someday I wish
to wake up
in a place with million dawns
and no dusks
and the thought of you...
feel of your touch
gaze of your eyes
and the times
when somethings were made of nothings
were all so fleeting
nothing lasts forever...
year after year
same old fear
dreaming to meet you
waking to reach for hands
that are never there...
will I ever see you again ?
a thousand reasons
that never were
a million wishes
will always be there...
happy birthday !
Friday, October 5, 2007
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
tottering to glory ...
Standing in a long queue gets very frustrating. Last weekend when I had to board a local train, I was at the receiving end of murphy's law. Queues on other ticket counters moved faster. I couldn't help swearing under my breath. Even the pleasant weather outside ceased to make me feel good. Suddenly I felt someone push my hands. I turned to have a look at the offender.
She turned out to be an old lady. Let me call her Amma. Amma was trying to make some space so she could get to the other side of the queue. I moved aside and made space for her. If I make very modest estimates, Amma must not be less than 70 years. She wore a wrinkled face, a thick glass and had a stooping frame of body. A jute bag hung loosely on her shoulders. She was carrying a stick in her right hand that supported her movements.
I can never forget what Amma did next. There was a weighing machine on the other side of the queue. I have always been fascinated by these weighing machines on railway premises. They have these tiny bulbs inside that glow in every possible colour.Also there is a spinning wheel to add to the excitement. Amma walked across to that weighing machine. She took her bag off her shoulders and kept it at the bottom of the machine. She kept her stick on the foot platform, clutched the machine with her left hand and got on the foot platform finally. She waited for the wheel to stop spinning and then inserted a Rs.1 coin. Promptly a ticket was delivered. She clasped the ticket in her hands and got down the machine with as much difficulty. Then she had a look at the ticket. And a smile appeared on her face. I can never fathom what made her happy. Whether it was gaining weight or losing it. Whatever it was , the one thing that struck me hard was , there is this old woman who is on the fag end of her life (God forbid if anything happens to her) but even then she has this zest for life. And here I was , cursing and getting frustrated at merely having to wait in a queue. Life would be so much more good if I stop complaining and start living.
I then turned around and saw Amma tottering away. I felt so good by just looking at her. She had made my day. I felt rejuvinated. Wherever you are .. thanks Amma ..
She turned out to be an old lady. Let me call her Amma. Amma was trying to make some space so she could get to the other side of the queue. I moved aside and made space for her. If I make very modest estimates, Amma must not be less than 70 years. She wore a wrinkled face, a thick glass and had a stooping frame of body. A jute bag hung loosely on her shoulders. She was carrying a stick in her right hand that supported her movements.
I can never forget what Amma did next. There was a weighing machine on the other side of the queue. I have always been fascinated by these weighing machines on railway premises. They have these tiny bulbs inside that glow in every possible colour.Also there is a spinning wheel to add to the excitement. Amma walked across to that weighing machine. She took her bag off her shoulders and kept it at the bottom of the machine. She kept her stick on the foot platform, clutched the machine with her left hand and got on the foot platform finally. She waited for the wheel to stop spinning and then inserted a Rs.1 coin. Promptly a ticket was delivered. She clasped the ticket in her hands and got down the machine with as much difficulty. Then she had a look at the ticket. And a smile appeared on her face. I can never fathom what made her happy. Whether it was gaining weight or losing it. Whatever it was , the one thing that struck me hard was , there is this old woman who is on the fag end of her life (God forbid if anything happens to her) but even then she has this zest for life. And here I was , cursing and getting frustrated at merely having to wait in a queue. Life would be so much more good if I stop complaining and start living.
I then turned around and saw Amma tottering away. I felt so good by just looking at her. She had made my day. I felt rejuvinated. Wherever you are .. thanks Amma ..
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Monday, March 5, 2007
colour blind
Holi brings with it a lot of fervour and celebrations galore.There is something about this festival that ropes in people from all walks of life. Some sort of invisible unifying spirit. I remember having a blast on this day when I was a kid.I no longer enjoy smearing faces. That indulgence is gone. Lost somewhere in the corridors of time. But this day never fails to amuse me even today.
Yesterday was no different. It was that time of year again. I was watching kids
play from my balcony. Spraying coloured water on each other with gay abandon. I could hardly tell Pintu from Rahul. The revelry between them was unmistakable.All covered in layers of red n green. For some strange reason I got the feeling, this world has come to utopia. This is how it should be. But then I realized, in a few hours from now, colours on their faces will go down the drain. They will retain their original colours.. and grow with it.. to be segregated by the society.. to fall into some "category" .. which they are blissfully unaware of right now..
There has been barrage of articles on the recent racial splur involving a popular celebrity show. Our very own shilpa shetty was subject to some racial abuses. We took it personally and created huge brouhaha out of it. We were obviously hurt at insensitivity of the westerner in question. The reason why we were all rooting for Shilpa has to do with our own complexes. Her victory became a nations victory over other.
If we drill down the whole issue to Indian context, the scenario is no different. How often have we heard people hurl derogatory remarks at “others” ? I have had the opportunity to live in different parts of India. Anyone from southern part of India became a “madrasi” to a north Indian , irrespective of what state he came from. Coming from north, I invariably became a “northie” to a south Indian.
Segregation doesn’t end here. North has its share of ghaatis, biharis, and bengalis. While south has mallus, kannadigas and telugus. The list could go on. I guess this has got something to do with the human psyche. Everyone in their capacity tries to distinguish themselves from “others”. Could there possibly be a place where people are treated for what they are and not their cultural identity ? Will there be a time when Pintu and Rahul will grow up to share the same bonhomie ? I have my serious doubts.
Until then someone please render me colour blind …
Yesterday was no different. It was that time of year again. I was watching kids
play from my balcony. Spraying coloured water on each other with gay abandon. I could hardly tell Pintu from Rahul. The revelry between them was unmistakable.All covered in layers of red n green. For some strange reason I got the feeling, this world has come to utopia. This is how it should be. But then I realized, in a few hours from now, colours on their faces will go down the drain. They will retain their original colours.. and grow with it.. to be segregated by the society.. to fall into some "category" .. which they are blissfully unaware of right now..
There has been barrage of articles on the recent racial splur involving a popular celebrity show. Our very own shilpa shetty was subject to some racial abuses. We took it personally and created huge brouhaha out of it. We were obviously hurt at insensitivity of the westerner in question. The reason why we were all rooting for Shilpa has to do with our own complexes. Her victory became a nations victory over other.
If we drill down the whole issue to Indian context, the scenario is no different. How often have we heard people hurl derogatory remarks at “others” ? I have had the opportunity to live in different parts of India. Anyone from southern part of India became a “madrasi” to a north Indian , irrespective of what state he came from. Coming from north, I invariably became a “northie” to a south Indian.
Segregation doesn’t end here. North has its share of ghaatis, biharis, and bengalis. While south has mallus, kannadigas and telugus. The list could go on. I guess this has got something to do with the human psyche. Everyone in their capacity tries to distinguish themselves from “others”. Could there possibly be a place where people are treated for what they are and not their cultural identity ? Will there be a time when Pintu and Rahul will grow up to share the same bonhomie ? I have my serious doubts.
Until then someone please render me colour blind …
Monday, February 26, 2007
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
belated valentines wishes ...
Well .. here I am. Inspite of my self confessed speculations.
What prompted me to write this post is a radio ad that I heard
on my way to office today. Some perky RJ urged people to buy
jewellery for that someone special. She impressed upon us how
we could save our hard earned dough with valentines day offer
still on and get to adorn our romantic interests at a cheaper
price. Now, I don’t want to get subjective on the whole issue..
but it got me thinking ( one thing I love to do) ..
Is valentines day all about this?
Getting people to gift each other to testify their undying love.
It is well past the 14th but hoopla refuses to die down. Not
that I am averse to celebrations.. what makes me sick is the way
people feel obliged to gift each other on one particular day. I
see it as a larger ploy of the capitalists to make a mockery of
an emotion as pure as love(hey hey.. I have no leftist affiliations
in case u thought so)..If valentines day is all about expressing
love , then for people in love everyday should be a valentines day..
and in place of that tiny piece of rock on which blood is being shed
in a mindless way( courtesy "blood diamond" :)), a warm hug would
do the needful .. more adventurous people could settle the matter
with a lingering kiss ;)
belated happy valentines day …
What prompted me to write this post is a radio ad that I heard
on my way to office today. Some perky RJ urged people to buy
jewellery for that someone special. She impressed upon us how
we could save our hard earned dough with valentines day offer
still on and get to adorn our romantic interests at a cheaper
price. Now, I don’t want to get subjective on the whole issue..
but it got me thinking ( one thing I love to do) ..
Is valentines day all about this?
Getting people to gift each other to testify their undying love.
It is well past the 14th but hoopla refuses to die down. Not
that I am averse to celebrations.. what makes me sick is the way
people feel obliged to gift each other on one particular day. I
see it as a larger ploy of the capitalists to make a mockery of
an emotion as pure as love(hey hey.. I have no leftist affiliations
in case u thought so)..If valentines day is all about expressing
love , then for people in love everyday should be a valentines day..
and in place of that tiny piece of rock on which blood is being shed
in a mindless way( courtesy "blood diamond" :)), a warm hug would
do the needful .. more adventurous people could settle the matter
with a lingering kiss ;)
belated happy valentines day …
Saturday, February 17, 2007
blogging jitters
everytime i think of writin my 1st post, i am perturbed by the thought.. why am i doing this ? is it to impress people or is it out of sheer curiosity? why do people splatter their emotions in public? have read umpteen blogs till date .. some people have the flair .. they write well .. may be that has inspired me to take up blogging .. or may be i just need to put down some passing thoughts .. i got this capricious mind .. that wanders tamelessly .. conjures up thoughts that even i find hard to comprehend .. why am i expecting others to bear with me? i dont even know if i will ever write my second blog .. or may b i will ..
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