
Just once smile at me
And let me be in that moment with you.
Let me feel your love.
Let me fall in love.
Let me be.
Just let me be.

Friday, January 2, 2015

It's it a funny game.
You die. Then in the next beat you're Alive.
Alive with spirits flying high.
And then you want it even more.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

Dying before death

[Roll the dice with a laughing heart]

Oh long lost friend I yearn for you
Your marvellous mind was my source of inspiration
You spoke of beauty, of beauty in purpose
And rejoiced in excitement of action
Oh long lost friend I wonder where I left you
Somewhere between cities and love affair
Or some place of mindless decision
I conveniently forgot you
Locked you. Discarded you.
Now you trouble me with conflicts
The left was never right and the right always existed
Yet I walked like a fool in the midst of confusion
Blindfolded with stupidity overflowing around
I know I know I know you were my life
Without you I am just a dead man walking.

Friday, November 7, 2014

A small incident

A small incident happened this evening which triggered a series of questions within me about my nature, choices, believes, perceptions, behaviour, management skills, people skills, survival, self-deception and finally truth (which will be that which seems most appropriate after all the masks have been brought down....to put in terms of Sherlock, "Once you have ruled out the impossible, whatever remains however improbable must be true.").

I was enjoying my evening bread just when I heard an anxious knock at the door. It was Manan, my landlord's elder son, looking alarmed trying to explain me something. But he was so slow that I myself, sensing something wrong, started asking him questions like whether he met with an accident or if Tanish, his younger brother, got hurt. He said, while riding, his cycle's handle accidentally scratched another vehicle and that they were calling someone elder to pay for the damage done. So I went down to see what happened.

From what I remember, Rita Di, the house maid, was sitting on the entrance stairs screaming and apologizing at the same time on behalf of the kids. The moment I went down, one of the guys asked me if I can speak Kannad or Telugu. I said "neither" and started speaking in Hindi. They showed me the scratch on their Innova and explained me their version. Then I asked for Manan's version. Both the stories seemed pretty consistent with minor biased opinions in their defence.

Then I began explaining the guy, who probably was driving the vehicle when this incident took place. And it was all explanations which I did. I said that, for such a small scratch unintentionally done by a kid playing in his own street, they shouldn't be so adamant and demand money or ask for the repair. From their physique and clothes it was easy to guess that the vehicle wasn't theirs and that they might just be demanding money because their owner might lash out at them. That's what I actually thought.

So I tried to explain them in a very respectful yet stern manner that they should let go this silly issue. And frankly I do feel that people should ignore such trivial things. For an unfortunate happenstance like this one, where nobody had the ill-intention or was hurt, people should learn to ignore what the outcome was and focus on mistakes at both ends just so that it never happens again.

But no my dear! Welcome to India. The country of rowdy Rathors and raanti Reddys! They want money. They want to show how powerful localites they are. They want to terrorize us by calling for reinforcement and outnumbering us. They want the police to be involved because they know, being localites, they can influence the police personnels too. More than anything else, on a much deeper level, they want a sense of victory. A sense which will make them feel righteously powerful. And they will never miss a chance for that.

Soon the other tenants, both girls (media students...worth mentioning here) arrived near the gates and asked what had happened. I explained them in brief and within no time there was a huge ruckus with both girls shouting and screaming on the top of their voices at those two guys. I sighed at my incapacity to calm them down. Actually, the moment I saw those two girls I realised that they will incite the guys to fight more vehemently. And that is exactly what happened.

Looking at the level of shouting and screaming out pointless arguments, I took a step back for few moments. Well there was nothing else I could have done. Given my soft, less talkative, non-aggressive nature I thought it's best not to speak in between. And what happened for the next few minutes was, I feel, totally unnecessary and pointless. The way these girls dominated by raising their voices and giving arguments seemed a little too much for the kind of issue we were facing.

I am not supporting or discrediting any side on their opinions and efforts. I don't want to state or analyse who was right or wrong. I am just pointing out at the way we are wired to always dominate. Kyriarchy. That's what I experienced today. In this case, by taking advantage of the child's mistake, the two guys wanted to believe that they have the capacity to beat us down, that they are above some individuals (at least in some situations), that they are on the 'right' side and so in their conditioned believes, want justice to be done.

On the other were these two girls. With a thought of 'being media students', they lashed out at the boys in loud voices. These girls had their own reasons for domination. There seemed a blatant belief in them that they can handle any situation by just being a strong woman....which is not false. Education and a masters degree obviously provided an edge and a reason to dominate.

Kyriarchy was the invisible symphony in the background.

These guys, stay somewhere on the next cross road. A few meters away from our house. Behaving in this fashion clearly indicates how we have evolved as a society of disconnected neighbours. Also, I want to point out how we end up being under control of things which we possess. Any small damage to a personal property is enough to blow off the lids of sensibility and logic and let's also say - ethics. In the heated argument exchange which was happening, a very funny line was being thrown by each of the parties - "Being educated, you should know how to behave." I was more than amused. :P

Well, a lot happened. One neighbour tried to be a patient listener to the guy who could only speak the local language. One delivery boy stopped with his vehicle just to enjoy the chaos. I saw a man's silhouette on the terrace of a building diagonally opposite to our house. The inquisitive passer-bys slowed their pace. Girls were shouting in their high-pitched feminine voices. The guys responded roughly and disrespectfully. Manan and Tanish were quiet with fright, Rita Di was apologising and I was wondering why it had to explode this way! The scene was intense.

Bhaiya, bhabhi, Manan's parent's were on their way. We were waiting for them. But it so happened that those guys decided to let go off the issue and vanished from the place few seconds before bhaiya, bhabhi arrived. The two girls started explaining bhaiya bhabhi what those guys had been saying and what replies these girls had been giving. One of the girls said how calmly I tried to explain those guys. But the moment she said that, bhabhi said "isse toh nahi hoga". Meaning, I couldn't have made them run away on my own. I laughed at that moment. Came back to my room and started wondering about my nature, choices, believes, perceptions, behaviour, management skills, people skills, survival, self-deception and finally truth.

The truth is I am not aggressive by nature. I make my choice to behave systematically in such situations. I believe it was a trivial issue which was not worth investing so much energy. I try to perceive logic, sense and rationality. So, I behave like a sensible human. My management or people skills may not be very good. But I think I can survive without them. Now comes the question of self-deception. Hmm... Too personal to write about. I will end it here.

Monday, October 20, 2014

One day the sky will be lit
not by the sun or moon
but by the fire in me.

Sunday, October 19, 2014

Phenomenal woman that's she

Those nights when only ticking is heard
and every flesh is dormant in concrete 
there's a strange woman who appears
and places herself just besides me.
She glides her soft fingers over my neck
and gently whispers her melody
her voice enters my blood and face
her language my tongue speaks.
In that deep, feminine, seductive voice
the words erupt from my mouth
the words of agony, jocund shouts
the words of midnight bell too loud.
Every night, her footsteps are heard
I welcome the woman with open arms
and she brings a new poetry each time
which she makes me read aloud!
Then she smoothly ships me to dark
As the blue jazz plays in the background
And this I hear just before I go
"You're the angel of the town!"

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

You

If there is thought or emptiness,
a feeling or confusion,
a fact or principle,
there is You.
If I could free my fancy
I'd disturb you
I'd laugh with you
I'd never hold back
just because
there is You.
If I leave
you will be there again
somewhere in togetherness
or in the hidings.
I'll see you
in my labyrinth.

Friday, October 10, 2014

even if I dance you will not know
wish silence could explain
me.
And then again the tears...they fall
those songs...I can feel you in them
guess you were the only...

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Blue

A symphony on the horizon
The notes in the breeze
Some stuck in the rose petals
Others flew to me
Clouds walked 
Dew drops settled
On my pale blue skin
Moist and cold

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

A walk to remember

On my way to the water cooler, I often watch myself walk to the water cooler. I see that grim face, like it has always been since childhood, trying to de-tangle some hazy stubborn knot in the mesh of thoughts; that loneliness whom I call to walk besides me so that I don't look stupid; that shyness hidden in resoluteness of countenance, showing the wise my hypocrisy and the dumb my attitude; that pain inside which keeps pumping through my veins, blocking my capillaries, reddening my fingertips; those slow-fast steps like electrocardiograph of a lier set up on lie detector and that play of whispers and screams inaudible to the human ear. I see them all present an extravagantly exhilarating performance deserving everybody's attention. But sadly, no one but me can see it. No one but me can feel it. No one but me knows how to appreciate it. But there are some who come rushing to me and enter my secret library to register themselves where they get a permanent residence. I see the welcoming warmth in my eyes when they shut down for few seconds. And as I approach closer to the water cooler, the effect seems to magnify in reverse order. Then there is the flow of the water down my throat, the push of my shoulder against wall, the long sigh of quenched thirst, the cold numb eyes and those million tiny electrical pulses in my brain fusing off to darkness. That's when I love myself the most.

Saturday, October 4, 2014

Beast of burden

I'm living under a burden cast upon me ruthlessly by my religion, that religion which claims itself to be the most ancient of all, the source of everything from the tiny dust speck to the gigantic stars and planets, everything earthly and cosmic.
Then there's another hero which is much more malevolent and vicious than the previous dude, and that's - the society boiling with the heat of evil thoughts, capable of destroying the dearest and most personal possession, a man's integrity.
My own ideals are no less a devil, for torturing every inch of me, electrocuting my brain bit by bit, every night when I retire to bed, like a skilled master working his way to perfection in the lonely hours with just a single tool - heat, high enough for brain damage.
And I walk with these three ghosts on my shoulders, guffawing at each faltering step I take. But it's a choice I make to carry them everyday without any purpose. I am a beast of burden but why do I not pity the poor donkey on the rocks or the camel on the sand?

Friday, September 19, 2014

Down hill roll

Do I feel or do I get stoned?
Do I appreciate or do I mock?
Should the warmth be my creation?
Or should I just play plain?
My honesty is welcoming
My smile is endearing
But sometimes the rocks appear on my bed
They are heavy. But they are pretty too.
They are my source of strength. Huhh!
o~ the outward strength on z-axis.
Ask me about the Aurora Borealis,
I will fix you a bread and olive oil
Put me in a dancing machine
I will read my thighs, palms and bare feet
Play is all I know. The game of filth.
Around the lesser mortal and the lesser mortals.

Monday, September 15, 2014

It's I

It's I and you know I will be there.
You don't have to ask me
I understand your troubles
I'm moved not by your sorrow but by the strength you show
You surely need me. I can see it in your eyes.
I'm your mother
I'm your dearest friend
I'm love which smiles at your silliness
I'm peace which waits for you
I'm your comfort
I'll caress your hair
I'll hold you close to my breast
I'll hug you to sleep
I'll kiss you good night
And watch you dream peacefully
My child....
I'll be there no matter what!

Friday, September 5, 2014

Guest at my own home

As I stood at the main gate of my building watching the procession of Ganapati Bappa on 7th day of the festival of devotion, my smile did not, for even a second, feel shy of the large crowd of young boys dancing, playing dhol and taal, the elder ones managing the crowd and traffic, ladies praying for the last time to Bappa who was being taken to lake for visarjan in grandiose trucks adorned with flowers, leaves, balloons  and all the fancy glittering items. There. The kid in me sprang with enthusiasm with every handful of gulaal being thrown in the air toward the dark evening sky. My unwillingness to go back home, where my mom and sister were warmly playing hosts to the guests, was the evidence of my joyous emotions. I stood right there in the center of the widely opened main-gate watching the dance, listening to those loud percussion instruments being played, wondering how I used to do the same when I was a kid and staring at those orange flags, those symbols of a culture, fight and pride. I stood there firmly as if I were reassuring myself of my roots and identity. Although I resonate the most with that vibrant festival where nobody feels shy of shouting "Ganpati Bappa, Moryaa!" there still is a sense of disconnectedness. This yearly ritual is like a mini year in itself! I had missed it for 3 consecutive years. Even when I am not here, the festival continues to be celebrated with equal pomp and show. Every five years new faces will be added to the procession dance, the regular ones will be seen -- with fat necks, cheeks and tummies, -- managing the crowds, while only few of the older crowd will be seen standing and moving slowly along with the procession and I will be unaware of all of it.....From a sincere devotee to a mere spectator, I wonder if this relegation is experienced by others as well.

Monday, August 25, 2014

One life one purpose.
Dance!

Saturday, August 16, 2014

The unknown generation

Small hands they painted
saffron, white, green, blue.
Their faces smiling tricolour..
Who are these underprivileged?
The unknown future, shouting slogans,
waving flags, placards in little hands,
unaware, bare feet on tar roads,
just marching, unaware.



Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Red pulse

I wish we had exchanged the red pulse
Mine with you and yours with me.
Holding it on the platform
Where trains pass by every second minute
Neither one batting an eyelid!
I'd ask you to build
From the rouge and wood
Where the winds bring melodies
Where the sky's streaked green
Look up. It's your home.
A home of anonymity and joy.
As we stop by the gazebo in backyard
Hold me close lest I'm might hibernate
Forever.