Pratibimbh

किताबें

2011-12-31T22:25:00.002+05:30

A friend, a foe, a teacher, a traveller

What role does it not play?
With each word
On each page
Moulding a bond with you
And welding it strong as the covers are closed.

Such is a relation with the books
Books that we meet everyday
Books that talk. That emote.
Mysterious yet Inquisitive
Distressed yet Happy
The emotions weaving an epic

These Faces. Narrating a true story.
And as another year passes by
I continue my quest to read. Books. Faces.

ख़ामोशी का वो भयानक चेहरा

2011-11-30T22:56:00.001+05:30

नहीं कर पाई कुछ

वह भीड़ बस खड़ी रही

एक टक देखती रही

पर नहीं कर पाई कुछ

एक आवाज़ उठी थी कहीं से

पर डर के धार ने चीर के रख दिया उसे

उठे थे कुछ सर

कई हाथों ने हल्ला भी बोलना चाहा

काट के गिरा दिए गए ज़मीन पर

कोई नहीं आया बचाने उन्हें

किसी ने नहीं बढ़ाये अपने कदम

मनो कोई तमाशा देख रहे हों

खून टपक रहा था कटे हुए गर्दनो से

मनो की लोग सिक्कों की बौछार कर रहे हों

तमाशा हुआ ख़त्म

घर चली गयी भीड़

चैन की नींद सोने को

कल ऐक बार फिर सजेगा मंच

कल ऐक बार फिर से सिक्के बरसेंगे

Last year I had tried to render a silent conversation in my words.

ख़ामोश रहकर भी वह ख़ुशी बाँट रहे हैं

और हम...

बात करते हैं तो

लोग रोते हैं | लोग मरते हैं |

And this year, the silence has come back to haunt me, donning a different mask.

Of indifference. Of ignorance. Of fear.

A silence that watches a murder and yet be calm about it.

A silence that pierces the soul. Murders it. Buries it deep.

Now I yearn for a voice amidst this deafening silence.

ख़ामोशी से डर लगता है अब |

The Travel Through Time

2011-10-31T23:57:00.001+05:30

Nida Fazli once said

बहुत मुश्किल है बंजारा मिज़ाजी, सलीका चाहिए आवारगी में!

I decided to go on a journey on that path.

Tending to randomness. Tending to insanity. Tending to the within.

From catching a rare event of lights at Shaniwada fort to taking a lift to cross a lake, on an unusual vehicle.

From meeting a fortune teller / face reader to some kind hearted truck drivers.

From having breakfast at a road side taphri at 6 in the morning to being invited to the native's place for evening tea.

A journey with no plans.

Just Ideas. Old Friends. New People.

A journey to within.

A travel through time.

Inspired

2011-09-30T22:50:00.000+05:30

Sitting at the beach

looking at people

Trying to absorb some happiness

Trying to look for some inspiration

It seems to be all around

but still trying to evade me

Earlier I used to come here with a smile

A smile for the kids playing

A smile for the hawkers

A smile for the love struck ones

A smile for the sand

But now the water does not speak to me

The way it used to

Do not know what is amiss

Everything still seems the same

The sand the sea the people

Probably I am looking at the wrong place

Probably am looking through the wrong lens

She is calling me to sing to her

The sea is calling me to capture, frame her

And again I walk on the sand

with a lens in my hand

A picture in my eyes

A thought so pristine

And a dream so grand

ऐक जवाब

2011-08-31T20:52:00.000+05:30

अकसर जब कोई सवाल सताता है
मैं समरदार की ओर चल पड़ता हूँ
शायद सोचकर मेरे सवालों के जवाब देंगी ये लहरें
या कोई तोह रह दिखा देंगी ये लहरें
असल में कभी गौर ही नहीं किया

पर पिछले हफ्ते यूँ ही निकल पड़ा इन लहरों की ओर
सवाल उलझे हुए थे कुछ
लहरों के शोर में ऐक जवाब खोज रहा था
कोशिश तो बहुत कर रही थीं वह लहरें कुछ कहने को
पर मैं ही उनकी डोर नहीं पकड़ पा रहा था
चल तो रहा था पर बस पैरों के निशान दिख रहे थे
जवाब नहीं मिल रहा था

बहुत देर रहा बहुत दूर चला मैं
अब पांव भी कह रहे थे की लौट पड़ो तुम
पीछे मुदा तो देखा
लहरों ने सारे निशान मिटा दिए थे
और कोरा रेत साफ़ चमक रहा था
शायद मुझे जवाब मिल चूका था

लोग अक्सर आते हैं यहाँ अपनी उलझनें लेकर
पर देखो, समंदर की ऐक लहर काफी होती है
उनके पैरों के निशाँ मिटा देने के लिए

खौफ़ की वह रात

2011-07-31T02:05:00.002+05:30

डर से चुप थीं सडकें
चुप थे लोग और खामोश थीं आखें
आवाजें सुनाई दे रही थी तो बस television से
Breaking news जो मिल गया था उन्हें
आवाजें सुनाई दे रही थी तोह बस बादलों की
कड़कराहट से लोगों में जिंदा रहने का एहेसास जगाना
कड़कराहट से उन लोगों को जगाना
जो सो रहे थे या मुर्दा लाशों को देख रहे थे

बरसात की ही शाम थी वो
आसमान ने सूरज को परदे में धक् लिया था कहीं
खून बरस रहा था आसमां से
और ज़मीन आग के गोले उढ़ेल रही थी

धरती नम हो गयी थी उस शाम खून से
और लाशें ऐसी बिखरी पड़ी हों जैसी की कीचड

सो नहीं पाया था उस रात कोई
चाँद भी उस रात बादलों के पीछे खामोश खड़ा सब देख रहा था
खामोश थी आखें और चुप थे लोग
डर से सडकें भी चुप थी सारी

भीगा था मैं भी उस बरसात में
खेलीं थी मुझ पर भी वह बूँदें

कहो तो, कभी लहू को पानी में समाते हुए देखा है तुमने?

That night, blood had dissolved in the rain
That night, the streets were silent with fear
Silent were the people and mum were the eyes

That night, it had rained blood
And the earth had been breathing flames

Where were you that night when the blood mixed with the water?

लहू में नाहाई वह बूँदें

2011-06-27T01:19:00.000+05:30

साल की पहली बारिश
बूँदें कल गिरी थीं सुर्ख ज़मीन पर
समा सी गयी थीं जैसे वह बूँदें ज़मीन में
सुकून मिला था धरती को कल
अरसों बाद प्यास जो बुझी थी

भीगा तो मैं भी था इस बरसात में
खेलीं थी मुझ पर भी वह बूँदें
आ गिरे थे सपनों पर, जो झुलस रहे थे अब तक
धुल सा गया था मैं
और घुल सा गया था खून इन बूंदों में

कभी लहू को पानी में समाते हुए देखा है तुमने?

Have you ever let the droplets play their music on your soul?

Have you ever come out of the cozy shelter or your umbrella?

Have you ever let the drops pour life in your burning dreams?

Felt the rain so closely that you can see your blood getting absorbed in the rain?

खुशियों से डर लगता है

2011-05-31T23:53:00.003+05:30

तरसता हूँ मैं
उसे पाने को
छु सकूँ ऐक बार इन्हें
पास आयें तोह कस के जाकड़ लूँ बाहों में
इन खुशिओं को

तरसता हूँ मैं
जब देखता हूँ चारों ओर
तितलिओं सी उड़तीं रहतीं हैं ये
पास आयें तो मुट्ठियों में बंद कर लूँ
इन खुशिओं को

और ऐक दिन आ ही गयीं मेरे करीब
वह तितलियाँ
एक उडती हुई आ बैठी मेरी उँगलियों पर
फर फडाते हुए परों से जैसे कह रहीं हो
क्या हुआ? इतने खामोश क्यों हो?

और अगले हवा के झोको के साथ उड़ चलीं
मन में हजारों ख्याल छोड़े
हजारों अधूरे ख्वाब तोड़े
और कुछ अरमान लिए

और मैं बस देखता रहा उनकी उर
डरा सहमा सा

बड़ी नाज़ुक होती हैं ये खुशियाँ
इन कागज़ की तितलियों की तरह
टूट के कब बिखर जाएँ पल भर में

बड़ी कमज़ोर होती हैं ये खुशियाँ
एक पल रहती हैं साथ
और दुसरे पल दे जाते हैं दर्द
दे जाते हैं घाव ज़िन्दगी भर के

सच बताऊ?
आज कल खुशियों से दर सा लगता है बहुत

I have always yearned for happy moments. But most of the times, the feeling has been short lived.

Because the moments are like paper butterflies, break easily with the wind.

Leaving behind shards of broken thoughts, hopes and dreams.

Happiness is quite perilous.

खुशियों से डर लगता है |

The story of Colours

2011-04-30T16:49:00.001+05:30

One evening at the beach I saw

Swirling in the wind
Like butterflies
A million pieces of paper
Each narrating a story

The blue one spoke of the clear skies
Where one would just fly away
Without a care in the world
Where one would be bound just by the imagination
Without the fear of the unknown

The red one spoke of courage
Where one would walk with one's head held high
In a world of freedom
Where one would not be afraid to fight for the light
In a world of darkness

The colour Yellow brightened up in the sunlight
Spreading the warmth and joy all around
Embracing the present
Illuminating the future
With rays of Hope cutting through the suffering

Green spake of growth
Making a new start when all had been lost
Of life in an otherwise barren land
In a world with no looking back
Of a beginning from a dismal end

Orange made me a promise
Of another sunny day
To come back again
After the ephemeral sunset

As I buried my fingers in the sand
And looked out to the horizon
I could see the vanes
Swirling in the wind
Mixing the colours of life in a single palette

I see them now
Bleeding into my life.
In an otherwise black and white life.

तलाश

2011-03-31T20:04:00.001+05:30

उड़ तो मैं चला हूँ

ना जाने किस मंजिल की उर

ना जाने किस रह पे हूँ मैं

कई चेहरे मिले

और कई और नामों से मुलाक़ात हुई

पर तलाश है अभी भी

निकल तो पड़ा हूँ मैं

छोड़ कर अपना घर

छोड़ कर यारों की महफ़िल

कई अपने मिले

और कई और पराये भी

पर तलाश है अभी भी

तलाशता हूँ एक ख्वाब

तलाशता हूँ वह मंज़र

तलाशता हु वह साहिल

उस इन्द्रधनुष को पा लू तो सही

और मिल जाये तो कह सकूँ

यार! तलाश है अभी भी

Anyone knows the story of the Dog which never ceased to chase the rainbow? He travelled fathomless oceans and the sailed into the uncharted skies. With just one thing on his mind: The rainbow. It was like a crazy itch that he had to scratch. Just was not able to reach it. He travelled all across the universe to find a way to fulfil this dream. A cure for the Itch. Consulted many Saints and Sinner in the process.

Impressed by his audacity, the universe granted him a magical wish which would enable him to touch the rainbow.

This disheartened him. And shunning everything he set sail to chase another dream.

In my journeys, I have come across few such individuals who carry this itch.

But they are not looking for the cure.

और मिल जाये तो कह सकूँ

यार! तलाश है अभी भी

Like the dog who never ceased to chase the rainbow

यार! तलाश है मुझे अभी भी...

Ek Kathputli

2011-02-28T00:49:00.001+05:30

बुढ़ा सा एक शक्श
आखों में लगे थे चश्मे
सर पर एक सफ़ेद सी टोपी
और लिपटी हुई थी एक मफलर गले से
झोला टंगा था एक काँधे से
और हात में थे हम

हम
काठ के कुछ पुतले
रोते बिलकते हम
उसकी पोटली भर दुनिया में
दुनियादारी करते हम
लड़ते झगड़ते हम

अचानक एक छोटे बच्चे ने उसका रस्ता रोक लिया
और पुतले की तरफ इशारा करते हुए पुचा
"अंकल, कितने की है ये कटपुतली?"

जवाब आज भी याद है मुझे
"तुम्हारी एक मुस्कान से महेंगी नहीं है ये कटपुतली!"

A few weeks back, on one of my trips in pursuit of the time travellers, I had an opportune meeting with the Puppet Master. With a bag full of puppets, he was selling happiness, at a mere price of a smile. Strange these time travellers are. Give life a new meaning each time I meet them.

Dreams and a Diary

2011-01-30T23:26:00.001+05:30

Over the past few weeks, I have been travelling, meeting a lot of new people...time travellers, as I like to call them. Different people. Different Stories. A story of a person waiting to meet his daughter after a long gap of 7 years. While another of an airport worker with gleaming eyes planning to make it big on the silver screen.

A boy, selling soap bubbles. Blowing bubbles in the wind. Creating a bollywood styled dream sequence right on the beach. He had come to the town with a dream in his eyes and a diary in his hands. A diary of songs he was penned down. And a dream to become the next Gulzar. You ask him his name and gives you a reply in the form of a verse. And again goes back to job of creating a dream on the beach. People can't help but smile.

This reminds me of the beautiful nazm by Gulzar!

आदमी बुलबुला है पानी का
और पानी की बहती सतह पर

टूटता भी है, डूबता भी है
फिर उभरता है, फिर से बहता है

ना समंदर निगल सका इसको
ना तारीख़ तोर पायी है

वक़्त की मौज पर सदा बहता
आदमी बुलबुला है पानी का

We are like these bubbles of water, dissolving just to emerge again. Neither the world nor time as been able to stop us.

We have been travelling through time with dreams in our eyes and the verse of our lives on our lips.

We. The time travellers.

Time Travel

2010-12-31T23:56:00.003+05:30

Churchgate to Grant Road
Bandra to Juhu
Andheri to Dadar
Park Street to Rabindra Sadan
Writer's Building to Bow Bazaar

I walk. I see places. I see people. I see faces.
My new passion. Capturing all these. Etching them on my memories.
As I start this new series, naming it Time Travel, I put before you the time that passed by my eyes. Expressing time with pictures and a thousand words. Words. Giving the time its words.
I put before you the stories of the time travelers.

Bon Voyage.

Uninspired

2010-11-30T23:42:00.001+05:30

सोच रहा हु
कि सोच की स्याही में
लिख डालूं सब ख्याल मन के
पर दिखता है तो सिर्फ अँधेरा
और बीच बीच में बिजली का कड़कना

खिड़की खोल के देखा
छम छम बारिश की बूँदें खिड़की की सिलो पे नाच रही थीं
अरे, यह क्या! कैलेंडर पे नज़र डाला
नवम्बर का ही महिना था
आसमान पे बादल घिरे हुए थे
और मन सुन्न हुआ चला था

Its raining like it should when winter is standing knocking at the door. In these times, while everyone is busy searching for a shelter to avoid the untimely rains I am looking out for inspirations. For putting down words on the paper. For laughing. For going to sleep. For waking up. Heck, I am looking for an inspiration even to have a thought. Much have I read about the state of thoughtlessness, the state where the mind is totally blank, void of any thoughts. And now as it hits me, I know how it feels first hand. And no song no music, no...no words can bring them back to life.
So what do I do for this? I set out on an unplanned trip to a land people call the place of infinite muses. I listen to music. I talk to new people. I make new friends. I even spend a few evenings wandering. Wandering aimlessly. For hours. Looking for an inspiration. But it escapes me every time. As this famous Guns & Roses goes,

Do you need some time...on your own
Do you need some time...all alone
Everybody needs some time...on their own
Don't you know you need some time...all alone
I know it's hard to keep an open heart
When even friends seem out to harm you
But if you could heal a broken heart
Wouldn't time be out to charm you

And as I look out for it in the words I write I just see meaningless congregation of characters, put together like an anomaly! Like the November Rain! At peace. But uninspired.

ख़ामोशी

2010-10-24T05:08:00.000+05:30

मेरी ट्रेन बांद्रा पे आकर रुकी थी

स्टेशन पर मैंने फिर उन दोनों को देखा

रोज़ देखता हूँ

अगले प्लेटफ़ॉर्म पर चर्चगेट फास्ट का इंतज़ार करते हैं दोनों

किसी कॉलेज के छात्र हैं शायद.

सीढ़ी के पास वाले बेंच पर बैठकर

भीड़ से अनजान दोनों

एक दुसरे के बातों में उलझे रहते हैं

किस्से कहानियां हसना हँसाना

रोज़ देखता हूँ

मेरी ट्रेन बांद्रा पे आके रुकी थी

सिग्नल नहीं मिला था आज

स्टेशन पर मैंने फिर उन दोनों को देखा

रोज़ देखता हूँ

अगले प्लेटफ़ॉर्म पे बेंच पर बैठे थे दोनों

वोही भीड़ थी, जिससे दोनों अनजान थे

वही हंसी थी, वही किस्से

आज उन्हें कुछ देर तक मैं देखता रहा

वह साइन लेंगुएज का प्रयोग कर रहे थे

मेरी ट्रेन चल पड़ी

काफी देर तक सोचता रहा

खामोश रहकर भी वह ख़ुशी बाँट रहे हैं

और हम...

बात करते हैं तोह

लोग रोते हैं, लोग मरते हैं

Each day as my train halts at the Bandra station, I see two friends. Oblivious of the crowd, immersed in their own world. Laughing. Smiling. At times, Giggling.

Today my train had been at the station for a little too long. They were sitting there as usual. It was today that I saw them using sign language.

Made me think. Their disability in no way stopped them from sharing happiness.

And us with the 'gift'?

When we speak. People Cry. People Die.

एक सपना है

2010-09-26T02:47:00.001+05:30

एक सपना है, जिसे आँखों में भरे ना जाने कहाँ उड़ चला हु में
एक सपना है, जिसे देख कर पंख उग आये हैं पीठ पे

हकीकत तो कबकी बिखर चुकी है टूट कर
एक सपना है, जिसे बनाया है उन टुकड़ों को जोड़ कर

एक सपना है, जिसमे मैं उड़ने के सपने देखता हूँ
एक सपना है, जिसमे मैं सारे सपने देखता हूँ

एक सपना ही तो है, जो मेरा सपना है
एक सपना ही तो है, जिसे कहता हूँ, मेरा अपना है

अब बस एक बार आखें मूँद लूं तो चल सकूँ ज़मीन पर |

There is a Dream, which takes me miles high into the sky

There is a Dream, seeing which wings have grown on my back

Reality, hah! It has been shatterred for long

There is a Dream, I have created from those broken shards

There is a Dream, in which I Dream of touching the Sky

There is a Dream, in which I Dream all my dreams

This is the dream, which I have been dreaming

This is the dream, which I call my own

Just once let me close my eyes, so that I can put my feet on the Ground!

They say that our dreams define us. They say our dreams are what we are. I too have defined myself through a dream. A dream I cherish more than the reality. A dream in which I lived a million lives. A dream in which I have died more so. A dream built from the pieces of broken reality.

A dream morphing from sobriety to insanity.

A dream. My vanity.

A dream. My Reality.

आईने में वह चेहरा

2010-08-30T00:21:00.001+05:30

सदियों तक इस आईने में मैं
किसी ना किसी को तलाशता रहा,
कभी कोई कलाकार या कोई प्रेमी,
कभी कोई विद्वान या कोई पागल.

हमेशा कोई चेहरा पाया सामने
कोई और चेहरा...
अनजान सा, उदास था,
बेचैन था, बेताब सा

एक खोखला सा ढांचा है ये चेहरा
दिन गया, चेहरा नया
नए पोशाक में, जग को हंसाया...
लोग मिलते गए, ये बदलता गया

पर आज, मैंने आइना खाली पाया
शायद आज मैंने खुद को देखा है

For ages, I have looked in the mirror,
Searching for Someone or the other,
Sometimes I met an Artist or some Lover,
Sometimes someone Wise Or someone Crazy.

I have always found a face within,
Some other face,
Unknown, was Sad,
Was Restless, Impatient.

This face is a hollow mould,
Changed as the day passes,
Changed costumes, spread happiness around,
Met people, changed colours along the way.

But today, I found the Mirror to be blank.
May be, I saw myself.

Yesterday when I looked into the mirror, I saw nothing. I was perplexed yet was relieved. Relieved to know that I finally have stopped looking for someone else within me. Relieved that I have started becoming myself again. What I am. Who I am. Relieved that the Mirror is not showing any more Mirages.

The Face in the Mirror.

Bhristi Pore, tapur tupur...

2010-07-27T23:18:00.000+05:30

Tapur. Tupur. Tapur. Tupur.
Wet Roads. Umbrellas. Full of Colour.
Cool wind flowing by. Imagine.

मौझ्वा करे क्या जाने, हमको इशारा
जाना कहाँ है पूछे, नदिया की धरा
मर्ज़ी है तुम्हारी, ले जाओ जिस और
जियरा रे झूमे रे ऐसे रे जैसे बनमा नाचे मोर

सावन का महिना, पवन करे सोर
जियरा रे झूमे ऐसे, जैसे बनमा नाचे मोर

This gorgeous and soulful melody weaved by Laxmikant Pyarelal in the words of Anand Bakshi conjure up the magic of Rains.
Rain. A weather romantics awaits. A weather which brings such incredible melodies to life. A weather which itself sings the song of life.
Just a few days back, I decided to take a walk on the Marine Drive. And it was raining heavily that evening. Raining from the heavens. O, what an evening it was. I was walking alone, but felt like someone has been walking with me on that road for ages! And this song had been reverberating in my mind!

जिनके बालम बैरी, गए हैं बिदेसवा
आये हैं लेके उनके, प्यार का संदेसवा
काली मात वारी घथाये घनघोर
जियरा रे झूमे ऐसे जैसे बनमा नाचे मोर
सावन का महिना, पवन करे सोर
जियरा रे झूमे ऐसे, जैसे बनमा नाचे मोर

It felt like deja vu. It felt like I have been there ages before. I felt lost. Yet I felt that I knew the place inside out. I could see my footsteps all over the road. The road wet with vivid memories of a similar rainy evening. The green grass. The dripping leaves. The Moist zephyr soothing the senses. I felt like I was living the imagination, the dream of some poet praising the rain through their colours.

रिम झिम गिरे सावन, सुलग सुलग जाए मन
भीगे आज इस मौसम में, लगी कैसी ये अगन

पहले भी यूं तो बरसे थे बादल,
पहले भी यूं तो भीगा था आँचल
अब के बरस क्यूँ सजन, सुलग सुलग जाए मन
भीगे आज इस मौसम में, लगी कैसी ये अगन

With Kishore Kumar singing in the background, Pancham And Yogesh stirring the heavens to pour magic, it feels that the rains have washed the soul of all the earthly dirt and left only pure love. As I kept walking through the path trodden at some point of time in history, I felt like a child. A child searching for a piece of paper. So that he can build a boat at set sail in the dreamy rain.
And how can the description of an rainy evening be complete without Gulzar. And this was another song playing that evening when I was having a walk through the lanes of my Dreams. A Lata ji song with Pancham touch to it...

अब के ना सावन बरसे,
अब के बरस तो बरसेंगी अँखियाँ

जाने कैसे आब के यह मौसम बीते
बीतेगी जो तेरे बिन,वह कब बीते
तेरे बिना सावन सुनने
तेरे बिना अब्ब तोह यह मनन तरसे

Yesterday...

2010-06-08T18:45:00.007+05:30

याद है, एक दिन मेरे मेज़ पे बैठे बैठे
सिगरेट की डिबिया पर तुमने
छोटे से एक पौधे का एक
स्केट्च बनाया था
आकर देखो, उस पर फूल आया है |

These beautiful words by Gulzar can be translated as,

"Remember, the other day while sitting at my desk,
you had sketched a tiny plant on the cigarette box,
come and see, a flower has bloomed on it"

The other day. Seems so like Yesterday. There was a time when I used to look up to that Yesterday. The past. How I used to idolize Yesterday. So much so that all my dreams resided in yesterday. I hoped that my tomorrow would resemble my yesterday. I was unaware of the lovely flower that has bloomed today. I was blind to the magic that tomorrow would unravel. And the rains changed it all. The experience of the first showers in Mumbai after a really long time has opened a whole new window for me. A window through which I can view the beauty of tomorrow. A window on whose sill I can sit and watch the rain drops soak the world in a blanket of freshness. Where I can feel the soothing zephyr take me to a world of joy. To a world where the past dissolves into a Future of the dreams. where the dreams are not hollow.

So, with the onset of rains, I took a permanent seat on this window sill. Joined a class to learn a skill. Set-up a workstation right in my room. Continuing the over-haul I had planned out last month. Continuing the change I had dreamt of. Not of yesterday. But of tomorrow.

With the hope that Tomorrow will be a better than Yesterday.

ज़रा आकर देखो तो, उस पौधे पर फूल आया है |

Refugees of the Road.

2010-05-24T22:02:00.002+05:30

आते जाते खूबसूरत आवारा सडकों पे
कभी कभी इत्तेफाक से
कितने अनजान लोग मिल जाते हैं
उन में से कुछ लोग भूल जाते हैं
कुछ याद रह जाते हैं |

While travelling through these beautiful yet nomadic roads,
Sometimes coincidentally we meet some strangers...
Some, we tend to forget, but there are some who leave an indelible mark in our lives....

These words by Anand Bakshi, beautifully sung by Kishore da talk of a profound truth of life. Of life's endless journeys. And how we meet interesting people along the way. No, they are not friends, neither are they acquaintances. But they become an important part of you life.

I have been travelling on the life-line of Mumbai everyday for about a month now. Everyday has been a new experience for me. Everyday I see new faces. Everyday a maddening rush. A peerless fury. A screeching cacophony.

In all this randomness, I have been lucky to discover a pattern. A face. A Person. Who boards the train nearly same time everyday. In the same compartment. And stands right infront of me. An occasional glance, a shared smile. This is all that is exchanged. But still the face remains what it is. A face. Probably in his late 50s. I don't know the name of the person. Neither do I know his destination. Everyday upon reaching the platform, I look for this familiar face in the crowd. And am relieved upon finding him. And this has become a routine for every day of the week. But its nothing less than a miracle. In times when it takes years or even lives to become familiar to someone, an unique friendship germinating without words, which is something that words would never be able to explain. Infact, words would take away the sanctity of the moment.

But today, as I rushed to the station to catch the Andheri 0851 Slow, I didnot find this face. Looked out for some time. Probably I was late. Probably he was. Probably he took a leave from work. Many possibilities ran through my mind till the train arrived. And my day went on. With a blip. With a glitch. But not without hopes of tomorrow. Hopes of a familiar tomorrow.

This Maddening Madness...

2010-05-15T06:08:00.002+05:30

“Aisa paagalpan nahin chalega… Yeh lyrics hain? Kal Times of India uthake le aogey aur kahoge issi pe dhun banana hain…”

This is how R. D. Burman first reacted when he read the page given to him by Gulzar. "This madness won't work...You call these lyrics?? Tomorrow you pick up the Times of India and say lets' compose a tune out of this..."

Indeed it was Madness. The Madness which gave birth to the evergreen song

'Mera Kuch Saaman, Tumhare Pass Pada Hai...' with words such as,

एक सौ सोलह चाँद की रातें, एक तुम्हारे काँधे का तिल

or probably

पतझड़ है कुछ…है ना?
पतझड़ में कुछ पत्तों के गिरने की आहात
कानों में एक बार पहन के लौट आई थी
पतझड़ की वह शाख अभी तक काँप रही है
वह शाख गिरा दो, मेरा वह सामान लौटा दो |

Just an ensemble of meaningless words...weaving such deep a meaning! Madness indeed it is.

What is this madness? For me, this madness is going to sleep at an unearthly time. And waking up even later...just to fuel the insane passion. This madness is to completely overhaul the life. This madness is to get back the person I once was. And this madness is to make the dreams real.
This Madness is trying to find meaning in this cacophony. This Madness is trying to find meaning in this silence.
It is this madness that has kept me going this long. It is this madness that has made me who I am today.
So, why do people say this insanity, this madeness is deleterious? Why do they do all in their power to curb this madness labeling them a menace to the society? And why do these 'sane' people not dream mad dreams or imagine crazy things?
It is these mad crazy things that have led to the birth of numerous ideas and subsequent tryst with reality. Be it the idea of relativity, that of the universe or heck...this computer I am using to put forth my madness.
So, no matter how mad or insane it sounds...no matter how crazy it looks...or no matter what other people say...never stop that madness within you. Cause it is that madness which is the only hope for keeping you going on and on and on.
Madness. Isn't it?

MUMBAI : Part 2: Things NOT to DO.

2010-04-12T06:47:00.000+05:30

Continuing from my previous post, here is the Second Part of the Two on my city.
Borrowed from Satish Vijaykumar's blog post: Bombaylives.com

Things NOT to do in Mumbai:

Get into a Virar train if you are going to Borivali
Avoid Taxis outside Dadar & Kurla stations all are chors.
Eat Bhel at Kailash Parbat
Call a cop ‘Pandu’
Argue with a Koli Fisherwoman
Get a 11 Rupee massage at Girgaum Chowpatty
Call a BEST bus driver ‘Bablia’
Buy enhancement medicines from Van – Travelling Hakims who are the desi versions of the flying doctors
Look smart while visiting Chor Bazaar
Avoid asking the Sandwich wallah on Dalal Street for market tips
Stand in front of Amitabh/shahrukh/salmaan’s house — u look stupid and its waste of time
Baba Bengalis are neither Baba’s or Bengalis they are all perverts and thugs
Visit sleazy Video Parlours and get caught in a raid
Get excited and start jumping when someone offers you Paanch ka Dollar, it’s just a tiny 5 Rupee coin
Go for a Shiv Sena rally in hope for a Free Vada Pav and Shiv Sena Banian
Stare at Koli Women in Gorai and Make fun of Kolis in their Kasti
While commuting don’t tease people shitting near the tracks, they throw stones back at the train
Hang outside the train, Poles might hit you before the crowds will.
Tease a Hijra.
Bribe a Porter to grab a seat in V.T, chances are he might run off with your money and even beat you.
Get conned at Fountain from Guys selling cheap Mobiles, they mesmerize and wrap soap bars.
Avoid pimps behinds Mondegar & Pasta Lanes.
Donate money to the Crying Cab driver, he has conned thousands.
Invite Brass Polishwalas into your house
Sit for more than 20 mins extra at an Irani Café, the Bawa owner might shout some sister abuses.
Drink Neera at 5 pm at Dadar Station
Have lassi outside Dadar Station (west), they add Tissue Paper while preparing it
Throw stones at monkeys in Borivali National Park
Loiter around in Shivaji Park on Dec 6th.
Ask for a bargain at the Maharastrian Cloth store in Dadar.
Call up 26407383 Beanbags thinking it’s an escort service.
Call a Maharastrian guy Bhaiya, no matter how respectful you mean.
Go to Mondegar and ask for a Jain Pav Bhaji
Look straight and walk, We have open Manholes, flicked by Druggies.
Wear Brown Khakis shirts, People will mistake you for BMC staff.
Ask for Warranty & Guarantee from the Mallu Electronic stalls in Fountain area.
Search for the Kala Ghoda in Kala Ghoda.
Ask why statues in Bombay have one finger pointed like Umpires.
Apply Rai ka Tel on your head and travel by public transport.
Go to Chor Bazaar in your Car or Bike.
Wear nice footwear to SiddiVinayak or Mahalakshmi Temple
Go to Haji Ali during high tides
Go to work when a Shiv Sena bandh is on.
Dial 100 for fun, Cops will put your entire family behind bars and use bars.
Buy water & tea for Chai-Pani, Old Monk should work.
Fall asleep on the Harbour Line, Thieves will strip you of everything.
Eat Missal / Ussal Pav before going to work.
Board a fast train in Dadar to go to Bandra. Opposite platforms and a very horrible crowd
Go for midnight mass thinking you can patao chicks
give money to bhikari (he is the same guy who is @siddhivinayak on Tuesday, @mahim church wed, @mahim dargah on Thursday, and @hajiali on Friday, @mount mary on Sunday)
Go to an Orchestra Bar, its nothing but the local banjo party guys in better clothes
Talk to a Gujju for more than 10 mins, he will start playing garba with you
Go to Versova beach, its full of shit and methi plants
Join any friendship club, its like inviting blackmailers.
Go to Bhagwathi hospital in Borivali
Pronounce Sandhurst correctly, Sandas Rd makes more sense.
Ask where is the Chinch in Chinchpokli or Chincholi
Trouble naughty couples in the A/c Buses
Go for morning show in sidey theatre expecting sleazy action, you might encounter khudkushi action around you.
Travel from Andheri to Ghatkopar by Bus, the bus is full of pickpockets.
Travel ticketless on Friday, If you are caught Anadi court is a big torture.
Wear a Red tie or red handkerchief and stand near Gateway or Radio Club, its a gigolo symbol
Give 100 bucks to a conductor and expect him to give you change, he will sadistically torment you till the last stop.
Buy cheap booze in Churchgate Subway and get caught by cops for not having permits
Buy Crackers from Essabhai, Crawford Market and travel in train
Go to National park with your GF/Wife and take the jungle route Robbers & Adivasis might loot you.
Ask for free Chakna in bars, its history since Aug 2, 2008
Go to Voodoo’s on Saturday, its the only Gay bar between Istanbul and Bangkok
Go to Navy Nagar and think you can buy booze for cheap.
Try to play all the instruments at Furtado’s in Dhobi Talao
Stand close to the platform when the Rajdhani is passing, a sonic and nuclear blast of fart, shit and farsan will hit you.
Ask for extra chutney and sambhar in Udupi hotels.
Visit Ganga Jamuna in Tardeo thinking its a holy place.
Assume that booksellers in Fountains are dumbo’s, they know their Pulitzers and Bookers more than us.
Take the driving test, paying 300 bucks makes more sense.
Do a court marriage in Bandra court.
Count the numbers of floors of Oberoi towers just because Amitabh did.
Bet against India in a game, Australia is the safest option.
Get scared and not gamble in the McDowell Derby at Mahalaksmi Race Course.
Note down prices or take Photos at Alfa in Irla
Buy 100 bucks Windcheaters from Churchgate, they are all the ones recycled by the Bhandiwalis
Search for Tigers in Borivali National Park, It’s the other way Tigers & Panthers will find you
Search the roads & gutters of Chira Bazaar & Opera House hoping to find diamonds just because the newspapers claim so.
All the things mentioned are NOT to be DONE in Bombay.

And as I said in the previous post, this list is in no way comprehensive but nevertheless, I would like to thank the persons for compiling this list and would do my bit to update it by adding new points.

MUMBAI : Part 1: Things to DO.

2010-04-12T06:35:00.001+05:30

As I get ready to live the next phase of my life, and am sure many of you will be in a similar state, I narrate a thing or two about the city which has been my home for the better part of my life. The city which I have loved so dearly. And the city that, as they say, never sleeps. At this point, I can't help but borrow this wonderful compilation by Zishaan. This is the First of the Two posts:

Things to DO in Mumbai:

Get high on qawwali at Haji Ali
Spot a celebrity at Juhu PVR
Sit down on the steps of Asiatic Society library
Crane your neck to see the Bombay Stock Exchange building
Spot a leopard in IIT Bombay campus. If you can't, then spot a girl
Enjoy a play in Prithvi Theatre
Enjoy the NCPA in a play or opera
Find some calm around the Banganga tank
Haggle for non-antiques in Chor Bazaar
Face the high tide on Worli seaface
Bet money on race horses at the Royal Western India Turf Club, Mahalaxmi
Dangle your feet, lean back on your palms and enjoy the sea from the Marine Drive promenade
Go for a heritage walk in the Naval Dockyard (first Sunday every month, Indian nationals only)
Explore the Sanjay Gandhi national park. A national park in city limits? Oh yeah!
Soak in the Victoria Terminus
Watch DDLJ at Maratha Mandir
Party at Hard Rock Cafe and mourn for a minute the death of mills around Parel
Jog on Juhu beach
Sit on a tetropod at Nariman Point in midnight till police constables shoo you away
Stand still on flyover bridge at Dadar station and watch the crowd whiz by you
Find out who is grittier. You or Crawford market?
Find the Fort wall
Ride the Victoria on Marine Drive. Yeah, cheesy, we know
Discover the city's Jewish connection at Keneseth Eliyahoo Synagogue
Watch sunset over Aksa beach in Madh Island
Discover the underbelly of Bombay in Dharavi
Stay for a night at Taj Mahal Palace hotel. You definitely want to tick off this luxury address for the oh-I-stayed-there-for-a-while conversations, don't you?
Catch the national madness of cricket in Oval Maidan
Read a Bombay book (Suketu Mehta's Maximum City?) in Azaad Maidan
Cheer a football match at Cooperage ground
Bury your nose in books for hours at Strand
Stroll in Bombay University
Climb the airport boundary wall in Kurla to gain phenomenal views of Boeings
Swoon at a concert in Bandra Kurla complex
Gaze at the Queen's Necklace from the Hanging Gardens at dusk
Hunt for antique furniture (real or fake?) in Oshiwara
Hike up the Mazgaon Hill
Buy books from roadsides around Flora Fountain
Envy the private palaces of Malabar Hill
Party on a ferry in the Arabian Sea off Gateway of India
Take a break from the city. Vasai offers the ramparts of Bassein fort, ruins of Portugese churches and East Indian food
Trek in Sahayadris
Say hello to the fauna at Byculla zoo
Buy a camera from D N Road's gray market
Dare the red light district of Kamatipura
Guess what RFID system they use to tag clothes at the Dhobi Ghat
Take a power nap at David Sassoon Library
Catch movies at art-deco cinemas: Regal (1933), Eros (1938), Metro (1938)
Bow your head before city's famous deities: Mumbadevi, Mahalaxmi, Walkeshwar, Siddhivinayak, Iskcon
Dine where Shahrukh Khans and Ness Wadias dine: Olive, Indigo
Feel the sufi mysticism at dargahs of Haji Ali and Maqdoom Ali Mahimi
Shop at the Bandra boutiques or if they are too expensive, give Hill Road or Fashion Street a shot
Gape at famous residences: Shahrukh Khan's Mannat, Amitabh Bachhan's Jalsa
Discover theatre scene in the city at venues other than Prithvi and NCPA: Sophia Bhabha Hall, Breach Candy; St Andrews, Bandra W; Rangsharda Auditorium, Bandra W; Ravindra Natya Mandir Hall, Prabhadevi; Gadkari Rangayatan, Thane W; Shivaji Mandir; Bhartiya Vidhya Bhavan, Chaupaati; Tejpal Hall, Grant Road
Explore the Powai and Vihar lakes
Visit the museums: Prince of Wales, Monetary, Modern Art, Mani Bhavan
Admire the British era architecture in Fort: Churchgate station, Western Railway headquarters, High Court, General Post Office, Telegraph Office, Police Headquarters
Learn about the rock-cut architecture: Elephanta, Kanheri, Mahakali and Karla caves
Explore the churches: Gloria Church, Byculla, Portugese; Mt Mary Church, Bandra W, Portugese, 1640; St Michaels Church, Mahim, 1565, rebuilt 1973; St Thomas Cathedral, Flora Fountain, 1718; Wodehouse Church, Colaba, 20th century; Afghan Church, Navy Nagar, Colaba, 1858; Our Lady of Salvation Church, Dadar W, Portugese, 19th century; St John Baptist, Seepz, 1579; St Peter's Church, Bandra, 1852, rebuilt 1938; St Andrew's Church, Bandra, Portugese, 1575
Check out an art exhibition: Jehangir Art Gallery, Fort; Tao Art Gallery, Worli; Piramal Art Gallery, Nariman Point
Buy fish at Sassoon Docks, Cuffe Parade or Dockyard Road, Mazgaon
Find the forts of Bombay: Bombay Castle, Fort; Castella de Aguada, Bandra; Madh Fort, Versova; Mahim Fort, Mahim; Sion Fort, Sion; Sewri Fort, Sewri; Worli Fort, Worli
Buy a vintage bollywood poster in Mini Market or Lamington Road
Getaway to the beaches around Bombay: Alibag, Kashid, Murud, Nagaon
Travel to places overnight: Goa, Ajanta Ellora, Mahabaleshwar, Pune, Khandala and Lonavala
Discover the charm of marble tabletops, bentwood chairs and irani chai at Parsi cafes
Catch behind the scenes action at a Bollywood studio
Loft the ball for a six in your neighborhood 'galli' cricket but make sure you don't break any window panes
Silently stare at the Towers of Silence and Agiaries
Shadow the dabbawalas for one full day
Walk through a koliwada
Ride a vintage lift in a 100 year old building
Travel in a local train. How about the Virar Fast?
Ride a double decker bus. Isn't Bombay the only city where they still run them?
If you have made it to a penthouse in Bombay, you might as well enjoy the view
Drink cutting chai, eat vada pav
Gorge on late night sandwiches in Juhu
Sip some wine at an expensive seaside restaurant: Vie Lounge, Juhu; Dome, Intercontinental, Marine Drive; Aurus, Juhu; Salt Water Grill, Girgaum Chaupaati; Bayview Bar, Nariman Point
Figure what all the fuss is about having a beer in Mondegar or Leopold
Jack you car bonnet using a cold-drink bottle and eat kababs at Bade Miyan in Taj's back alley
Walk the nostalgic streets of Kotachiwadi and pay a tribute to Anant Ashram - once the mecca of fine and authentic East Indian cuisine
Eat a Gujrati-Marwari thali at Friends Union Joshi club in Kalbadevi
Smoke a hookah at roof-top restaurant Koyla in the Arab quarters of Colaba
Eat South Indian fare in Matunga
Eat pav bhaji, pani puri, bhel puri, sev puri at Girgaum Chaupaati
Chew a paan outside Shoppers Stop, Bandra W
Indulge yourself with fruity flavors of Naturals ice cream. And if it's summer, try a cup of alfonso mangoes with malai ice cream
Learn out the art of ordering tea in a streetside cafe. "Ek paani kum dena."
Drink Kingfisher, Cobra or Zingaro in your neighborhood look-alike bar of Nightlovers
Try the green chilli ice cream at Bachelorrs
Swing to some live music as you enjoy your continental meal at Not Just Jazz By The Bay. Do pay attention to the witty hoarding outside as you leave the place
Run the Bombay Marathon (Jan)
Enjoy the Kala Ghoda arts festival (Feb)
Cheer 'Mumbai Indians' in an IPL cricket match at Wankhede statdium (May-Jun)
Get drenched to the bone while biking in the monsoons (Jul-Sep)
Sing "Govinda aala re aala" as 40 feet high human pyramids take the prized matka (Aug-Sep)
Get lost in the crowds of Ganesh Chaturthi (Sep)
Watch thousands of pink flamingos in the mangroves at Sewri (Nov-May)
Eat nihari, kababs and sweetmeats around Masjid on the eve of Eid (Ramzan)
Run a 'free hug' campaign. This is Bombay, meri jaan!

Of course the list is not exhaustive but will give a pretty good idea about my city.

एक बार और...

2010-04-04T04:58:00.002+05:30

उड़ के जाते हुए पंछी ने बस इतना ही देखा,
देर तक हाथ हिलाती रही वह शाख फिज़ा में,
अलविदा कहने को? या पास बुलाने के लिए?

Flying away, the bird could just see one thing,
The branch was waving for a long time in the breeze
Was it to bid good bye? Or call her near?

And yet again, the moment arrives, when we pack our memories and bid adieu to this place which has been our haven for the past two years.
When we make promises that we shall meet again. One more time.
When we sing and dance together. One more time.
Bask in the glory of this momentary farewell. One more time.
Knowing that we shall meet yet again. And shall grace the stage. One more time.
We shall live in these memories. And in this break of a new dawn, we shall live to relive these moments again.
And write new memories as we had when we had once written.
It is time to look forward and not look back as we embark on a new journey with some old bonds.

26/03/2010

Last night we dreamt under the candle light...
Wake up, now that another era comes to its end...

पिछले रात हमने पिघलते मोमबत्ती की रौशनी में कई सपने देखें |
अभी जाग जाओ, कि एक और कड़ी ख़त्म हो चली है ||

The Contagious Joy...

2010-03-07T07:37:00.002+05:30

क्या हुआ तेरा वादा
वह कसम, वह इरादा
भुलेगा दिल जिस दिन तुम्हें
वह दिन ज़िन्दगी का आखरी दिन होगा |

An enchanting song from the movie Hum Kisi Se Kum Nahi, one of my favorites...superbly composed by Panchamda and Beautifully rendered by Mohd. Rafi. Am sure most of you have heard it. But just yesterday as I was humming this tune...I observed a magic being weaved. I have seen this happen a million times before, but this time, I actually paid heed to the power of music.

Close your eyes and for a moment, picture yourself in a crowded train, a jam-packed bus, as a part of that crowd, the crowd in which some unknown voice was humming that tune. The voice fades away, but the tune remains. And it ends up on your lips. And it goes on till you infect someone else with that contagious hum.

Am sure everyone of us has had been a part of such a moment, at least once. I have. Almost everyday. Yesterday, as I hummed the tune, I passed by one of my friends, not much exchange of words, but he carried over the tune. And after some time, surprisingly I found another friend, around five blocks away humming the same tune. A cycle that was started by just a simple tune and it has touched by so many people, am sure not without making each of them smile for a moment. We all have heard of six degrees of separation. I feel this is much shorter, with everyone being separated just by a hum...a tune...a song...the music.

They say that music heals. They say that music has the power to stir up emotions within us. They say music can help us feel the beauty of nature.

I believe music is pure Joy. And music helps spread the joy around.

So go on...

Hum a tune...

Sing a song...

Pass on the music...

Spread the Joy.

The Contagious Joy!

Painting the future..

2010-01-27T07:07:00.004+05:30

Change. A term many are not comfortable with. The changing moods. The changing wants. The changing dreams. The changing people. And the upheavals, the plans to resist the change. The futile attempts to hold on to the one thing that has worked hitherto. As I transcend into the new year, I feel the status quo changing. Everything around me seems to have a new tint to them. As I let go of my past haphazardly, I feel a need to protect my dreams. For I feel they will be swayed away with the changes. Mauled and mutilated as all my hopes have been. But hopes can grow back. The dreams are what define me. So here I am. Beaten black and blue, trying to protect my Dreams. And have finally decided to let the struggle go. And so far it has been working for me. With the conflict gone, I have been able to see the world with rose glasses. Have been able to look at the aspects which earlier were not visible. New bonds earlier non-existing. New places to visit. New cuisines to taste. Infact, am discovering new traits in me previously dormant. Have begun to look at the future with new set of colours. Not just in sets of Black, white and gray! Colours so real that the future shall be more than merely a make believe. Colours so vivid that the memories I shall make henceforth shall be more recent than an aged sepia photograph! And these are the memories I really want to cherish. It indeed is true that one must preserve the old photographs. But here I am, planning to frame the photographs, and hang them on my wall!

As I transcend into the new year, I have finally found the Joy. The Joy of the laughs we share with our friends. The Joy when we watch a movie and actually feel one with it. The Joy when David Gilmour pulls up the solo for comfortably numb! The Joy. Found only in the small things. And I finally have found the capability to appreciate the small things that have been all around me all my life. The small things, thus far of no consequence, now filled with life. And its these small things I want my future to be painted with. Not some far fetched treasure. Not some hollowness. Not some lie.

As I embark on this journey to my future, I want to borrow these words from the immortal Sahir Ludhianvi:

मैं ज़िन्दगी का साथ निभाता चला गया
हर फ़िक्र को धुंए में उडाता चला गया |

बरबादियों का सोग मनाना फ़िज़ूल था
बरबादियों का जश्न मनाता चला गया |

जो मिल गया उसी को मुक़द्दर समझ लिया
जो खो गया में उसको भुलाता चला गया |

ग़म और ख़ुशी में फर्क ना महसुस हो जहाँ
मैं दिल को उस मुकाम पे लाता चला गया|

Did the Dots join right?

2009-12-31T05:56:00.003+05:30

As I sit here in this lonely night, tapping furiously on the keyboard to form words, apparently to convey heartfelt emotions...I can not help but look back at the picture which the year 2009 painted.

A plain canvas with a maze of dots to join. The beautiful trip marked the start of this year soon to be bygone. And like most things which you want to last forever, this too came to its short end. Alas...life moved on. And how! The two month internship taught me more about life than it was supposed to about the way businesses are run. Very insightful to say the least. And these two months included travel to one of the most beautiful places I have been to...

Then came the changes. Changes? Is it not the word usually clubbed with inevitability? Yes. But then, when its the change that shows up wearing a mask...seems like the dream you pained to live...and when no one is looking, takes it off to reveal the nightmare you will be living, it is pretty unpleasant!

But then, the dreams shatter. The broken pieces hurt. It bleeds. And it clots up to live another day. Another Dream.

One friend once told me: Whats wrong with falling down? Because you can always get up and start again!

So I cleaned up the Broken glass pieces and got myself a brand new dream to dream.

Moved from one mirage to another...

I retrospected.

I introspected.

I ran.

At least tried to. From the pain that engulfed me in its wild fire. But as the Fab Four song goes, with a little help from my friends, Oh I get by with a little help from my friends! Mmm, I'm gonna try with a little help from my friends. I was my previous self! The one which I had lost somewhere in the pages of history. And I was back. Smiling. Laughing. Dancing. Wondering. Wondering if this is a dream I longed to live? Wondering if this Dream is short lived like its predecessors have been?

Wondering...

The past that was..

The future that could have been...

Looking back...do the Dots join?

Here I am hoping that the new year does not present me with a new labyrinth of dots...too messed up that I end up sulking at the past rather than embracing the future...

Searching for Joy...

2009-11-18T06:58:00.001+05:30

The rains have finally visited Trichy. And trust me, it feels divine to just stand in the balcony with the droplets splashing on my face and the misty wind flowing trough, taking me along with them to the clouds. And the chill that runs through the skin feels inexplicable. I have already put to words the bliss I feel when it rains, but this year too, the rains have brought with them the countless memories. Memories with so many stories to tell. The memories that I miss so much that sometimes they hurt. Once a friend asked me to cherish only the happy memories. And it did not feel right. People might say otherwise, but to me, its these memories that somehow define my existence so far. Happy. Sad. Of no consequence. It is these memories in which I can search for joy. Where I can look out for some smiles. Smiles so contagious that they transcend over the past and infect our minds.

And then, standing over the balcony in the rain, I reminisce. The happiness of the past. The little things that felt threatening at some time now bring a joyous feeling.

For the past few weeks, I have been searching for my scintilla of happiness. That pinch which makes life so easy. But standing over the balcony, in the rain, as I lived through my memories yet again, I realized one thing.

It is the little victories of life that matter so much. I have been planning for the wars, the future, looking for my happiness hither and thither that I ignore the small things that matter. Forget the big wars, the big plans. Forget what went wrong, what could it have been. And look at the small things. Its these small moments that will make life so easy. And its these small things, these small victories that will bring a smile when it is scarce.

So, as I stand over my balcony, now drenched in this rain... All I hear is the pitter patter as the drops hit the walls.

Pitter Patter...
Pitter Patter...

Loss...

2009-11-05T04:02:00.001+05:30

Loss. We all are familiar with the word. The word so small yet containing the power to bring down lives. Loss. We all have come across with this word at some point in our lives.

A broken toy. A lost candy. A few marks. A loved place. A love. A soul mate. A friend.

And some how or other we have found a way to live with it. Shoving it aside. Under the carpet. In the closet. But each time we close our eyes, those images, those good times just creep out of nowhere. Just as a dream so vivid that it fills up with hope. But its only as soon as we wake up do we realize that the ray of light was just as effervescent as the dream. Loss.

I recently lost a part of me. A part which was so dear to me. A part without which one is as abysmal as the fathomless universe. As lonely as this fathomless universe. And I took to books as a trusted friend. I picked up the book "On Death and Dying" by Elisabeth Kübler-Ross. And it lists of stages a person goes through while dealing with loss, be it money, friend or plain death. The stages are:

Denial: This can not be happening to me. Just yesterday, everything was all fine. No, this is merely a phase and will be over before I know it.

Anger: What? Why me? How can you be so cruel God? I am never going to your way again! Do whatever!

Bargain: Well, can this not wait. At least wait for some more time. Can't this be given another chance?

Depression: If all is going to end, what is the point? The world is so selfish, what is the point living is such a world.

Acceptance: I will deal with this. This is my fight. Yes, its is finally over, time to move on. Hope tomorrow is a better day.

These stages are in no specific order and can incorporate two at a time but one must attain acceptance at some point of time. And I am going through the same. And I know it is the most difficult task in this world to accept the loss. But am sure it is a better place. From where, looking back, the dots will seem to join.

These stages are not a remedy for a loss, but the knowledge sure smoothens the edges. It is helping me. It sure will help a lot of you.

Kinaaro ka afsana

2009-10-01T00:35:00.008+05:30

Just yesterday, as I penned down my thought, my guardian angel pointed out that we have been like the banks of a river. Then only that I realized, the banks of a river, although seem so distant, are like two people, growing together without growing apart. And no one realizes how close they are. In fact they are not at all separate. It is the divine river that keeps them close. It is the strong and pristine love of the water that binds them together till they dissolve and unite in the ocean. The ocean where the love of the river surrounds the banks and takes them so deep that it is impossible to separate them. They become one. That is the true fate of the banks of a river. And in the true sense, the banks define the term true love.

Its the two banks that give shape to the river,the two banks that guide the river to the ocean, the strong foundation of the dynamic river.

So, contuining from where I left off, and in the process, completing the whole picture...

किनारे मिलते नहीं,
किनारों को मिलने की ज़रुरत कहाँ,
उनको ज़रा गौर से तो देखो,
किनारे ज़ुदा ही कहाँ हैं ?
तस्वीर के एक पहलु से देखें
तो सच्चाई अधूरी लगती है,
इस तस्वीर को सम्पूर्णता में परखो

पता चलेगा की प्यार क्या होता है |

Kinaare milte nahi...

2009-09-30T03:30:00.010+05:30

Just the other day, was wondering how to name a realtionship, a cherished one. Was on my way home, and I crossed a river.

A river. Starts off slow. Moulds and takes shape gradually. And as it passes on to meet its destiny, faces many turbulent times. But still comes back unscathed. Wiser. And then it meets the inevitable destiny of union with the ocean. Seems so divine. Does it not?

But beneath all this is the fate of the two banks which gets sealed in the process.

Yes. A relationship is like those two banks of the river. किनारा |

Those two banks who had started with numerous dreams in the eyes. Dreams of the destined ocean. But soon do they realise that they are like those two people who, although stay side by side the whole way, although face all eventualities of the journey of life can never meet. Can never be together. Like two friends who have always been very close that they share each others' dreams, each others' lives, but they can never meet their destiny together. And they have to witness this painful reality, staying close but staying apart. Sad. Do you not think so?

Just penning down the few words that come to my mind now...

हमने कभी की थी दोस्ती दीवानों की तरह,
दो कदम चले तो एहसास हुआ
किनारे मिलते नहीं |

Heartfelt pain

2009-09-11T01:52:00.007+05:30

I am trying my best to find a way to climb the trough I have fallen into, and I believe I have been successful at that. Watching classics have definitely been a part of the ladder I am using. Recently saw one of the gems of Indian Cinema: Aandhi.

Oh, what a story! And not just that, the direction, dialogues, lyrics and music by Gulzar and RD have managed to stir the depths of the hearts of any generation. The pain of separation. The pain of meeting an estranged loved one after a long time. The memories that swarm the mind and the eyes get filled with tears. Tears waiting to show up but stopped by the barrier of ego. Heartfelt. Painful.

And this has been made immortal by the brilliant performances by Sanjeev Kumar and Suchitra Sen. The cracks in the voice, the silent eyes screaming of the pain, the pain two people yerning to feel for ages. I was moved by the scene where the protagonists meet after a long and suffocating gap of nine years. Here goes:

Sanjeev Kumar (SK), Suchitra Sen (SS).

SS: बिलकुल वैसे ही हो, जरा भी नहीं बदले
SK: जरा कमज़ोर हो गया हु
SS: नहीं, कमज़ोर तो नहीं हो, तुम तो कभी कमज़ोर नहीं थे, सिर्फ दुबले हो गए हो कुछ
SK: दुबला? हीही, बुड्ढा हो गया हु, सफेदी आ गयी है बालों में
SS: बहुत अच्छा लगता होगा तुमें, तुम तो उन दिनों में भी झूट मूठ सफेदी लगा लिया करते थे
SK: तुमें याद है सब?
SS: तुम भी तो नहीं भूले, आज कमरे में सुराही देखके ख्याल आया, लेकिन ये नहीं सोचा की तुम भी यहाँ पर हो..बिंदा आ गया तो...अन्दर आने के लिए नहीं कहोगे ?

Just amazing what magic words can weave.

The Nadir

2009-08-20T01:27:00.004+05:30

I have hit the Nadir

Is it not evident?

I have not posted in about a month.
Not read a new book during that time.
Have not seen a movie in its entirety.
Have not come out of the room.
Except for eating and classes. The latter too can not be counted. One confinement to another.
While I am typing this, am already thinking of reasons not to.

And my table is a mess. Well, it is not as messy as yesterday.
And No one has seen the mess tomorrow.

So, I have hit the nadir.
Call it the Writers' Block, Creative Diarrhoea, Stonewall or even the Trash.
But I have not been like this Before. I can blame it to many problems.
Exams. Wars. Flu. Heart. Rains.
But at the end of the day, its the words that fall apart.
Am trying Asemic writing. They say that helps. But trying it on class notes? From my experience, I'd say otherwise.
They say it is a way to climb this abysmal nadir. This gaping hole.
But the more I try to come out, the more it pulls me in.

Am still searching for words.
Lets see what tomorrow plans.
Plans.
Lets see.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone!

2009-07-21T04:40:00.007+05:30

It has happened to me before. It is happening again. Come the rains and the memories just flood the heart. And all I am capable to do during these times is to sit on the window pane, look outside and just feel the moment. There are poems, many poems which can be narrated during these times, but this one has some sublime effect on me. And I just go in a trance as I read it aloud...

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

W. H. Auden

Some thoughts have a way of creeping up and leaving a mark behind. The rains have this effect on me.

Some Dreams

2009-07-08T23:55:00.008+05:30

On one of my recent journeys, I came across this poem, this simple amalgamation of words, this arrowhead - which pierces the heart leaving a abyss behind, this truth. And it has left a mark, an indelible mark on me. I insist that you too go through this masterpiece.

I borrow the words from Paash (Avtar Singh Sandhu). The Poem in hindi is not in its entirety, but I have put the english translation by Dr.Satnam Singh Sandhu. Will Try to fill the void as soon as I can.

The poem is titled:

सबसे खतरनाक | Most Dangerous

मेहनत की लूट सबसे खतरनाक नही होती,
पुलिस की मार सबसे खतरनाक नही होती,
गद्दारी, लोभ की मुट्ठी सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

बैठे बिठाये पकड़े जाना बुरा तो है,
सहमी सी चुप में जकडे जाना बुरा तो है,
पर सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

कपट के शोर में, सही होते हुए भी दब जाना बुरा तो है,
किसी जुगनू के लौ में पड़ने लग जाना बुरा तो है,
पर सबसे खतरनाक नही होती|

सबसे खतरनाक होता है मुर्दा शान्ति से भर जाना,
न होना तड़प का, सब कुछ सहन कर जाना,
घर से निकलना काम पर, और काम से लौटकर घर आना|

सबसे खतरनाक होता है,
हमारे सपनो का मर जाना|

Most treacherous is not the robbery
of hard earned wages
Most horrible is not the torture by the police.
Most dangerous is not the graft for the treason and greed.
To be caught while asleep is surely bad
surely bad is to be buried in silence

But it is not most dangerous.

To remain dumb and silent in the face of trickery
Even when just, is definitely bad
Surely bad is reading in the light of a firefly

But it is not most dangerous

Most dangerous is
To be filled with dead peace
Not to feel agony and bear it all,
Leaving home for work
And from work return home
Most dangerous is the death of our dreams.

Most dangerous is that watch
Which run on your wrist
But stand still for your eyes.
Most dangerous is that eye
Which sees all but remains frostlike,
The eye that forgets to kiss the world with love,
The eye lost in the blinding mist of the material world.
That sinks the simple meaning of visible things
And is lost in the meaningless return of useless games.

Most dangerous is the moon
Which rises in the numb yard
After each murder,
but does not pierce your eyes like hot chilies.

Most dangerous is the song
which climbs the mourning wail
In order to reach your ears
And repeats the cough of an evil man
At the door of the frightened people.

Most dangerous is the night
Falling in the sky of living souls,
Extinguishing them all
In which only owls shriek and jackals growl,
And eternal darkness covers all the windows.

Most heinous is the direction
In which the sun of the soul light
Pierces the east of your body.
Most treacherous is not the
robbery of hard earned wages.
Most horrible is not the torture of police
Most dangerous is not graft taken for greed and treason.

Imagine how many of us have buried that dream under the heaps of so called necessities of life.

Return to Reality.

2009-06-30T01:14:00.008+05:30

It has been quite some time since I have paid a visit to this place. Although I had so much to write, I just did not have the heart, the mind, or rather, time. So tonight I let all the words, which have amassed in my heart, out so that tomorrow starts anew.
My summer internship at Bharti AXA was to commence from the 16th of April. Where? In New Delhi. Yeah. My roads have and will cross with the capital, whether its choice or otherwise. I reached Delhi on the 17th and reached the room which would be our haven for the next two months. Who would have known what was in store for us? That day was the first day of my training. My colleagues briefed me of the vagaries of the place. And did I find sweat on my forehead? Blaming it on the notorious Delhi heat, I moved on. And that's when the real journey started. I would keep the intricate details of the training discrete and for a later time, but over all, I had a great time at the Capital. From the world famous Karim's and Al Bake to the royal transportations - Buses. It is the first time I spent so much time in Delhi. Only deterrent being the temperature which soar upto 46.5 degree celsius. One thing, apart from other's which I felt was different from that in Mumbai was the skyline. The lack of uniformity in the Delhi skyline complements the diverse life, with a dash of stochasticity. The classy Vasant Vihar contrasting the Rustic Mahipalpur. The Hip New Friends Colony to the humble munirka. One has to see these to experience the diversity. I am posting some sights captured and captivated in my memories forever.

इसी बात पे मुझे रामधारी सिंह दिनकर की एक कविता याद आ गई जिसका शीर्षक ही था : दिल्ली

बैभव की दीवानी दिल्ली
कृषक मेघ की रानी दिल्ली
अनाचार अपमान की चुभती हुई कहानी दिल्ली
एक दिन के ही बोल' डांस में नाच हुई बेपानी दिल्ली

But now, am back to my Home. Back to reality. Was I asleep for too long?

Alvida...

2009-04-10T18:39:00.001+05:30

29.03.2009

The Closing melody.
An era closes its chapters.
And it heralds a new one. The turn of the new page.

This was the day we bid farewell farewell to our beloved seniors here at Bharathidasan Institute of Management, Trichy, who will stay on this haven for the past 2 years only for one more fortnight. The journey, they say was long. But now..looking back..I am sure that it would that every second had been a memory..a puzzle which we all are a part of. The journey..I found a few companions for the path I plan to tread..and I hope this farewell is but a facade..the doorway to great friendship.

But friends, this is not the time to bask in the glory of these memories, but it is the time to gather more.
Because as they say..

पिक्चर अभी बाकी है मेरे दोस्त!

AARRGGHHH...

2009-04-09T18:59:00.005+05:30

Its creeping me out. Tests after tests ad infinitum. Whoever said that life was a test really did some solid research before saying that. Only last week we had the byzantine quizzes, the daedalian assignments, ghastly presentations and now out of nowhere these exams have creeped in the daily calender. aarrggghh!
But I have got the best of it and am at the last leg of this boot camp...this end-term exam for the first year. Have only one more exam to go and then home sweet home. And more than that, am excited that I shall be starting my summer internships by this time, next week..and guess where? Yeah...there place where my heart is. Was is this elated ever? That too in the near end of the exams... :-)
And oh, by the way, I shall be staying at the capital city for two whole months...Am already rubbing my palms gleefully. Ah..this is what they call Bliss.

And oh, here is a glimpse of the year well spent. :-D

HOLI HAI !!!

2009-03-13T00:00:00.003+05:30

देखो आई होली, रंग लायी होली
चली पिचकारी उदा हैं गुलाल
बनके है घटा मन झूम उठा
रंग छलके हैं नीले हरे लाल|

The festival of colours was celebrated in all its grandeur in our campus. So much that the colours have not come off yet, even after half a dozen sessions of rigorous cleaning. Probably because the colours of joy seldom come off.

Wishing you all a very colourful Holi and may it colour up your life with the पक्का colours...

Trip to my heart..

2009-03-01T22:37:00.005+05:30

I recently made a trip to my heart, a trip I had been waiting for a long time (368 days to be precise). I started my journey on the 23rd of January. And reached the heart of the country on the 25th. Then friends, the 26th and the 27th went by very quickly. So quickly that would make the long wait seem a grain of sand on the line of time. But I stole a few memories from the trip. On of them was the journey itself. Posted here are a few snaps right out of my memories...

Words can not describe the journey... am quoting a stanza from one of my favorite songs:

बरसो बाद में घुमने निकली हु
ऐसा लगता हैं वोह किसी और सदी की बात थी
हाँ, शायद उन दिनों की बात होगी जब यह ईमारत अभी उझडी नही थी
हाँ? पिछले किसी जन्म की बात ही तो लगती है |
एक काम करें?
जब तक तुम यहाँ हो रोज़ घर पे खाने के लिए तो आया ही करोगी, खाने के बाद घुमने निकल आया करेंगे
कमसकम यह ईमारत कुछ दीनों के लिए तोह बस जायेगी |

Games Indians Play

2009-02-05T22:10:00.002+05:30

I recently finished reading this amazing book 'Games Indians Play - Why we are the way we are' by V. Raghunathan. As you have read from my last posts, it has made an attempt at understanding us Indian. No, the purpose is not India bashing, but to show us where we are going wrong. And he has used the tools of Game theory to provide an explanation.

Privately Smart and Publicly Dumb

Has anyone observed this inherent tendency of many of us to keep our rooms sparkling clean but we throw that same dirt outside. We try to maximize our utility (saving time) by not going all the way to the Dustbin, hence we can be termed as logical and rational beings or privately smart. But that does no good for the country, thus publicly dumb.

Tit-for-Tat

And the above mentioned behaviour is a type of prisoner's dilemma where we seek the optimum return, no matter if that means defecting, or stepping on the shoulders of the ones around us. In that respect, we can view the competition here analogous to crabs in a bucket, pulling eachother down the hole. And that is one of the reasons why the government cannot let the autonomous institutions (read IITs and IIMs) flourish beyond a certain point. Thus, comes into picture the iterative prisoner's dilemma. Through this has come the evolution of cooperation. The idea is not to defect first, and if met with a defection, reply it in same terms only in the next round. This is the gentleman's strategy and here, both parties retain optimum profit at the end of rounds.

Biggest free riders

In India, due to the population, people tend to be free riders. And this is visible in the incompetencies of the public sector enterprises which has given rise to babudom and hence corruption, giving rise to Systematic Chaos. According to J. K. Galbraith,

India is a functioning Anarchy.

Game Theory and the Bhagavad Gita

yoga-sthaḥ kuru karmāṇi
sańgaḿ tyaktvā dhanañjaya
siddhy-asiddhyoḥ samo bhūtvā
samatvaḿ yoga ucyate
Bhagavad Gita 2.48

Perform your duty equipoised, O Arjuna, abandoning all attachment to success or failure. Such equanimity is called yoga.

This is one of the examples which states that even the Gita says that one should always cooperate and not think of the result while performing the work. It is sad that the nation which gave the world the Bhagavad Gita has to be in such a state. Am quoting a poem from the book which has been very thoughtfully composed:

62 Summers after Independence

If we can launch rockets but get nowhere,
Fire missiles, but not our passions to excel,
Build aircraft but cannot fly our dreams;

If we can build oil rigs, cyclotrons and atomic plants,
but not our character,
Make heavy machinery and earth-moving equipment,
Yet not move heaven and earth to improve our fate;

If we can grow enough grain, but not care enough
to store them,
Allow half our population to go hungry, with
malnutrition and ill-health still our national visage;

If our population is well over a billion, and
Still doubling every thirty-five years, what we
innocently call our leadership
Turns family planning into a bad phase;

If 400 million and more are still strangers to basic
essentials in life
An equal number effectively illiterate, and
A girl child still an object of rejection;

If our water table is beginning to get lower than oil,
Our rivulets and canals desiccated,
Our seas, rivers and brooks saturated with refuse and effluents;

If open sewage in our midst froths pink, blue and green,
With such blatant chemical pollution a rule rather than exception, and
our reaction to these sights at best phlegmatic;

If half our country still performs its morning ablutions
under the open skies, and
We are blissful being the world's largest open-air lavatory,
with basic hygene and human dignity nobody's concern;

If elephants and rhinos, leopards and tigers are fast disappearing,
Our mountains turning naked and barren with denudation,
Forests disappearing rapidly under the onslaught of deforestation;

If cows, dogs, donkeys, horses, even camels can roam the busiest of streets,
With us incapable of arriving at a collective solution to the problem, and
In the name of compassion, subject the poor animals to worst indignities;

If our national monuments are in a state of abject neglect,
Even a Taj Mahal stands upon a pile of a town's refuse and indeference,
With tourism a mere caricature of its potential;

If our public transport is perennially choking,
Our hospital lobbies resemble railway platforms, and
Our cities, towns, and villages a vast compost heap;

If our railway stations and drainage pipes are dwellings to zillions,
Sidewalks, if there, unavailable to pedestrians, and
Our traffic signals obeyed more in infraction than compliance;

If our children are interviewed and wait listed for nursery admission,
A Class XII child with ninety percent does not make it to the nearest college, and
IITs, et al. brimming with 2,00,000 applications and more for a handful of seats;

If we have to bribe a babu to pay our land taxes, and
We can get a 'RTO licence to Kill' without a driving test, with
Corruption in a government department a rule, no exception;

If our bureaucracy is not a service but power centre,
and the system so corrupt that 85 percent leakage
in intended fundings nationally acceptable, with
Local administration in cities, towns and villages but a mere parody;

If a weak rupee is our best ticket to exports,
Quality, scale and punctuality at best secondary concerns, and
Basic R&D still beyond the horizon;

If it takes three to mow a lawn, and we still
Erect bulidings loading bricks on the heads of our women, with
Our pace of change and productivity among the
slowest and lowest in the world;

If petitions and piled sky-high in every court of the land, with
Justice nearly impossible to find in one's lifetime (if then), and
Our dehumanized jails overflowing even as crime rates continue to soar;

If Shanghai alone surpasses India's total exports three times over, and
India's total port capacity by about the same margin, and
India's total foreign direct investment over ten times;

If, as a people, we have lost ouyr sensitivity to the
misery and mediocrity around us, and
The only value system we can pass on to the next
generation is that of
Cynicism, opportunism, and corruption;

If our standards of satisfaction and excellence lie lower
than the soles of our feet, and
We are not filled with a sense of shame
At the gap between our rightful place in the world and the present one;

Surely it's time to introspect collectively?

And what a way he has abopted to end the book, but by (with an apology to Rabindranath Tagore) rewriting His most inspiring poem, 'Where the mind is withour fear', as 'Where the Neighbour is without filth':

Where the neighbourhood is without filth and the queues short and smooth;
Where civil service is corruption-free;
Where the towns have not broken up into fragments by narrow potholed streets;
Where justice is given out quickly from the profundity of the courts;
where the tireless work force stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream from the mountains has not
lost its way into contaminated rivers of dead waters;
Where the economy is led forward by thee into a rate
of growth higher than six percent (real)-
Into that heaven of liberalization, my Father, let my country awake.

I request everyone to read this very insightful book atleast once.

We are like this only...WHY????

2009-02-01T21:40:00.005+05:30

First of all, let me give out a few facts: 26% of Indians are below the poverty line. 39% are illiterate (and that excludes functional illiteracy). 30% of the population are unconnected to the roads. The public infrastructure is Non-existent.
A lot of these numbers can be attributed to Apathy, or, lack of public conscience.

Now the question is, Why is it so? why are we apathetic to most of the happenings around us. A possible explanation has been attempted by John von Neumann, Oskar Morgenstern, John Nash and other stalwarts through Game Theory. This theory has given us numerous solutions to the byzantine problems posed by the human behaviour or Behavioral Economics.

According to behavioral economics, humans are supposed to be rational in decision making with regard to their economic decisions. It assumes that the risk levels remaining the same, people expect higher returns. And returns remaining same, they expect lesser risk. This is called 'rationality' or 'utility maximization'.
For example, suppose a building needs to get funds to maintain its garden and the elevators in top condition so that its real estate value remains high. For that, the inhabitants of the building have to contribute. Now as people are utility maximizers, they will seek to save as much money as possible. Thus, the people on the higher floors will tend not to contribute as they feel that beautifying the garden won't be beneficial for them, as they seldom get to enjoy the garden. Similarly, the people on the ground floors will not contribute towards the elevators as they are not using them. Thus the elevators and the garden remain in poor condition and the estate value of the building deteriorates.

This is the Prisoner's Dilemma (problem in Game theory). This can be used to understand Human rationality, irrationality, egotism, selfishness, antagonism, competition, collaboration, cooperation etc. Quoting the classic example from the Wikipedia to explain this:

Two suspects are arrested by the police. The police have insufficient evidence for a conviction, and, having separated both prisoners, visit each of them to offer the same deal. If one testifies (defects) for the prosecution against the other and the other remains silent, the betrayer goes free and the silent accomplice receives the full 10-year sentence. If both remain silent, both prisoners are sentenced to only six months in jail for a minor charge. If each betrays the other, each receives a five-year sentence. Each prisoner must choose to betray the other or to remain silent. Each one is assured that the other would not know about the betrayal before the end of the investigation. How should the prisoners act?

More explanation can be found here. According to this, people are Supremely Selfish and Coldly Rational. From the above example, we can infer that cooperation will be the best strategy that would yield the best yet safe results, yet people will tend to defect in order to maximize the profit. Citing an example: India exports Red Chilli Powder to UK, and gets paid in return. To continue making modest profits out of the deal, one can send chilli powder as expected. But if one tries to squeeze more out of the deal, one would mix Red Brick Dust to the powder and make higher profits. This is the case of the defection. But this would result in the termination of the deal, thus ending any scope of continuous payment. Thus, being myopic, people will tend to defect. Thus, we would keep our home clean, but throw that dirt on the streets, polluting the country. Thinking that what difference can I alone make. Saying that if all are doing it, how me not doing it make the difference?

Thus we can be termed Privately Smart and Publicly Dumb!

And thus when we see something going wrong around us, we usually keep mum thinking that someone else would do it, how would me making a hue and cry bring about any change?
And when certain Mr. X starts up a fight for people travelling without tickets, we tend to ignore it and carry on with our lives as if it never happened.

We are like this only!

The question is, for how long?

We are like this only!

2009-01-31T20:36:00.006+05:30

I just came back from my short yet sweet trip from home. The train journey was long, but was traveling with friends which made it bearable. But on the train a strange incident happened which many of us have come across but have blissfully ignored. We were sitting amidst the cacophony which erupts whenever the train starts running, kids crying, hawkers rushing to alight the train...amidst that din was a distinct voice. Not pleasant. No. Something which we wish not to look at. Something we believe to be the utterances of a mad man. We ignored it at first, like all normal citizens, believing that it would come down..but it persisted. A little enquiry later we came to know that he was protesting the entry of the travellers without a valid ticket (read waitlisted ticket). Normally, such cases are not allowed to board the reserved compartments, but a few cases are ignored on humanitarian grounds.
So this person, lets call him Mr. X for convenience, didn't seem to have a humane side, and was fighting tooth and nail to get them out even when the Ticket-checker was not interested in doing anything about it. The noise subdued, and calmness descended upon the compartment.
It was around 0130 hours. Sleep has agreed to pay a visit after a much tenacity on my part. And that noise exploded out of nowhere. Don't ask me what ran on my mind! It was already worn out waiting for sleep. And again the same old yak-yak.And this time, he even pulled the chain...the train didnot stop, eh..due to some technical snags..but that is a different story. And it went on for a good two hours before we got some respite. But it was a short lived dream as the sunlight heralded the clamour. I must admit, Mr. X did get them out of the compartment. And peace prevailed.
An anecdote I shall be narrating for a long time. Not for the reasons which you might have picked up along the way, but the effect it had on me. Here is a question for you:
Was Mr. X right?
Simple...is it not? Not quite. On one side, we say 'What business did he have running after the ones without a valid ticket? Why can't he look after his business and let truth prevail?' And contrary to this, we say 'Yes, he was right! So what if he gathers the ill wishes of others? He was doing the right thing upholding what was right!'
Yet, that day, the former argument seemed glorious, when no one came to his support. In fact, the fellow travellers were maligning him.
We talk of seeing change in the country. We talk of making the start. We talk of doing our tiny bit that would help the country move ahead and not back in time of the dark ages. But we are not ready to come out of our zones of comfort, where we do not have to raise a voice for what is right, a place where everything stays in equillibrium. Why this complacency with the wrong?
Humm...there could be a reason which is so well imbibed in our system that now it seems a part of it, grows with it. Right from the childhood, a child reads books of great heroes who have fought against the wrong, the evil. But is advised to move along the crowd when faced with adverse situations. The child is asked not to stick its neck out and correct the wrongs in the system. The child is not encouraged to say No, but to 'Yes' everyone throughout his life. Pray pardon me if i miss a few exceptions who have gone to make their mark in the pages of history. On the whole,

We are like this only!

But the question is...Why?

Elysium...continued.

2009-01-18T12:53:00.007+05:30

Thanks to the sweet reminder of a reader, who i must say is very thoughtful, I would like to add a name to my previous post. Yes, I am talking of the samose-wala just 3 minutes away from home. And let me tell you, those angelic samosas are like medicine for me. My love for samosas go long back in time. And the the samosas which are an apotheosis in themselves have brought the quintessential bliss in this place.
And miss Anonymous, with more help from you, I am sure it would not be long when I shall be penning my memoirs. Would like to thank you once again, and do bring to my notice any other entity you may find amiss. Would be grateful if you accept this little token of appreciation. :)

My Elysium

2009-01-18T05:35:00.000+05:30

Hi, first and the foremost, want to wish you all a very happy and fruitful new year. And don't complain for saying this after 2 weeks. Its a whole year, right? I don't understand why do we all need to wish the whole world happy new year right on the first day (the telecom cos share my opinion i bet). I mean, its not like a birthday or some other annual event that need urgent attention. And I feel the same for all these 'special' days viz. the Valentines day, Children's day, Ground Hog's Day, X day, Y day et al. If one really cares for the person they are celebrating the day for, they can do so the whole year, right? Well, that's what I feel. But that's not why i am writing this post. Lets not go ashtray and come back to my thoughts for the past month.

Well, am here after a really long time, almost a month (more than that i guess). Well, not that I have not been thinking of penning down some thoughts. But most of them were very haphazard, more of an abstract painting. And only I would be the only one able to decipher that. So i waited. And then the excruciating end-term exams came along. It went, well...to put it mildly, like a hurricane. And in between came the new year's eve celebrations. Being a part of the cultural club, I was handling the music. And was it demanding? You bet. Now i understand the plights of DJs. And that when the music is really good, the jockey cann't even jump on the dance floor. But i tried to handle both. I tried. The repercussions were felt the next day. Not going to that now, am putting up some pics of the celebrations...

The new year celebrations faded away, exam got over. Now it was time for the much awaited break. Planning...Packing...Panicking... What to take...how to spend the holidays...went to the library and spent some time there in introspection. Finally picked some books for the holidays. Bid adieu albeit a short lives one, to the campus and friends, and embarked on the journey. The journey was fun with friends taking turns to pick on some unfortunate fella.
Finally after two trains and almost 30 hours later, was in my own room. There's nothing like lying on your own bed in your own room, the room which has seen me grow up. I instantly went into Flashback sepia mode. Forget all the plans made for the past one week. I wiped the slate clean and decided to relive that holidays the same way I used to, my own corner, the favourite presets on the radio, the unkempt bed, and driving ma and pa crazy. God, did I miss all this? And in no time, it was dusk. My walks to Parle Market, to get tiny weeny stuffs. Here I was, walking on those familier streets, that phool-wale bhaiyaa on the corner. Not much has changed in these years. I went to my favourite place, the used-book store. Found a long time friend there. He still wonders when will I actually buy a book. Most of the times, I just came to enquire about some title he had never heard of. Then the stationery shop nearby. I just love to stroll in these places now ecthed in my memory. The lonely street which provided me with the silence to talk to Sugar on the phone, it was still like that, soothing. Sugar, if you are reading this, I promise, will take you to this place in the near future. Then the road back home. How can i ever miss walking on the same road I met the love of my life. That park, although closed still brings the pleasant memories. And that house still seems to be looking at me from the corner of its eyes. And t still scares me, dunno why. hehe... I reach my home. These seemingly inanimate objects may hold little value to others, but I have woven a relationship with them. The roads, the corners, the buildings, the walls. They make me feel safe. I have heard people say that there is heaven some place or the other. But i say that the place I grew up is my heaven and haven. My Elysium.

P.S. : I had one more surprise in store upon my arrival. The new members at my home. :-)

अस्त राग

2008-12-19T22:26:00.005+05:30

This is to my brothers whom I could not bid goodbye.

I have got my leave. Bid me farewell, my brothers!
I bow to you all and take my departure.
Here I give back the keys of my door - and I give up all claims to my house. I only ask for last kind words from you.
We were neighbors for long, but I received more than I could give. Now the day has dawned and the lamp that lit my dark corner is out. A summons has come and I am ready for my journey.
Tagore, from Gitanjali, XCIII

aamader अस्त राग ta kokhono bhoolbo na Saha...
Aar aami asha kori dada, ki brishti ta khoob jhilmil hoy...

My Panacea..

2008-11-30T02:58:00.009+05:30

My Panacea...On this Special day, I dedicate this Lovely Poem to you my life. I borrow the words from Pablo Neruda because at the moment, I am incapable of giving words to my feelings. But every words below is worth its weight in gold..

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Sugar, Wishing you many MANY happy returns of the day!

Enough!

2008-11-29T01:08:00.006+05:30

Two days ago, all seemed well. People going out without a worry in the world. Children playing on the streets. The trains running full. And I was very happy, I did not have to worry whether I or my loved ones would be safe outside. But...

But Wednesday night changed it all. My home, Mumbai was burning. The city which is known for its resilience was taken hostage by a handful of terrorists. And the situation continues as I write this post. I am sure the authorities will take the situation under control within a few hours. I would not go on to explain what is happening as you all must have been following the morbid turn of events on your television sets. But I will just say that this incident as all others in the past will leave me scarred as it will most of you.

I would just request our guardians in the form of politicians:
Please don't divide the country on the basis of region, religion, caste, creed, sex. This diversity is our strength. Please don't make it our prime weakness. We must stand united to fight this common enemy if we want the coming generation to breathe in the free India. We would want them to play on the streets without fear. We would like to see smiles on the faces of our loved ones and not lines of worry on their foreheads. Please stop this politics meant to divide our country. It is Enough!

And I would like to express my deep sorrow and offer my condolences to those who have lost their loved ones in this dreadful crisis and would like to salute all those police, NSG, MARCOS, RAF and army personnel who have laid down their lives or are fighting for us.

I hope the 'Spirit of Mumbai' springs to action as soon as the crisis is over.

God Bless Mumbai !

And it Rained...

2008-11-24T00:35:00.007+05:30

Clouds start to cover the sky with their dark, gloomy feathers, giving a darker shade of grey to the day. A creak here, a thunder there. Birds chirping across, seeming to make a sprint towards home. The flowers reflect whatever daylight there is left, like tiny glowing lamps switched on before the twilight. The zephyr shifts gears and gushes through the leaves, giving them an invitation to roam the earth with them. The roads clear up. Kids run to their homes. Markets start rolling up.

With a slight warning with sprays, heavens start pouring with all the unexpressed emotions pent up over the last few days.

Rains.

The sky frowned and cries
And tears begins to fall down
Each drop cooled the ground.

And with each drop, heart brings back the memories. Memories, now found between the pages of that old textbook, that broken pen, that precious piece of paper, that old song which still stirs the strings of the heart. Memories. That paper boat. That broken umbrella. That music cassette. That conversation. That Bus. That seat.

looking back we will
and to relive memories,
we once had as friends.

My encounter with rain goes back to my primary days. A friendship of a lifetime was to be moulded. The rains. The long waits on the bus-stop. Those games we played. The pranks we pulled. The plans we made to conquer the world. Wreck havoc in class. Make the life of that bully miserable. The days went by trying to fly in the wind with the umbrella. The sketches of the teachers we made on the pages of the notebook. Pages long lost. But etched in the memory forever.
And then rain washed it all away. Just like the downpour had heralded it.

I feel so lonely.
A friend across the country
Memories left here.

And then it rained. Once again.

lonely rain and wind
awakened from restless dreams
your warm embrace missed.

The Days spent waiting for the class to end. The gates to be opened. That seat in the bus. And be mesmerized. Those cold sigh. Those difficult syllables shying away. Those Short walks to home. Those missed opportunities. Those surges of courage to speak. The laughter. The park. Those pestering kids who just would not learn to stay mum. The Wait. The moon covered in clouds. The wait. The pain. The wait.

Rain. It is these tiny drops of water that precipitate on our hearts and wash away the dust off the memories. Sitting by the window, as I look at these drenched leaves, it takes me to a different plane of dreams. Suddenly life seems so distant. With every falling drop, life seems to pass away to sepia, leaving behind a trail of memories. Memories which we can only chase. Never relive them again. Never touch them again. Like chasing the rainbow. Like rainbows.

Saturated clouds,
Thunder and lightning, boom, flash
Rainbows follow rain.

Rains. I hate it. I love it. I believe I cannot ever get away from the rains. No umbrella, no shelter can protect my heart from the rain.

In the words of Rabindranath Tagore from 'The Rainy Day':

Sullen clouds are gathering fast over the black fringe of the forest.
O child, do not go out!
The palm trees in a row by the lake are smiting their heads
against the dismal sky; the crows with their dragged wings are
silent on the tamarind branches, and the eastern bank of the river
is haunted by a deepening gloom.
Our cow is lowing loud, ties at the fence.
O child, wait here till I bring her into the stall.
Men have crowded into the flooded field to catch the fishes
as they escape from the overflowing ponds; the rain-water is
running in rills through the narrow lanes like a laughing boy who
has run away from his mother to tease her.
Listen, someone is shouting for the boatman at the ford.
O child, the daylight is dim, and the crossing at the ferry is closed.
The sky seems to ride fast upon the madly rushing rain; the
water in the river is loud and impatient; women have hastened home
early from the Ganges with their filled pitchers.
The evening lamps must be made ready.
O child, do not go out!
The road to the market is desolate, the lane to the river is
slippery. The wind is roaring and struggling among the bamboo
branches like a wild beast tangled in a net.

And it rained. Making me chase the rainbow. Bringing back more memories.

Looking back...

2008-11-11T03:20:00.002+05:30

Yesterday, and the day before. Finally got some scintilla of respite from the schedule of an average MBA student. Holiday(s). a word, ususally a singular stirs up many things in the mind. Those few last hours in the class...when we dream of our cherished plans for the day(s) to come. We actually visualize ourselves doing those blissful activities which we have so long neglected. Let me talk for myself...getting into the sepia mode for a while...during my school days, i had such vivid plans that I would actually tremble waiting for the bell to ring..that bell...the harbinger of holidays...yippeee! once again are we free birds ready to stretch our wings and roam the sky with the dreams...
dreams of...learning the guitar...wrecking havoc with the science experiments in the make shift sci-lab in the backyard...go out and play...visit friends...and what not.
Ok then, we have reached home sweet home. Now what? We still have a lot to do alright..we still have a long way to go! With these thoughts we plan some kind of organized strategy to go about 'enjoying' the holidays...with markings on the calender. And then...then it starts...the gears start meshing up..and? Yes, we hit the couch. After all, this is just the first day..is it not? We get to our comfortable posture on the couch such that the bodily movement is minimum. Even the displacement of the fingers to operate the remote is minimized by auto programming the channels. And the calender, with the circled dates...they do what they are supposed to..sneak away to some place unknown to mankind. And lo...time hit us with the news that school starts tomorrow! Guitar? Science? Play? friends? We just keep wondering while we dejectedly pack our bags. Friends..Does that ring a bell anywhere?
Coming back to the present, I got the weekends off after a long time...and as usual, plans started taking shapes in the mind. Books. Travel. Take some photographs. Clean the room...and pour out myself here(i shall come back to this later). Saturday, the last lecture gets over. Phew. once again the whole process starts. Mind screens the plans like a soap opera...over and over again. But the holiday(s) start up that age old process of optimizaton. minimum movement. And here I am, wondering where did Sunday and Monday fly by? Friends, wasn't it just a moment ago i came out of the lecture, Happy. Happy? Well, i am preparing for the lecture scheduled in the morning. As i write this, it actually wonder how must Einstein figure out that time is relative. Before the onset of the holidays...they seemed so long for our plans...but now, when we have reached the end of the show...looking back, we wonder how soon the days passed. That relativity. But friends, atleast one of my plans has materialised. I wanted to write about this for a long time...And now...am looking forward for the next holiday(s)...
looking Forward...to look back.

Vicarious Lives.

2008-11-06T02:12:00.000+05:30

Have we been living a vicarious life?

Before I say anything, please consider going through the following. This is from one of my favourite movies 'Good Will Hunting':

So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that. If I ask you about women, you'd probably give me a syllabus about your personal favourites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. And I'd ask you about war, you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right, "Once more unto the breach dear friends." But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help. I'd ask you about love, you'd probably quote me a sonnet. But you've never looked at a woman and been totally vulnerable. Known someone that could level you with her eyes, feeling like God put an angel on earth just for you. Who could rescue you from the depths of hell. And you wouldn't know what it's like to be her angel, to have that love for her, be there forever, through anything, through cancer. And you wouldn't know about sleeping sitting up in the hospital room for two months, holding her hand, because the doctors could see in your eyes, that the terms "visiting hours" don't apply to you. You don't know about real loss, 'cause it only occurs when you've loved something more than you love yourself. And I doubt you've ever dared to love anybody that much. And look at you... I don't see an intelligent, confident man... I see a cocky, scared shitless kid. But you're a genius Will. No one denies that. No one could possibly understand the depths of you. But you presume to know everything about me because you saw a painting of mine, and you ripped my whole life apart.

A beautiful union of words, but you would ask what relevance does it hold? Well, this beautiful piece of work has definitely made me think. Think about what we are actually learning? Learning from books? Its definitely true that books are the only means through which we can look at the world through the eyes of great humans. But where is this vicarious learning taking us? Quoting from William Shakespeare,

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand
This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this,
My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand
To smooth the rough touch with a gentle kiss."

We read this and know what love is, what it is to lay in our beloved's arms, how divine it feels like to sit near the one we love and secretly wishing that the moment never passes away. But how many of us have actually felt love? how many of us can describe how it feel like to hear the voice of ones beloved after days which seem like eternity? How many of us have actually felt their knees getting weak when we meet the person we could give our life for?

"When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself and curse my fate."

We learn what pain is, what it is to cry at the heavens. We know everything about pain from the sonnets the poets weave. But how many of us have actually felt their hearts ripped apart when the person we love is taken away from us and the separation is termed destiny?
Emerson describes friendship as,

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand,
nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship;
it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when
he discovers that someone else believes in him
and is willing to trust him."

True. Friend is a special relationship which transcends to a spiritual level. But have we ever considered looking up for that old friend from school? Making that call to that friend we used to share our lunch with? Have a walk down the memory lanes and share the nostalgia?

We presume that we know everything and have our judgments ready for every occurrence and quote someone hence labelling the judgment correct and the actions follow. So often i have read opinions and comments by many of us who don't have the slightest clue about what we are judging. And this starts a rippling process known as word of mouth hence preventing others from experiencing the same before coming to an judgment. And we call this learning. We call this living. Vicarious living. But if we have to start living life,a life experienced first hand...and this will not be possible is we are not ready to take the first step...listening to our heart...not fearing failures...obviating opinions made laws by others...and starting to believe in ourselves...

But are we ready to take the first step?

Ek Sawaal...

2008-10-31T04:56:00.001+05:30

October 2008: 66 dead, 470 injured as 13 blasts rock Assam
October 2008: UP labourer lynched in Mumbai’s local train
September 2008: Six serial blasts occurred in Delhi, killing 15 people and injuring more than 50.
July 2008: Nine explosions in Bangalore create terror killing two persons and injuring twelve.
May 2008: Eight serial blasts rocked Jaipur in a span of 12 minutes leaving 65 people dead and over 150 injured.

Just a few newspaper headlines among the numerous that we read daily. Read daily and then what? Thomas Gray quoted, “Where ignorance is bliss, 'Tis folly to be wise.”
Then ignore like it never occurred. Ha. And we talk of empowerment!
All this just brings a question to my mind.
Is this what India fought to achieve 61 years ago??
In the words of Faiz Ahmad Faiz:

“Yeh Dagh Dar Ujala Yeh Shabgazeeda Sehar
Wo Intezar Tha Jiska Ye Wo Sehar To Nahi
Yeh Wo Sehar To Nahi Jis Ki Aarzo Lay Kar
Chalay Thay Yaar Kay Mil Jayegi Kaheen Na Kaheen”

But who is to blame for all this? A finger is instantly pointed at everyone, everyone except us. We blame the world, our government, other states, our neighbours, and even the neighbour’s poor dog. Have we ever asked ourselves we have we done? Frankly, how many of today’s youth are registered voters? We would ask, who is there to vote? Then why do we not stand up and take up the responsibility? Then we would say that the system is too rotten to change, that nothing can be done about it. Then who ever said that Rome was built in a day? We have to make a start somewhere? Making a start...what good would it do anyways? Well, if we do not tackle with our problems…who would? The daily blasts. Assam. Delhi. Jaipur. The regional politics. The balkanisation of the country. Today it is one state, tomorrow all others will follow suit and would disintegrate the whole family called India. Why do we not stop listening to such ideas which coincidently crop up right before the elections? Why do we turn blind to such issues believing that these would not affect us? Why do we not do something?

Then we would ask, what can a simple person like us do? Yes, we can not see the change we want in the society instantaneously. But as a citizen of this country, I would like to quote from a person who believed that it is the common man who can bring the desired change in the country,

“We must be the change we wish to see in the world.”

That does not mean all of us must leave our daily lives and join the administrative services. If we truly want change, we can start right from the source. Ourselves. And no one can tell us what we would change here. We would have to figure that out if we want India to be what our freedom fighters had dreamt of 61 years ago.

"Wo Intezar Tha Jiska Ye Wo Sehar To Nahi"

I know we can not answer all of these questions arising in out hearts. But if we do not make a start…

aur phir ek sawaal...

Pratibimbh

2008-10-27T23:08:00.000+05:30

After months of introspection (well..to be honest, almost a year) I have finally clicked yes for blogging. And this yes is going to be the harbinger of transformation. Transformation...of feelings to syllables...opinions to words..thoughts to sentences...
This will be a place where i will use words to describe the world through my eyes....this place will be my reflection...my PRATIBIMBH...

And what better way to start than quoting from one of my favourite poems...

Maut tu ek kavitaa hai
mujhse ek kavita ka vada hai milegi mujhko
doobti nabzon mein jab dard ko neend aane lage
zard sa chehra lekar jab chaand ufaq tak pahunche
din abhi paani mein ho, raat kinaare ke kareeb
na andhera na ujaala ho,
na abhi raat na din
jism jab khatm ho aur rooh ko jab saans aaye
mujhse ek kavita ka waada hai milegi mujhko...