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Musings b4 the New Year....

2010-12-29T00:40:00.003+05:30

Her lips spoke a thousand words,

While she was silent,

Snowflakes twitched at her lips,

Her heart was crying..

Christmas jingles had faded,

And the year was a tunnel,

With its end approaching.

Smiling faces,

Acquaintances and memories,

Achievements and the unachieved,

Gnawed at her.

The tunnel was to end,

She was to find light or darkness,

She did not know....

GOD.....REVISITED

2010-12-27T14:49:00.004+05:30

In Term VI, God is back.

He reads out a line from the Gospel projected on the screen. And then He looks at the class for eternity. With the same pout of His lower lip. What might God be thinking at those times? He runs His eyes across the class of MBAs-to-graduate-in-March and MBAs-already-placed-and-not-placed-yet-in-these-early-(preplacement)-days. All of them opted for this Gospel for the same reason- to chill out; placements to be done soon and last term; no mood to study; only one place to go- God's sharan mein.

As the sermon progresses, everyone is waiting for those ten minutes. Those ten minutes. When God would go outside the class. Most say He goes for a smoke. To the bathroom. Maybe. Or maybe He goes to rejuvenate His powers.

Yes, He is concerned whether we are getting a 'feel' for what the Gospel is all about. He sometimes closes His eyes for some brief moments when He looks at us. Like being in the peace of Sleep. Irrespective of God's sermon, MBAs-to-be are busy making the least noise while they turn the newspaper's page. Some are closing their eyes- sitting sleeping MBAs-to-be. Some are reading other Gospels. And some are awed by God's presence- they look at Him, not the Gospel on screen; inspite of being at their sleepiest best. Or they alternate between sleep and consciousness. Like God alternates between reading His Gospel and watching the class for an eternity with the symbolic pout on His lower lip.

God runs His eyes over the class again.

Sermon delivered. Benevolence showered.

What would we ever do without God??

2010-12-21T21:41:00.004+05:30

A corona of life,

Glittering in the darkness,

Sending out gentle rays,

To light up my way.

I bare my skin,

It glistens in the light,

I revel in joy,

So do the stars of the night.

Romantic nights...

2010-12-18T00:44:00.004+05:30

A silent night,

With lovers under the trees,

Whispering sweet nothings,

In the moonlight.

He moves the strand of hair,

From her face;

She shies at his touch,

Yet loves his caress...

He holds her close,

And she revels being possessed,

They forget the world,

In their fleeting moments of happiness...

The passing clouds block the moon,

And shine with a silver lining,

The glittering darkness falls on the lovers,

As their lips inter-twine.....

Missing you

2010-12-17T23:39:00.000+05:30

I wanted to reach out,

To touch his heart,

To wipe his tears,

As he cried in the moonlight.

I wanted to hug him,

To give him all he wanted,

To fulfil all his dreams,

That he had ever seen.

I wanted to cry,

Sitting by his side,

While he caught my tears,

And made me laugh.

I wanted to see the clouds,

And conjure up funny images for him,

I wanted to see him smile,

Child-like; Shyly ; after that.

I wanted to laugh with him,

To play hide n seek in the dark,

I wanted to walk down the road,

And beside me he would walk.

I wanted to visit new places,

With my hands curled around him,

I wanted to make food for him,

To fill his stomach and heart.

I wanted to give all the love,

All the care in the world for him,

I wanted to hold him so close,

And never ever leave his hand.

I wanted to make a castle with sand,

And make rooms in it,

I wanted to stay there with him,

Till eternity lasts.....

Is this not love...

2010-11-27T18:08:00.009+05:30

She had told him

To go away

Before he could

Fall in the net.

She told him

That's life's journey

Would be long

Cumbersome

Fatal,

That what in future

Could not come true-

It's better not to pursue.

Still his crazy heart

Led on to believe

That whats not meant to be

Can still be reality.

He came forward

Etching the way

For professing love

And reliving bygone days.

She felt his heart

Crying in pain.

He knew she would

Never admit the same.

He promised never to

Profess love for her again.

Yet that she remains happy

He would pray again and again....

Back where I Belong

2010-11-26T13:01:00.000+05:30

My heart speaks after a long time. What I had missed all these months was- letting my creativity loose on my blog. No. Summer internship, quizzes, classes, mid-terms, end-terms, events, projects- can't make me lose myself. So better late than never- Now am bak at it. Back with a vengeance. I hereby redeem my soul...............

Restless in the day,

Sleepless in the night,

Reckless in what I do,

Helpless in how to proceed,

I knock the doors of my heart,

In search of an answer.

My heart responds with a tear,

Yet it says not to fear,

That everything will be fine.

That penning poetry would bring me cheer,

And get back my life's shimmer,

My soul's shine.....

I love JLTs

2010-11-25T19:33:00.000+05:30

I love JLTs. U find all sorts of ppl there. One who is there solely for the music. One who is there solely for the free beer. One who is there for the music and dance. One for the music and drinks. One for the music, drinks and dance. (Left out a few combinations that dont make sense....duh!)

Yet, ALL are there for having FUN- their version of it!

One who thinks that it's impossible to start shaking a leg without a few drinks warming the belly. Anoder who is a natural- not a drop of the flowing beer to dance till morning. One who closes her eyes and dances- in a trance. One wid eyes wide open to watch other people dance. One who watches other ppl who are watching other ppl dance..(confused huh? But that's how it is!). One who is head banging at every possible chance. One who wants clicks with the chicks on the dance floor. Anoder who simply enjoys being there from the sidelines with a drink in hand. One who announces for the dancing circle to become bigger and make space for him- unconscious reaction due to the drinks making him slightly lose control. Anoder who has completely lost control- is soon carried back to room. And anoder who knows he is fast losing control- he holds the walls and slides away from the nite.

One who talks by going close to anoder's ears on the pretext of loud volume. And one who shouts above the music to talk to anoder. One who makes his love proposal heard with the DJ's mike. Anoder who sings loudly as well while dancing- gets a sore throat the next day. And anoder who lip-syncs the songs while dancing to save the sore-throat torture. One who dances with every group. One who is limited to just a single group. One who begs for a chance to dance with a chick and the chick flees coz of the intensity of drunken smell. One whom many dudettes want to dance with inspite of him being intensely drunk. One who lights a cigarette and multi-shares it and leaves out puffs like a mini-chimney. One who stays away from the chimney yet dances in the fire of exhileration with the awesome beats.

One who is simply a dancing mirror image of another all through-out. And one who originates the next funky step for the dancing circle. There's yet anoder originator- who starts the train chain which travels through and around the dance floor.

One who dances but still is busy watching other ppl's dance. One who forgets about other ppl dancing and simply dances in the elixir of the moment. One who looks at the time and then leaves- brush karne ka time, (max) soney ka time, khaney ka time, padhney ka time vagera vagera maybe fixed for this person...or maybe simply to avoid sleep deprivation for the next day's activities. One who goes off for a drunken date- perfect time. One who goes on dancing till the wee morning hours till the 'Gemini' & 'Sutta' songs come on. One who joins in the mornin after coupla hours of sleep.

One who holds a glass of punch just to be seen as 'in'. One who has not even tasted punch since inception and does not feel 'not in'. One who raises the steam with the moves. One who raises the energy level with the sheer choreographic and energetic grooves. One who needs to be pulled to the floor by friends. One who can't stop the body from dancing when the music begins. One who is taken to heaven by the drinks. One who is grounded even when drunk.

I don't JLT (just like that) love JLTs- I love them coz it's human xtasy at its peak. it's xperiencing the whole gamut of high-spirited humanity. It's the elixir of life @ XIMB...:)

Tata Crucible Quiz 2010 :: Campus Edition at Bhubaneswar

2010-03-15T22:23:00.000+05:30

170 teams. 6 finalists. Nail biting finish. The Crown Hotel was the venue for a grand round of Tata Crucible Campus Round quiz. DRIEMS (an engg collg) came 1^st and a team from Utkal University came 2^nd. Excellent answers cracked by the teams. The 20-20 match started with the prelims round and the 20 prelims qns were:

1. Which international food company in India uses the original Coat of Arms of its founding family as its company logo which consists of a bird feeding its children in a nest?

2. Calvin Klein is owned by which international company?

3. Pic shown of founder of Biocon. Identify.

4. Which famous businessman has been ranked as the Businessman of the Century by Fortune magazine?

5. Which is the only railway station to be named after a business group?

6. Logo of company showing a red cheetah.

7. Carol Davidson designed the logo for $35. Which company’s logo?

8. Which city is known as the diamond capital of India?

9. Showed pic of the book ‘The Monk who sold his Ferrari’. Who wrote it?

10. Showed pic of the ‘Walk while you talk’ campaign. Which company?

11. Showed pic of a number of products together- Revive, Parachute Jasmine etc. Which company makes these products?

12. What’s the name of business newspaper from Hindustan Times Group?

13. Which company was known as Racal Telecom in 1984? (Clu: UK based company)

14. Pic shown of Yahoo’s CEO. Identify.

15. The movie ‘Howdy Chicago’ achieved what unique first in 1921? (Clu: It was the first to be screened at a particular place)

16. Visual shown of ‘the lady in sparkling white’. Which brand?

17. Which gadget is made by the Canadian company, Research in Motion?

18. It was called ‘Pinwheel’ when it was introduced in Dec 1, 1977 and owned by QUBE channel. What’s this kids channel now known as?

19. Which is the largest prescribed drug in India which comes in flavours of mint, mix fruit and orange? (Clu: Choices given: Saradon, Digene, Hajmola)

20. Played music- Dhan te nan. Who was the producer?

Answers:

1. Nestle

2. Van Heusen ( We got this wrong- wrote Tomy Hilfiger.:( )

3. Kiran Mazumdar Shaw

4. Henry Ford

5. Tatanagar

6. Puma

7. Nike

8. Surat

9. Robin Sharma

10. Idea Cellular

11. Marico

12. Mint (Got this wrong. We wrote Business Standard, which is actually by the Telegraph group)

13. Vodafone (Could it be so obvious?! So we wrote Ericsson- wrong agen!)

14. Carol Bartz (Oops! We knew she’s CEO of Yahoo bt didn’t kno her name!)

15. 1^st movie to be screened on an aircraft ( Got this wrong too!)

16. Nirma. J

17. Blackberry

18. Nickelodeon

19. Digene (Whoops! We had written Saradon!)

20. Ronie Screwvala (UTV)

With 14/20, we qualified for the Wildcard Round. +1 for 3 teams in our Wildcard Round, so we had a tie breaker & couldn’t make it. However, we got amazing goody bags!! Thanks Tata Crucible & Pickbrain! For an amazing round of quiz at Bhubaneswar.

She...

2010-02-13T23:19:00.000+05:30

She is a flower. So delicate that she’s even scared of the dew touching her. She thinks she’ll be torn apart by ravenous human beings. But actually, her own feelings are doing the same to her, leaving shreds of herself in front of her.

Silently she despises herself. For not being one with the crowd. For not doing things like they do. Locking herself in her room, while the others scream and squeal outside, she feels like an outsider to herself. She is lost, burdened by her emotional baggage, ravaged by her own soul. She wants to break free, and fly away to a place where complicacies don’t complicate, where respect holds respect, where politics don’t politicise every damn thing. A sad reality- how straight-forwardness is not liked by the fake people in this world. How she is gifted loneliness by the fake people, who only flock with their own kind. She can’t fake anything. She is truth, she is life, and she is a river flowing along her own course. She is looking for herself in the coal, while she is herself turning into a priceless diamond under the pressure and heat of the forest. The forest of ravenous, insensitive, selfish and political human beings.

She just needs someone to observe her from outside, someone who is not blind to differentiate the diamond from within the coal.

Guess what? She just found that person.

A Poetic Career Journey

2010-01-28T21:15:00.000+05:30

Note: This was an individual assignment given to us - to reflect on our career paths and submit our career story in our own original style. Gave me another chance to unleash my creativity. Here it goes...................................

On the first day of office I was introduced to colleagues and managers,
I was given a desk, a computer and asked to take KT from colleagues- knowledge transfer.
As I started picking up the tricks of the trade and my work far exceeded expectations,
My managers summoned me between appraisals, to know my career ambitions.
When I expressed, in not as many words, that higher study was an option on my mind,
The thorough corporates didn’t let it show, but within themselves were in turmoil….

When one of my team-mates left, ‘Make hay while the resource shines (!)’- became their policy,
Now additional (paid-for) work on alternate weekends, became my extra responsibility…
After the first few mock-CATs I took, the rest started going for a toss,
Life in software is weekends off but ‘Hey! Life’s like that! Face it!’ said my boss!
Living with two other flat mates who gossiped all day on phone with boyfriends,
Our 1-BHK atmosphere was not tooooo conducive for a GMAT CAT XAT aspirant!
And so with mock CAT performance graphs going down and down,
I decided to fall ill for a month and headed to my home town!
It was a respite here to get my performance back on track,
‘Never mind the leave without pay’- I patted myself on the back!
Falling ill was not entirely false for I returned to my work city with severe pain in my neck,
I had brought all the antibiotics, ointments and prescriptions for my managers to check….!

While exams went on eventfully and I ensured that I delivered the best at work,
I knew that the next review appraisal would not get me the rating ‘exceeding expectation’.
Still it was perfectly fine and life had never been better for us,
We finally got promoted from a 1 BHK to a grand 3 BHK house!
Now there was a wait-and-watch for interview calls and results,
I had three such calls, and each of the interviews went really well.
When the time for final decision came, I chose XIM,
My parents were overjoyed to know my career preference.
I put in my papers and my office was more than willing to let me go,
Why not- after all, it was the recession time….!

A farewell party in which I cut pizzas and not cakes (!),
I had fun in office till the very last moment of my last day!
Thus, bringing my memories and work experience of 23 months,
I walked into the B-School I had chosen for myself.
Here, at XIM, I have been unlearning and learning ever since,
Nuances of a busy to-be-manager’s life…..
Getting back to classroom held its charm only for the first month,
Now I sometimes long to get back to work again!

My future resume is gonna boast of IT, wealth management, teaching rural children and more,
I am gonna run a self-help group, write books and will still call it my ‘career’ for sure.
Kartikey and Komisar have listened to their hearts,
They don’t live life as cowards and as slaves to their jobs.
I admire these men and even Subroto Bagchi’s thoughts,
On how job satisfaction is actually an elusive fact.
He says- Make the most of what position you got,
But what about the boy who ran away- what if he later set up a factory or a shop?
Did he earn more than the boy who retired as Foreman of Tata Steel?
These answers still remain incomplete….

Not getting a great working team and a good boss,
In terms of professional happiness- is a great loss.
Frustrations galore make some individuals leave the organisation,
But others stay on to manoeuvre their career and challenge the system.

Yes, in India friends and family have a great say,
Still, it is the individual’s life- he finally chooses his way.
Today’s organizations are so much focused on their bottomline,
That individuals’ career paths don’t so much matter;
They are quick to fire employees during a recession,
And quick to hire when the going gets better.
After I left, I saw my own friends getting fired from the same project,
On the performance front people had been forced to resign- is this corporate culture?
When all that drives you is only profit,
Then also it makes you a big time loser;
Such should not be the motto of organizations,
Though we can never disregard the functions of profit.

Think of the loss in credibility of these huge companies,
Think of the goodwill lost,
The fear psychosis only brings down productivity of existing employees,
Apart from bringing down cost.

I thank Professor Ganesh for letting us express and reflect on our career paths,
A hundred and eighty original styles and stories- what more diversity about life can one ask for?! J

New Happenings

2009-12-29T15:00:00.000+05:30

Disclaimer: This article is purely a work of entertainment, influenced by real life events in the author’s life. The author has no intention to hurt a single soul’s sensibilities. Any hurt that may occur is thus, purely coincidental and unintentional. The smiles/laughs/guffaws on your faces are intentional though.

PROF 1:

He is like a breathless parrot in a hurry to catch a flight. And he never seems tired speaking so fast. He should go in a speed talking competition where people talk about OS&D, Harvard and Wharton University, where he has an old friend called Prof ‘Dick’ who wrote our prescribed textbook. And yes, he has learnt lessons from the past. So he will not put up his PPTs on the intranet as he has assimilated, begged and borrowed some of the content from top companies’ executives whom he has trained and not trained, and from Profs around the world including Dick. Confidential and internal reports. That makes the slides pretty much sacred. The MBAs-to-be are gearing up to take vigorous notes. Most of them that is. I am too busy for that.:)

I, and most others for sure, were glad to know his views on evaluation. He does not believe much in the evaluation system. He says with gusto that when he was in the US, he had a grading system which graded his students in just 2 ways- ‘satisfactory’ or ‘unsatisfactory’. Had he had his way here, he would love to do the same here as well. But no, alas. I could sense a collective sigh.

He acknowledges Dick, IC and other Profs (including one from Japan) who helped him decide the course outline of 4-pages, which has been derived from the Wharton B-school’s Executive Education Program course outline of 36 pages. Hard work really, converting 36 pages to just 4- deciding which part to reject. At the outset, he clarifies that this course is meant for directors and senior level excecutives and not for entry-level, first-year students (aka idiots) like us. ‘Pedagogy’ is not what he believes in, so he calls it ‘Course Andragogy’. Wow, never before had we been acknowledged for being adult learners!

He is the first Prof ever who explained the reasons for his course study material being so thick. First, a Gold Medallist in Business Finance, then a PG in HR and then a PhD in advanced IS. That’s him. So, cutting across backgrounds, the articles and cases congregate for a grand academic get-together which looks healthily spiral-bound. The next thing he says is, ‘just get entertained by watching the slides’, like it was a screening of ‘3 idiots’. ‘And don’t take load for reading the material. If you have time from your busy schedule, then you read and come to class. It’ll make understanding much easier’. No, busy schedule never changes its ‘busy’ness. So, I mentally toss the spiral bound material in the top side rack of my room. ‘But’, he adds entertainingly, ’there is a wealth of info there. It starts from why OS&D to the end article which says ‘do we really need OS&D’ which brings the whole course to where it started.’ Wow. Had the poor fat material had a brain, it’d be in a serious identity crisis. ‘So where do I begin and end? Am I needed here?’ Poor fat material perched on the top side rack in my room....I feel pity for it already.

He fidgets with his half sweater as he rattles off with names and dates of publications of journals from which he had picked the articles and cases. Wow, this guy has a phenomenal memory. Finally, he removes his half sweater and puts it on the chair. He is tall and young by Prof standards. He is wearing a pink full shirt with black and purple stripes. He announces that every individual has a quota of asking one stupid question a day, which does not get carried forward. The MBAs-to-be laughed loudly, thinking matter-of-factly ‘Intelligence and us are inseparable. Whom are U kidding?’

Good. He knows he is a fast speaker. And he says, he always teaches in a relaxed manner. I add- with a talking speed of 150 words a minute. He admits that next class, he would speak double or triple times faster, and has high hopes for us to catch up. Woooooooo! Now that will be a roller coaster ride- words fly by U and U perch on them to have the ride of your life! But he down-to-earthly confesses that if we first year students (aka idiots) are able to catch up with at least 10% of what he would teach, it would be an achievement. And he didn’t say it to scare the MBAs-to-be. Anyway, they are idiots who are turning intelligent enough to never be scared of anything.

He really misses his US students who drank juice in class and makes a sign with his hands to show the size of the bottle. He makes us feel free to carry food into class but be like the ‘civilised’ US students who never made crunchy sounds with the snacks they got. Reminiscing Swami Vivekanand who said- “U cannot do religion with an empty stomach”, he does not chuckle when he alters it to- “U cannot study with an empty stomach”. A good physique is after all necessary to be a good leader, he proclaims.

“Any other questions?” he asks. Immediately he answers himself,” OK, no questions were asked in fact. So, any questions?” The MBAs-to-be who were making signs or managing to talk inspite of the roller coaster ride, sat signless and speechless. So, he opens his slides and starts teaching. On the third slide he says, "See, this is borrowed from a company representative". MBAs-to-be start taking notes madly. He won’t give his slides, remember? At one point, he cuts the air really deep to signal ‘in-depth’. He is generally happy with any answers students give- we are more responsive than the other sections, he excitedly observes. The class proceeds and towards the end we are to form project groups. He says- ‘Let U not blame me or your friends for your groups. So let’s blame destiny’. He makes us pick chits of numbers and tells a faff-Guru guy to write the group members’ names. The faff-Guru guy is tumultuously excited at the power suddenly unleashed upon him instead of the CR. While he busily unfolds destiny with MBAs-to-be surrounding him, the Prof adds- “Do put that in an excel and send it across to me.” Now that’s work. A little less than catching up with his breathless flight of words!!

2009-08-18T02:57:00.000+05:30

A lump in my throat,
And tears roll down,
I feel so restless,
So helpless I become...

Each moment spent with you,
I miss, I cherish.
I relive each of those moments,
And tears roll down.

That day's wind,
Blows through my face,
You sit beside me,
And I relive those days.

The moon shines bright,
The road beckons me,
I rush through the road,
To find you again...

You are waiting for me,
To wrap me in your arms,
I feel your warmth, your love-
It gushes through my blood...

Lines blur,
Between imagination and reality,
I live the reality you gave me,
And my present becomes yours again...

XIMB: An Experience

2009-08-02T00:14:00.000+05:30

There I was,
Standing at the gate,
The mighty institution,
Beckoning my fate.

I walked into,
The world of possibilities,
Which would mould me,
Into the best I can ever be.

A packed academic schedule,
And presentations galore,
Meetings for projects and assignments,
There’s barely time to snore!

Yes we party and how-
JLTs are ultimate fun!
The unique culture here rocks,
Parichay, and then Sambandh.

The XIM journey is on,
And I am cruising along,
Each minute brings with it,
Unknown challenges unfurled...

Fail

2009-04-27T13:53:00.000+05:30

Fail.
Get battered to the ground.
Let your blood mix in the soil,
And make the soil sour.

Let you feel failed,
Injured, battered, lost.
Let your failure propel you,
Through the sea of life.

Let you be miserable,
Let you be hungry,
To understand what is misery,
To feel what is hunger.

Let you grow wings,
After you feel clipped.
Let you know sorrow,
To know happiness.

Let the wildness soar,
Can you please be free?
Let the madness grow,
As many drops in the sea.

Let you be all-pervasive,
At least in your dream,
And you will not even know,
When it has become reality….

About Me

2009-04-22T14:48:00.001+05:30

They say- Success is a habit. But I have not made it a habit. My successes are few and far between.They are glimpses of my power, my leadership, my total control of situations, my tremendous inner drive.I am not always brimming with that do-or-die spirit or that indomitable will to win.Lately, I have been worried about my fluctuating spirit- sometimes I am filled with energy to pursue a cause and at other times, I just go on quietly with the flow of life, like everyone else around me.I hope the change in course of my career( I am going for MBA soon ) will stabilise me better, for now I am quite restless.But that's not the bottomline. The bottomline is that- I sometimes feel just too restless and at most others, I am just fine- living life simply and anonymously and lazily.No. This has to stop. Coz I have just this life- to live to the fullest.I want to live freely- not scared of what others think about what I am doing- not scared of any damn thing in the world at all- and that will happen only when I fully know what I truly, madly, deeply want from my life. That is my journey of discovery.
People are usually sure of what they exactly want, or they seem to discover their passion in life very soon, but I don't know yet. I am yet to discover what work I am exactly meant to do in this world and how rich and famous and glorious I will be in future, or whether these dreams of glory will remain just that- dreams of glory.
As of now, I am still just chilling out, and waiting for my MBA life to start. I seriously hope- that will give me a new lease of life and get me closer to my dreams.

Smile for Me

2009-04-13T20:30:00.000+05:30

You smile like a flower,
And your eyes smile,
With all the innocence,
Of a five-year-old.

How do I describe,
How pure is your smile,
How sweet, how cute,
How divine is your smile…

It is like that of a baby’s,
Who has got all that he ever wanted,
It is frank and free and happy,
And shy all at the same time.

Your smile reflects your goodness,
Your purity,
And that you are divine.

Your smile shows gratefulness,
To the Lord,
And to me also.

I wish that you always smile,
Radiating your tremendous love,
And purifying my life……….

2009-01-05T21:34:00.000+05:30

It's her habit,
To be hurt by him,
To feel terrible,
To feel unwanted,
To fall out of kindness,
And love for him.

But still moments later-
She laughs,
Radiating her love,
Shining like Heaven;
Forgetting her hurt,
And forgiving him,
From the core of her heart.

Only he doesn't know,
Whom he has hurt,
Whom he will miss,
Whom he isn't able to find....

And pray,
Where can YOU find her?

She is everywhere-
She is Love,
She is Life.........

Twinkling Eyes

2008-12-13T10:50:00.000+05:30

The next time your eyes twinkle,
I will tell you so;
And if they stop twinkling,
Even for a moment,
Then I won’t tell you again.

Coz then I’ll know,
That you’ll get conscious again,
And stop your eyes from twinkling.

Instead I’ll bask in the glory,
Of your eyes;
I’ll bathe myself in their shine;
I’ll look into your eyes
Forgetting the world;
And I’ll eternalise those very moments,
When your twinkling eyes,
Would be saying a million words,
With your lips curled into a smile……..

Story

2008-12-10T10:38:00.000+05:30

She looks at me and knows that I have cried. While I sit at the dining table and have my fill of home-made food for the last time before leaving my home-town, without looking up at her for fear that even she would start crying, she quietly attends to me and fills my plate with more chakulis (like idiyappam, in Orissa). Later, she combs my hair and quietly tells me," You think I can’t know that you are crying? I know everything." I make a great effort to control myself, and I do. Then, I go to the bathroom and cry hoarse within myself, so that no one can hear my pain, my anguish. The helpless feeling lies in the fact that I know I don’t want to leave her above all, and all of my home’s comforts and get back to my independent-professional-self-cooking-self-caring life, faraway from home. Especially after having spent quite a while in the Heaven that is my Home, the period of stay stretched by a couple of days more, after having suffered a terrible lower-back pain and having been tended lovingly with all the care in the world by her, so that I had recovered by almost 50%. I cringe at the thought of her not being there to call me for having food, or for placing Horlicks by my side while I would be doing some work, or for having my medicine. The lump in my throat is so strong and tears so ready to flow, that I have no idea how to control myself. Actually, for her also, it is the same, but today she is strong. My Papa and I sit in the car, with our things loaded; before that, she puts a bit of Tulsi mud on my forehead. I am clouded by my misty eyes, and wave her goodbye through the haze.

Papa can see tears on the edge of my eyelids. Later, while we are in the train, she calls and talks to Papa. Then he says to me-"You did a great job of controlling your tears! Good that you didn’t let her know!" I say-"What I didn’t let her know. She knew it. She told me so". With a knowing expression, Papa beams and says-"OK. In that case, you both should have broken down. But then, do you know why she is so strong today?" I say- "Why?" And Papa says- "Coz she knows that I am here with you. She knows that I am strong, and will handle this situation well". Tears dancing on the edge of my eyelids roll down, giving me clearer vision. I smile. We talk for a lot more time, and then I climb up to my berth, to go to sleep.

Sleep is an angel. It brings the Angel- my Mother- in front of my eyes. She is the most beautiful and fair woman I know, in this world. Her photos, while she was in college, show her as being more beautiful than any heroine or model, ever, in this world. Why college? Throughout life, and even till-date, for her 53 years, she looks like the same angel that she has always been. When she got married and came to my Papa’s joint family, there would be a mad rush among relatives to see her beauty and taste food made by her. All my Papa’s cousins were younger, somewhere between 8 and 14-year-old, and they would compete for their new Bhauja’s (sister-in-law’s) attention! Papa and Mom then soon left for Bombay, as Papa’s job was over there. Soon, my sister and brother were born. My mother took full charge, tending to them, faraway from home. She had wanted to study medicine further, and was highly ambitious. Still, as marriage used to take place earlier in those times, my mother had to reconcile herself. From being an extremely loved daughter of her parents, to being the honourable daughter-in-law of one of the richest and celebrated families in Orissa, she carried the transition with grace. At Bombay, an alien, vast and fast city even in the 70’s, she adjusted in the way a fish takes to water. And then, tending to two young kids together in a flat, and that too with barely any domestic help for the kids, was a very difficult task indeed. Imagine a woman holding two kids at her two sides, and taking them to an almost empty Juhu beach of the late 70’s, and sitting on the sand there, while the Sun took its time to set. Meanwhile, Papa would return in the late evening from work and would baby-sit the children, when my mother would prepare dinner. And then, relatives used to keep coming in often, and they had to be taken care of, too. In this way, about six years at Bombay passed.
Later my family shifted back to Orissa, where I was born. My sister and brother went to school by bus, and their food had to be ready early in the morning. When they returned from school, my mother would have prepared hot and tasty dishes for them. I was a sickly child and kept ill most of the time, and sure gave my mother tough times (I still do!)! I remember how my mother used to bring hot food during our school lunch time. On some days, she did not get a rickshaw, and had to walk all of 3 or 4 kilometres in the scorching sun just so that I could have hot ghee, rice, dal and curry. When I’d be absent from school due to fever, my mother would go to school and note down all the classwork and homework. She shuttled between her in-laws’ place and Bhubaneswar, to successfully and dutifully complete pujas and rituals during various festivals and occasions of the year, even as she took care that children’s studies and food were not affected. She still does the same, as of this day and age, except that her children are away from her. To be self-reliant, my mother learnt to drive Fiat car, which we had at that time. I remember how one day in class two, after I had just recovered from fever, I kept clinging to my mother after the lunch break, and wouldn’t let her go. She went but I ran after her, sobbing helplessly and she had to take permission and get me back home. Work would keep Papa out of town for long periods. Still she would fight the survival battle and do grocery shopping, attend to children’s studies, cook for relatives coming in uninformed and multitask. Unfortunate circumstances had forced my Papa to take up franchise of Datapro Limited, a computer training organisation, which was again handled by my mother as its Director with aplomb, even till 1999, when it was finally sold. My Papa was a member of Rotary Club, and my mother was an active member in Inner Wheel Club for Ladies. She participated in various social service activities, and was Secretary of the Club for a year. My mother also had the ambition to become Master in Arts in Oriya, which was encouraged by my father, and all of us. She completed MA in Oriya in 1996, even within all the tedious tasks of the home and office. My mother also was a singer on All India Radio in childhood, and had love for music and dance since childhood. Continuing her passion, she started learning the Sitar and gave several performances which were highly appreciated. Even today, when she plays the Sitar after a gap of several months, her Sitar Teacher is left astonished, as to how she still remembers the notes and does not falter! My mother is a lover of literature and knowledge, and that is how, we all children enjoy creative writing and gaining knowledge. She is a divine woman, praying and visiting temples as often as she can. Of late, as her children are all away, she focuses on prayer and pujas and almost has got a power to know things from far. She calls me when I’d have become upset due to some reason, and tells me things that somehow come true, as though she already knows it. I have realised that if ever I have not heeded her words, then things don’t really go smoothly, and thereafter realised that listening to my mother’s advice and keeping in mind her fears for me, has always got me good results. I can write a whole novel, continuing this story! But two pages it will be, and seven hours of sleep it was!

The angel called ‘Sleep’ took leave. I reached my work destination, and have been going on with life ever since…….Hey….That’s Life…..

2008-12-09T14:37:00.000+05:30

A pin-drop silence,

Pierced by her cry.

Noone can hear it,

Except for herself.

All are working,

Or seem to be so,

But she is lonely,

And no one knows...

She cries aloud,

And no one hears,

She walks a distance,

Yet is nowhere near,

Where she wants to be...

Yet she resolves to keep walking,

Till she reaches,

Where she wants to reach-

Loneliness be damned.

Wet Eyes

2008-04-02T14:48:00.000+05:30

My wet eyes,
Look at the World Outside,
Through a haze.
But they experience my World Inside,
With clarity and joy that amaze….

They question their wetness,
And whether,
The reason they are wet for,
Is really worth it.

My Heart gets back,
With the right answer.

Then either the wetness,
Gets drunk up and gets inside,
Back from where it came.

Or the wetness,
Spills out into the Open,
Freely, abundantly,
Cleansing me of my sins…..

And making me feel pure,
Sure,
And sincere,
Towards My Self.

Stare

2008-03-31T20:30:00.000+05:30

A dazed haze,
And still their brazen eyes,
Stare.
Fleeting moments,
Awareness of,
The Stares.
Close to each other,
Talking and pushing each other,
Not staring at each other,
But still they take turns,
And Stare.
And the Stare stays on,
Frozen in Time,
Embedded in Awareness,
The Eternal Stare.

My Heart

2008-03-31T19:18:00.000+05:30

Evening turning to dusk,
Sea breeze breezing thru my hair,
And a sea of people,
Walk past me and stare…..

Who is this lady,
Sitting alone and scribbling away,
Is she waiting for somebody,
Or simply whiling her time away?

Beggars beg and go,
And people cross from my left and right,
But unfazed,
I simply write…..

People curiously look at my paper,
Thinking they can know from far….

But they don’t know that,
For now it’s not my paper,
It’s My Heart………..

2007-12-20T15:32:00.000+05:30

Can I sleep for sometime on Ur lap, Mom? I want to hug U the same way I used to, after I finished one chapter of revision for my 10th Boards. And today, my eyes are paining….looking at this computer screen for so long. I want to sleep on Ur lap, Mom. The warmth of Ur lap will recharge me for a couple of weeks again.........I m coming to U Mom…………Looking fwd for Saturde to b here……..:)

2007-12-20T11:31:00.000+05:30

Will U let me Cry in Peace or not? U can’t take away my only Happiness. I become my Heart when I cry, coz tears originate from there. Eyes r only the instrument to bring them out in the open. I truly love my Tears. Maybe Tears & Heart are Lovers. When Tears r leaving the Heart, then the Heart cries. And what does it release from itself? More Tears. That’s Love, I think. U let go. U might cry, but still U actually let go. Whole heartedly………
And then U find Peace……………….
That same Peace that I feel, after I cry my Heart out………….

She

2007-12-13T16:28:00.000+05:30

Maybe she wanted to be the only person who loved her own Self. She did not allow others to love her. Maybe she did not even want others to love her. Sometimes she felt the "void", seeing others around her, who were not like her. They seemed to have people ( apart from their immediate family) who loved them, more than they loved themselves or others, at any point of time. She thought- " Is this some abnormality with me?"

Sometimes she even thought that maybe others thought her to be a wierdo, living like that, and refusing spending time with people who asked her out, or for just some time with her. But, she always bluntly refused those people a part of her Life, which she would never get back again. As an afterthought, she did wonder whether it was okay to do that or not; whether she was hurting them or not, by bluntly refusing their love; by showing that she did not care much.

But then, after such reflections, she always found a strange peace, a strange satisfaction, within Her Self.

She would look at the mirror, at herself, and think- ' I am happy like this only. I don't want others to depend on me for their happiness. And neither do I want to depend on them for mine. I am doing the right thing, coz allowing them one moment's dependence will lead to the next, and then to the next, and then to the next, which I will never provide or even care for.

My Time is Mine and My Love is Mine. I love each moment, and each moment loves Me for being Me.

I Love My Self.'

She would Smile, and then go on with Life.........................................

A Marriage To Be Lived Through

2007-12-12T17:49:00.000+05:30

I had married my company looooooooooong back- June 22 2007 to be precise. No dhol baaja, no baraati, almost a registered marriage. Sitting in a Hall, we had signed papers, and had lawfully become Bride and Groom. Then, we had our Honeymoon time. It's called Training Period. Hyderabad was our Honeymoon city and what an absolute delight it was!! Three months of non-stop fun and frolic. My Company loved me, and I loved my Company back. I gave 100 percent of myself to whatever my Company wanted me to be trained in. My Company also gave itself upto me, and rewarded me beautifully for my enthusiasm and dedication, by making me much more rich than others. :)

The Honeymoon soon got over. And the small tiffs of married life started, when my Company unexpectedly sent me to Chennai on Posting. My Company said- "Sweetheart, U need to endure for me. U kno I love you." I said-" Hey dear, that's not done. U can't do this to me if U love me". And my Company replied- " Don't worry Sweetheart. U'll endure. U'll b one happy woman. And we'll love each other much more. Trust me."

And here I am, serving my Company, and Clients. My Company did not break my Trust. Believe me. I am one Woman who endured the initial times. And came out Trumps. One Happy Woman.:)

But hey, I forgot to tell you the Golden Rule of this Marriage- no Sindoor, no Bangles, no Mangal Sutra. Yes, but what's remotely close to the Mangal Sutra is- our Holy ID Card. Every morning the proof of my Marriage hangs around my neck till it is late evening, and then I must remove it, for the outside world should not know my Company, lest they should know my 'richness', and then extract our money. That is about the money seekers. But otherwise, the outside world sees me with the respect that only a Woman married to my Company, and its identical Brotherhood Companies, deserves.

This is another day of Married Life...............Another day of sweet Marital strife...............:)

And My Company and Me...............live happily............for one more day..............:)

2007-12-06T19:35:00.000+05:30

I
----
I can confess here.
I have nothing to fear.
Whenever I have felt love,
I have cried pearly tears.

Choked with emotion,
Warm fogginess before me,
And nothing else but,
The feeling I am loved….

And then I feel,
I can never thank them,
Who made me feel such joy…

Just coz I am loving ME…..
For what I am…..

All I can do is,
Be good to them,
And be loving to them,
Every moment of the year.

But alas,
My goodness,
Doesn’t last.

Alas I don’t
Love them enuff back.

Alas I lose my loving self,
Only to discover it,
After Someone makes me Love Myself,
All over again……..

II
----
I want that Someone to be Me,
I don’t wish to depend,
On Anybody other…….

But alas,
I have not yet reached,
That state of finality……….

I will reach there,
There is no doubt,
In my mind.

It’s the beauty of this journey…..
Which seems to be,
Infinitely interesting.

But hey,
Could it be more fulfilling,
Than the destination itself would be………..?

I have no answer as of now,
To this puzzling question………..:)

2007-10-26T13:05:00.000+05:30

I like peace. I like the silence that comes with peace.

I like silence. I like the peace that comes with silence.

Hyderabad Blues

2007-10-01T19:13:00.000+05:30

Hyderabad's rain is like a paradox. It drenches you, but still does not drench you.

Same for your clothes. It will continue to rain- an ever-so-slight drizzle- but it will continue nevertheless- conspiring to never let your clothes dry. And then it'll come at the least unexpected of times. Like, it'll be bright and sunny and U'll think- 'Hey it won't rain today!' But then suddenly, it'll start. And sometimes, even when it's cloudy in the morning, and U expect rain to grace the still muddy earth very soon, it'll not rain.

And then, as if it is an instrument of God's justice system, it lashes and drenches those people, at those very times, when they have knowingly done some terribly unjust and wrong things to other people. So, they get drenched, and suffer from cold, and curse the wretched rain for their evening outing gone horribly wrong, and for their misery.

But they don't realise that this is God's way of doing justice on them, for their wretchedness. The rain is not wretched. They are wretched. For which, Nature obviously seems terribly wretched and unrelenting to them.

And then, like a naughty playful boy, the rain gets to the streets and stays there( potholes & depressions are no less on Hyd's roads)- getting splashed on passersby and people sitting on the edges inside autos, and on people going merrily on bikes.

And the naughty rain even conspires with the as-it-is slippery and lavish granite floors of some software company buildings, to make more IT- people slip. And they fall. And then they rise again. And the rain even collects on some unlevelled walking areas, again continuing the splashing phenomenon, this time unknowingly by one employee on the other.

Then on evenings when it rains heavily, it rains gold for autowallahs. They charge exhorbitant rates, and if not agreed to by the potential passengers, the scoundrels simply refuse to take them. That's in case the autos are present and available, which is highly improbable on such days, especially just after office hours end- like 6:30 p.m.

In all probability autos won't be available, and IT people returning from office ( who don't avail company bus services), have to walk down some kilometres. In the rain, in scarcity of umbrellas, covering themselves with hankies/dupattas/books, tiny/huge splashes of muddy water filling the lower half of their jeans/chudidars/trousers/salwars( whatever the case may be).

In Orissa the rain acts more professionally. Heavy rains for half hour or one hour or whatever it is, and then it stops. Stop means a complete STOP. No irritating drizzle which will neither let clothes dry nor let people get wet.

There, whenever it rains, it rains like it never rained- with great enthusiasm and force.

But Hyderabad's rain is like a paradox. It drenches you, but still does not drench you.

This face, this mask

2007-06-11T10:40:00.000+05:30

This face, this mask,
And this gruesome task;
To live,
And to enjoy life,
With this mask.

Clouded behind clouds,
Crowded behind crowds,
Torn apart by two worlds,
Walking the middle path.

Searching for me,
Knowing I am deep,
Inside me.

Searching for bliss,
Growing the gold,
Inside me.

This face, this mask
And this gruesome task;
I know one day,
I shall live,
And enjoy life,
Without this mask.

2007-06-02T23:53:00.000+05:30

Nobody knows what is love.
They say love is this,
They say love is that.
I listen to them,
Watch them, read them.
While they say,
They act, they write.

All that I know,
Is that it is an enigma,
Which I do not know.
And which no one knows.
But which all think they know.

Devdas

2007-06-01T00:56:00.000+05:30

I can literally smell the cold virus. Anytime. Anywhere. The sensation when it first enters my nose is like no other. The other day i was standing by the window,attracted to it due to the sights and sounds outside. Winds lashing wildly and rains falling in huge drops. The Summer Sun had been unrelenting before that, and the wild storm had come as a welcome relief. Almost a wild relief, I must say.

The gusts of wind were pleasant. Even playful. They were trying to meddle with my newly shortened hair& how?! Not in full force- just with how much pleasant force was possible through the window. Outside they were wild. Inside they were gentle.

And just then, I had that familiar feeling; of the cold virus visiting my nose, and sniffing the insides of my right nostril greedily. The air it released inside my prized nostril, within a jiffy, was warm- the signature of the revisiting cold virus. That signature feeling, which I had had my maiden experience of, during my stay in Delhi for my 11th and 12th. I had perfected the feeling over those two years while over there. And the perfecting art continued even after I came back to Bhubaneswar.

Not that the cold virus did not exist in Bhubaneswar( before I went to Delhi). Just that it had not acquainted itself with me as strongly in my birth town. But believe me. In Delhi, it became my lover. And an obsessive one at that.

Every season change found the cold virus finding me.

A slight rain, and it caught me and forced itself on me.
The first coming of winter, and it caught me and grew wilder loving me.
The end of winter and the start of summer and some cold drinks( even a wee bit of cold water), and it wildly loved me.

It came back to torture me every season. And each time I knew it whenever it might have just even touched my nose. No it wasn'tGabbar Singh and did not have footsteps. But it had that habit of releasing warm air when it touched my under-nostril skin.

My body always bravely fought back and let it know how much I absolutely detested it. But the illogical lover would listen to nothing. It would relentlessly rape me every season and cause my nose to bleed with salty water and block my breathing and make me sneeze unendingly and choke me obsessively to force me to accept it, and leave me weak and conquered.

And gradually I found, I had no escape from being the obsession of this relentless lover. I could feel the antibody soldiers within me slowly losing their ability to fight. Almost unbelievably and unintentionally, I became Chandramukhi welcoming Devdas into the Chaukhat of my luxurious nose. Defencelessly forced into prostitution.

Now, Devdas comes whenever he likes. He revels in the clarity of my nose, in the submission of my body to its whims, in its ability to wield its power and dominion upon me.......

And thus he found me again while I was standing by the window. On the day of the first thunder shower in summer, and he found me and sniffed me greedily, as though he had missed me badly since long. Precisely, since the last season change. He uses me as a prostitute, disposes me and does not forget me.

He comes back again.

He is Devdas. The cold virus.

U

2007-03-16T23:57:00.000+05:30

I've known U for long,
Still why are U a stranger?

U peep in and make me happy,
And then U are gone.

U are me, and I am U,
But still U are U.

I just want to be U forever,
And I will be too........

2007-03-16T23:52:00.000+05:30

I know not anything,
A drop in the ocean.

Let me be buried under the earth,
Let me be torn by a tiger.

Let me be burnt by Helios,
Let me be poisoned to the brim.

Let me be sucked of my blood,
Let me be hungry to death.

Let me be thirsty till eternity,
Let me be whipped and beaten.

Let me be tortured and chained,
Let me be imprisoned and jailed.

And still I shall survive.

Despite all,
I will win.

2007-03-04T16:04:00.000+05:30

There was not a bitter day,
When I did not feel better.

There was not a happy day,
When I was not melancholy.

There was not a bright day,
When there was no darkness...

There is no single day,
When everything happens,
And everything does not happen.......

2007-02-16T20:23:00.000+05:30

I
------

It was my soul,
Crying out.
Reaching out.
It reached out,
And said,
Why did I come?

II
------

I want to control,
Yet I am controlled,
By some Super Natural Power,
By a changing Fate.

What has to happen,
Will happen for the best.
Realising this,
Makes everything easy to accept.

III
-----------

Seconds, minutes and hours tick by,
Have you ever wondered why?
Ever sat silently on a dark night,
And listened to the ceaselessly ticking time?

Ever wondered about a night,
When the peace and calm would be unpierced,
By the ticking time?

The Common Man

2007-02-02T23:37:00.000+05:30

The alarm crowed. A lusty king of the farmyard cock-a-doodle-do. He shut the mobile up. One hour and five minutes was all he had before his day began. He would steal five minutes from that. Look the other way, he told that frowning creature in his soul. I do it all the time. A little corruption. A little bribery. I negotiate with the world 24 /7. So why not an extra 5 minutes of sleep? he told himself and buried his head under the pillow. And so began another day in the life of an Indian.

He had seen corruption in every sphere of his life. News of corruption had followed his life as an Indian way better than the cops followed the trail of the murderers in this country. Be it the Kirana storeowners who made huge profits at the cost of unsuspecting consumers or be it the police officials collecting exhorbitant fines for no reason. Everyday he wore a helmet and no police official checked. A few days back he did not wear one, and was made to part with 200 bucks. He knew that no amount of complaints would get him justice, and did not set out to fight- he was a common man, in a simple job and wished to live a simple life. As a college student, even he had signed that he was present, later, while he was actually absent. That was also- a little corruption. When his little brother would not listen, then he would tempt him with a chocolate. That was also- a little bribery. But as he stepped out into the real world- working at the job, buying things for the house, applying for telephone and (later) internet connections, getting electricity complaints redressed and so on, did he come to know corruption and bribery as though they were his family members.

He tossed on the bed at these thoughts and buried his head deeper this time, under the warm pillow.

The pillow was extra-ordinary. The man with the sleepy eyes had sold it to him, at what seemed to be a cheap price. But who knows? He might have made a neat profit. A little corruption again. But hey, it was okay. At least there was peace in the darkness of the pillow.

Aaaah...what peace! In such bliss, he could only forget all woes of his monotonous life, and remember the graceful curves of the young woman he had met a month back. She was selling flowers on the fringes of the busy road. He had just got down from the taxi with a tampered meter, having paid the money without bad-mouthing with the paan-chewing taxi driver.

He had an important purpose now- to attend his colleague's reception. Thus, avoiding feel-bad factors was necessary. And first and foremost, he had to buy a bouquet. Desperately looking for a florist, his eyes fell on God’s most beautiful creation- sitting and selling God’s fragrant creations, even while the vehicles honked and swerved frantically.

Her eyes glowed and her face and exposed neck, shone radiantly in the bulb light, and partly, in the vehicular beams of light. As he neared, he felt his pulse racing. He asked,” One bouquet please”. She looked at the new customer, nodded, almost winked and started to briskly make a fresh bouquet. He watched her eagerly gathering gladiola and roses, arranging them in a beautiful way and then suddenly asking him,” That’s okay? Or need more?”

He was staring at her and was suddenly taken aback, but quickly composed himself and nodded. Her voice sounded like the tinkling of bells. She was using scissors to size up the bottoms of the stems, wrapping silver foil and thread, and keeping a silent smile all through. He liked watching her collar bones protrude and show the soft hollows in her neck, while she was zestfully working with her hands.

When it was done, she handed it over and he felt the soft (deliberate?) touch of her fingers. “ Seventy rupees Sir”, she said and smiled. He took out a hundred rupee note and handed it to her. He refused the change she immediately held out.

He waited a few moments to see her face flushed and to see her extreme happiness, but he saw nothing. He just saw her knowing glance- he just saw that she made so much money and more. Perhaps she wanted more, because she was capable of giving much more. Maybe she did. For men paying her much more than what she spent on her flowers. He turned away before thinking much more, and resumed his purpose. But the encounter with her, he would not forget for a long time.

2007-01-21T12:03:00.000+05:30

It feels like ages.
Or perhaps just a moment.
Where were you?

You were only closeby,
In the morning dew.

The petal smiled,
The flower bloomed,
And there was the dew,
Or was it you.....

Thinking was not necessary,
Even consciousness was not.
No urge felt of missing,
Or remembering you a lot.

You were a steady flame,
Lighting the background...
Am glad you are always there,
Spreading warmth around.....

Desire

2006-12-25T11:47:00.000+05:30

While overwhelming when it comes,
Momentary only it is........
Wraps the senses with exceeding pleasure,
Desire....that is.

Just giving in,
Without a fight;
No fun without
The battle of mental might.

That sweet victory of resistance,
After a viciously fought battle,
Is what truly is
The purity and charm,
Of virginity....

Losing it just like that,
To the typhoon of lust,
Is a loss most sour,
Is utter disgrace......

Higher than this high
Is the highest high
Of victory
After resistance.....

Of patience,
Till you get,
Your perfect someone....
Your soulmate.......

The warmth & the light

2006-12-24T11:35:00.000+05:30

The wintry night warmed my hands,
And left me alone to muse.
I loved the sheer tenderness,
That this chilly night had bestowed.

Perhaps it was the warmth within me,
Deep in my soul;
Spreading through my body,
And making me feel like gold.

Fresh as a bloomed flower,
I muse about life;
What with the night around me,
And the celestial light.

I am lit up;
The light in a thousand dark miles.

I am the oasis in the fiery desert.
And the rain in the lands so dry.

I am the Sun- rising, setting and rising,
And the Glory, for whom Humanity has been waiting.

I have come, I am here.
Let there be no vice, no fear.

Hold my hand, we shall go far,
Don't look below- look up at the stars...........

2006-12-15T20:09:00.000+05:30

The constancy of any emotion with time, be it pain, joy, respect, ecstasy, attraction or fear, is an untruth. If a person says that the feeling towards sumthing or somebody is always the same, then surely that's a lie. Coz, the only truth is- change.

U want to hate somebody. Then, the mind will simply open the key to that chamber, which contains all the hurting memories of that person. And your body will cringe in hatred. Full of negative energy. And overwhelming desires to retaliate. To hurt back.

But, U want to love somebody. Then your mind makes U relive those blissful moments spent with that person; the pituitary gland takes command and releases all the 'feel-good' hormones through your blood.
And there U are- ecstatic, beaming and radiant....!

That's why they say- fill your life with love.
Forget and forgive prople who have behaved badly/ hurt U, coz in the process of hating them, U only fill your present with hatred and negative energy.

But things are only easier said than done.
Practising them, day-in-and-day-out is a task perhaps more Herculean than climbing Mount Everest, for us- the 'ordinary' human beings.

In reality, God never made human beings 'ordinary'. That He gave us the power of Will, the responsibility of this beautiful planet Earth and also to choose what we want to be- makes us actually 'extraordinary'.

But it depends on us whether we want to exercise the tremendous power of the 'extraordinariness' or not. Now it's our choice- to be or not to be, and if to be, then what way to be.

2006-12-15T19:54:00.000+05:30

I haven't given love. So how will I receive it?
I haven't been a friend. So how will one befriend me?
I haven't been good. So how will others be good to me?
Let me be the source first.
Becoming a destination depends on,
How good a source I have been.

Have I been like the Sun,
And helped life fluorish?

Have I been like the soil,
And nourished the plants above me?

Have I been like the air,
And supplied life-giving oxygen to all?

Have I been like the water,
And flowed through everybody, and quenched their thirst?

No, I have not constantly been so.

But the few moments I have been so,
I have been the happiest human being.......:)

Creatively yours

2006-12-10T17:00:00.000+05:30

It’s been long,
And I’ve been away.
Haven’t missed my blog,
Haven’t missed your say.

But now I realize,
I’ve missed my creative self.

I’ve missed the left side of my brain,
Amidst all the rationalism,
Of some hyped examinations……..:)

So I am back.
Creatively yours……
Amrita Sabat.

Tears

2006-08-22T22:19:00.000+05:30

Tears are
My only freedom
My only solace

My beauty
My depth

My love
My happiness

My warmth
My salinity

My strength
My weakness

My humility
My pride.

Yes.
That's My Tears.....
For Me......

I love them.

They blur me.....
And then bring
The most clear vision......

And the most beautiful smile......:)

Trigger & Time

2006-07-11T22:52:00.000+05:30

A trigger,
To my thought process.
And my mind........
Breezes through time.........

With so much ease,
My mind,
Travels an esoteric past...
And flies through real fast........

Warping the fabric of time,
Caring not for ultimate goals,
This powerful mind,
Is out to play a game-so-fine............

It makes me a happy visitor,
To the already built mansions,
Of my own imagination............

It makes me a guest,
And makes me feel elated,
By simply asking me,
To forget all worries and just rest...........!

And so, being supremely happy,
I live in these mansions........
And after God's long day,
The host takes me to the Present........

I go back feeling euphoric,
Having enjoyed to the hilt..........

But alas! U all know how........
Man's greed is never fulfilled.............:)

It was Her

2006-07-09T19:05:00.000+05:30

It was night,
Yet there was light…….
And there was just one woman,
On the beach……..

Long hair,
And her beautiful back,
Was all that I got,
To see.

She was waiting on the sand,
So the waves would come,
So she would be taken,
To the middle of the sea……..

And while she,
Would be taken………
The sea behind her,
Would cease to be……….

And the barren place,
Would again become sea,
As the water carried her back,
To the beach……….

It was most magical,
As my eyes followed her…..
I could feel…
Her luminosity……….

All I could see,
Was just her bare back…….
My efforts to see who she was,
Of no avail………..

I called out to her,
And she disappeared.

But I’m sure she was…..
The most beautiful woman on earth…………

Mystery

2006-07-09T18:21:00.000+05:30

Time; caught at the crossroads…….
Me; staring out of the window……..
My books; waiting to be practised from…….
My mind; harping on latest happenings…….
My heart; waiting for evening to descend…….
My hand; reaching out for a pen………
My soul; dictating these very words……….

Myself……wondering at the mystery of it all………

She looks like a dream..........

2006-07-05T23:35:00.000+05:30

She looks like a dream,
Whose time has come,
To get fulfilled.

She looks at the sky,
And touches the dusty beams.

She looks at the trees,
And devours the scenic green.

She looks at the birds,
And breaks into melody.

She hears the thunder,
And claps to its beat.

She feels her freedom,
And celebrates HER life- makes merry.

Before she lets go the rein,
Reminisces everything-
All the dreams,
All the happiness,
All the pain…..

Then, she looks at the rain,
And gets drenched.

In her own tears………

Life

2006-06-29T16:39:00.000+05:30

Life is what we make it,
And how we take it......

Life is a star......
that's why there is an aura.....
visible to only those..
who can see it........

Life is a flower,
With an ethereal fragrance...
No wonder it spreads......
beyond land's end....

Life is a bird,
Wanting to fly high.
Free will its wings.......
And Limit is the Sky.

Life is a rock,
Steady...steadfast.......
Living upto challenges.......
Fighting till the war lasts.......

Life is to live...
each moment..
Of pain..
Regret..
Misery......
Happiness.....
Beauty.....
Emptiness.....
Hardship...
Temptation.....
Thrill.....
Newness......
Frustration...
Helplessness.....
Contentment...
Love....
And Infinite Joy.

Life is to revel.....
To feel the rejuvenation.....
To recreate oneself..
with each passing moment.

Life is to learn...
that Life is the greatest truth.....
that Life is the greatest Learner.....
That Life is the greatest Teacher....

Life is our Guardian Angel......
when it converges with time.
Together these have the ultimate power......
And make each passing moment divine.....

2006-06-07T17:43:00.000+05:30

One rainy day,
And another one;
One impatient feeling,
And another one;
One realization,
And another one;
One fateful moment,
And another one……..

Several rainy days,
Several impatient feelings,
Several realizations,
Several fateful moments…..

That’s life………

2006-06-04T17:24:00.000+05:30

It was like being made into a concave mirror from a convex one, by being silvered on the opposite side. Heck. Such things happened only if I allowed it. God only knows how much longer I am gonna allow it. 21 years is a long time, you know. People become beauty queens, business barons, ethical hackers, writers, music artistes, developers, inventors and world famous award-winners by this time. People cease grappling with insecurities, indecisiveness, irresponsibilities-inspite-of-sense-of-responsibility, attachment, emotions-pulling-hither-and-thither, and influences, by this time. People become the quintessential- ‘people’, by this time. And even before that.

But not me.

Being honest and true to the core, does not help. It chugs along a train of difficulties. Putting others’ ideas first and giving them most importance, by habit, does not help. Caring for others more than they can sense coming from our exterior or can comprehend, does not help. Thinking while others don’t realize how much you have thought, does not help. Expressing less, and feeling more, does not help. This is the world of ‘Express Yourself’, after all. And expressing through tears, is worse still. They think tears are weak. Or worse still, tears are to be used in melo-drama. Heartfeltness- confused with intentions. Doom.

Anyway, there is a poem called ‘Anyway’. It carries a beautiful message. Tough to practice it in an insensitive world, but all the same, it is a landmark-specially for sensitive people.
Actually, the more I try taking control and not be a sensitive idiot, the more I become unable to do so.
It’s like- the more dirt U scrape from your back, the more dirt U are gonna get.
The more dandruff U shake out from your head, there will still be more to come out.
The more bosses hike people’s salaries, the more they have to hike it.
The more U blog and orkut, the more U do it.
The more U remove wax from your ears, there’s still more inside.

And so, things left as they are, would maybe be better.

But no. Things have to be cleaned. Got done. Continued. Coz they are vital.

This poem(Mother Teresa’s ‘Anyway’) infuses hope that sensitive idiots may live without losing heart, and without turning into insensitive idiots.

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;
Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;
Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;
Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;
Be honest and frank anyway.

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;
Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;
Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

this is not poetry.

2006-06-04T16:34:00.000+05:30

U have never loved me.
U have only loved the image U have had, of me.
Since the time U were young, U had dreamed that Ur dream should have certain qualities.
U found them in me and stopped your quest.
Ur image of perfection was complete.
It was so complete, that U looked for no bad qualities, and never found them.
Or they stared at Ur face, and U let go.
What U perceived, reigned supreme.
That pure, ethereal image took over U.
And U were helpless.
Like any worldly person would think in such a situation, U also thought.
And believed, to think.
And thought, to believe.
That U are in love.
With me.
That Ur heart is flowing out with praise, admiration and respect.
For me.
But no.
It was an image of mine Ur mind had taken to.
Not me.
It was a perception of mine U were in love with.
Not me.
Once that changed, all else changed.

Angels became demons.
Demons became angels.

Angels and demons.

Friends became strangers.
Strangers became friends.

Friends and strangers.

U said that I had changed.
But it was only Ur perception of me that had changed.

No.
U have never ever loved me.
U have only loved the image u have had, of me…………………….

look at the stars

2006-05-28T09:19:00.000+05:30

Lay down,
On the grassy dew,
Of this twinkling night,
Kissed by the breeze….

Attain bliss,
Thinking of those blissful times….

Touched deep within,
Haunted by space and time;

Experience…….the sublime……..

Say what you wanna say-
The winds will carry your voice….

And- Look at The Stars-
Radiating, as usual, their eternal glory….
So you will find, whatever you seek……..

2006-05-28T09:00:00.000+05:30

What one does not have, or thinks the self unable of having, or thinks unworthy to have, becomes a topic of much thought, much speculation, some envy(‘not in the latter case.’ did you say that? U’ll come to know otherwise….) and specifically in the latter case, much sensationalisation. The latter case is on my radar now.

Deciding what is ‘unworthy’ to have, is a factorial task. The conditioning factor. The flexibility of approach to ideas. The acceptance-of-change factor. The (broad/narrow/in-between) mindedness. The adventurism factor. The prejudices factor. The extent of conventionalism. The slice of life attached to peers/elders. The experience factor. The scared-of-risk factor.

Unworthy. Like, for some, having a capuchinno at a coffee outlet. Or having Pizza Hut goodies. Or having a gf or bf. Or the unworthiest thing being having a capuchinno at a coffee outlet or Pizza Hut goodies, with the bf/gf. Or, liking the curves of Mallika Sherawat. Or maybe, spending some chatting or orkuttin time on the net. Or even just having any-time-access to the internet. [ Not a coincidence that, those not having, ‘think’ it ‘unworthy’. A mixture of a tinge of suspicion-envy(I with my present resources can not have that thing with/within me) –inquisitiveness(wonder how it would feel)-scopeforcontroversy-prejudice-peers-and-all-factors-mentioned-in-previous-stanza is probably the reason in all these cases. The self-explanation given is ‘I don’t want it and happier without it’. But actually, contempt is seething within and finds expression through sarcastic comments at those who have got it. It’s unfortunate, how disproportionate contempt creeps and clasps, in even people with otherwise good value systems. When bare human nature takes over, then bare human nature takes over.]. Or maybe, having cable channels. Or, the quality of being argumentative. Or probably, reading another Sidney Sheldon after reading another Sidney Sheldon. Or, the quality of being adventuristic. Or simply, keeping dumb teachers in good humour (of course, those who neglect it, don’t get good marks! But even then, some people rather choose to do without it). Or maybe, going to the local Orkut meet. Or perhaps, ‘falling in love’(in the present day world). Undesirable. Unworthy. They think all these things to be ‘unworthy’ is fine, but what is not fine, is to scoff at people who think any of these things to be worthy! Everybody is entitled to their own choice, after all!

So anyway, they are outright in condemning the change. They wage a war. Against how girls never should aspire to have beautiful figures. Against how ‘love’ in the present context, is nothing but a farce. A hoax. Against how girls should never wear sleeveless tops. Against how coffee-shops and 5-star hotels and big cars are only an abyss for money and have false status symbol sensibilities attached to them. And they discuss amongst like-minded crusaders, that how lucky and wise they themselves are. Against how other youths are rotting away. Against how the internet is nothing else except a net of waste. Maybe all of it is true to an extent( again a matter of personal opinion), but all of this does not deserve the extreme/undue hatred which the belligerent crusaders blindingly form inside their minds, by making their imaginations work overtime and wasting otherwise useful energy.
Many of the times, what they cannot get or have( at the moment) is snowballed into a prejudice against it. The snow of ‘unworthiness’ covers it. Conveniently. Efficiently. Convincingly. A pride arises- the pride of rejecting the ‘unworthy’.

So, whom are they fighting against? Mostly, only themselves. Without( or maybe, inspite of) realizing that the driving factor of their hatred is in barest terms, The haves and have-nots divide.

Whom are these crusaders trying to hurt by subtle, yet sarcastic remarks? Now you know. Will the frustrated crusaders who have self-launched their self-made crusade, never realize the simple truth of the world? Those who are (sanely/insanely/in-between) rich and (separately) those who have the inclination and (separately) those who have the requisite qualities( for instance, can butter the teacher/boss, or can argue, or can flirt) and of course exercising their choice in a democratic-globalising-shining economy, will go ahead and do their thing.

Have it. Will do it.

Welling up with prejudices and not-accepting-the-void-felt-at-times, is gravely injurious to health. To physical & emotional well-being.

Let us exactly accept what we have and do not have. Of course, the envy is natural in human nature, and it gives way to sadism. But let us also remember that it is very much within our choice and ability to achieve what we want to, and this same envy(instead of turning into sadism) can drive us towards that, and we have a choice to not hurt others by cynicism regarding what other people want to enjoy and yet we detest.

Let us just be human beings. And choose to exercise the fair choice.

2006-05-28T08:55:00.000+05:30

Sorrow does not begin,
Where Happiness ends.
Poverty does not begin,
Where Riches end…

Mystery does not begin,
Where Frankness ends.
Enmity does not begin,
Where Friendship ends…

Brutality does not begin,
Where Kindness ends.
Strangership does not begin,
Where Familiarity ends…

Enlightenment does not begin,
Where Ignorance ends.
Helplessness does not begin,
Where Power ends…

Fear does not begin,
Where Fortitude ends.
Greed does not begin,
Where Generosity ends…

Independence does not begin,
Where Dependence ends.
Dullness does not begin,
Where Creativity ends…

Pride does not begin,
Where Humility ends.
Rejection does not begin,
Where Acceptance ends…

Nervousness does not begin,
Where Confidence ends.
Freedom does not begin,
Where Confinement ends…

Trust does not begin,
Where Mistrust ends.
Disattachment does not begin,
Where Attachment ends…

Hatred does not begin,
Where love ends.
Death does not begin,
Where life ends…

There’s much more to all this,
Shrouded, experienced and concealed…
Transcendental,
In the intermediate…

Not extreme emotion,
But what happens in between,
Makes all the difference,
In the lives we lead………………

2006-05-17T08:03:00.000+05:30

There is no way to ascertain that the other is lying. Or saying the truth. Sometimes it is plain trust. Or plain belief. Or plain mistrust. Or complex disbelief. A dash of partiality maybe. A tinge of self-gain maybe. An attachment of importance to intuition maybe. Driven by goodness. Or maybe hatred. Or maybe simply bcoz we want to, ‘coz we want to.

Whatever it is, a complicated plethora of emotions takes over. And offers us a choice. Take it, or leave it. And we live with what we take. Sometimes we do try not to live, with what we leave. And we succeed. Sometimes we do not.

It is these ‘do not’ times, which bring so many shades to life. ( many out of) All colours on a palette. (many out of) All dishes on a platter.

Oh what would human beings have learnt without ‘do not’ times….?

What would human beings have done without(and even apart from) taking it, or leaving it……..?

that guy

2006-05-14T23:19:00.000+05:30

Open your veil,
Remove your bangles;
Let your hair down,
Stop living in shambles…………

Be a man-
Face the world.
Stop being that guy.
O faceless soul……………

The silhouette of anonymity,
Will not hide you….
Your vulnerable identity,
Lies between me and you……………..

2006-05-13T22:54:00.000+05:30

It was a time, when words unsaid, were said; when feelings unknown, were known; when thoughts unrealistic, were realistic. It was a time when dreams dreamt, were not dreams dreamt. They were precious diamonds, which very delicately and extremely carefully, were strewn on to the necklace of life. Giving the necklace, a life of its own. His life.

And that’s how he lived. Strewing the diamonds.Dreaming the dreams. Not dreaming to strew the necklace. Not strewing the necklace to dream the dreams. It was a time when there were no means and no ends; when there were no beginnings and no full-stops;when there were no doubts and no reasons. He just knew, that what he was doing, was the only thing he was doing. Wanted to do. Was born to do.

And so, his necklace went on growing. The diamonds adeptly bending and re-bending the light as per their own whims. Gleaming. Shining, in the power of dreamt dreams. These dreams, bending time, to keep themselves ever fresh and energized.

So there he was- a diamond necklace. Living. Feeling.Breathing.

And there she was- the resplendent source of all thosediamonds. He dreamt to be adorned around her long, slender, beautiful neck- forever. He woke up.

And the dream became a diamond. It was delicately, carefully, strewn on to the necklace of life.

And then he slept again.

2006-05-10T14:53:00.000+05:30

When the most diplomatic of people, shed their diplomacy even for a moment, then the bare truth is out. Deeply concealed hitherto, in the deep, dark chambers of their mind, the one moment of unguardedness, of instinct, brings it all out. The thought which associated entities had not even suspected to exist within that mind, and which hitherto had been attached zero probability of ever even occurring to that person, comes out. (But hey! That’s what is true diplomacy!) Naked. Blatant. And when the diplomat in question, is not even aware about the lapsus-linguae or the never-intentional breach, then it becomes all the more bizarre. All the more exciting. And when the diplomat in question, does not even know about his/her seasoned diplomat status, then all the more. Bizarre. Exciting. And when the diplomat in answer, does not know it to be a ‘diplomacy’ breach, because he/she is not a ‘diplomat’, then what a shame to the concept of diplomacy.

Catching the virtuoso diplomat off-guard, is a once-in-the-blue-moon phenomenon, after all. Consider this- their BLUE blood, which would generally meander through their (in-normal-people-red arteries-and-blue veins-but-in-diplomats-) all blue-arteries-and-veins, rushed out violently(for that split-second), like the Narmada waters waiting to splash away people’s homes just on an order by the government. Except that here, the government was raw instinct. It was an animal that leapt up and disappeared. Out of ecstasy. Spontaneous complacency. Nevertheless, it struck with its presence. And lingered. Long after the spoonerism. So Long, as to make the no-diplomats, feel their RED blood gurgling through their red arteries-and-blue veins. When there were (unsolicited) thoughts about all-blue arteries-and-blue veins. Re-and-re-and-yet-again-re staining reality. Twisting it forever. Spilling on to virtuality. Long after the blue moon.

Here, I would like to believe, that the sinister form of diplomacy is hypo-criticism. For those who believe both are separate, for their good also it must be stated- the combination of both is most sinister. Hypocrisy- more sinister. Diplomacy- sinister.
Kalyug. Sinisterness runs the world.(As though it is some kind of fuel. Renewable too. Sin. Sinister. Sinisterness…….) Goodness is trying to catch up. But the government holds it back- like tiny Buddhia Singh is held back. Here again, ‘the government’ is nothing but sinisterness. How strange- did you say? Not at all. It is this- sinisterness giving a bright ‘GO’ signal to sinisterness. I wonder if the ‘GO’ must be written in blue. And the ‘STOP’-in red.

2006-05-02T18:13:00.000+05:30

Two agencies
Central to man.
Mind overrides the heart-
Unhappiness…..
And heart overrides the mind-
Happiness……
But then
Is it not
One and the same thing?
The only difference being,
Which one happens first…………

2006-05-02T18:06:00.000+05:30

“Sila, U r too simple. U don't understand."

“Impossible, Nickson. Don't tell me all this. And I have never believed, & will never believe in all such rubbish."

“U have to understand that U, yourself, underestimate yourself. You don't know the effect U have on them."

“Stop talking rubbish. U mean this college has such a dearth of beautiful females, and that these guys can crash their expectations to fall for just a less-than-ordinary looking woman? Where are your senses?"

“Listen Sila. It's not only and only about physical beauty."

Shit. How will I ever make her understand how beautiful she is.

“OK fine. I understand- there are people in this college, not personalities. But then, there are several more attractive personalities. Attractive and beautiful in every way. I barely ever attract attention to myself……believe me, I’m proud of that.”

All my loose-fitting dresses have done exactly that.

“That’s what you think”. U foolish woman. “I know what they think whenever U are talking to them.”

“Now Nickson, don’t tell me I’m not supposed to talk to them.”

“Of course U are supposed to talk to them. Sit with them. Laugh with them. Not knowing what’s in their mind.”

“Oh, shut up Nickson. I very carefully choose the people I associate with. & none of them are like that. & DON’T U DARE question women’s intuition, especially mine, in these matters.”

“OK chill. But U must know whom to avoid, and presently…………”

“Nickson, my friend, I know U are terribly concerned about me. Believe me. I appreciate it. But upto a point. Not after that. The right of decisions lies with me…..I know U know that.”

“Yes Sila, yes. But Sila, please know that you are nonchalant in these matters because U don’t know, & are not willing to realize that, U r no ordinary-looking woman.”

U r stunning coz U don’t know U are.

“I thank U for creating this pleasurable turmoil within me, but I exactly know how ugly I am. And I don’t even care whether I’m beautiful or not. I just want to do my work properly and I care for nothing other than that. Thank U so much but U are only wasting your time and energy.”

“Oh yeah. Of course. The pleasure was mine.”

Why do U like thriving on the thin border between simplicity and foolishness, acceptance and non-acceptance, maturity and immaturity, beauty and divinity?

“And Sila, if U think I’ve been put off, then the answer is no. I’ll keep telling U that U underestimate yourself for your own harm. Nothing else.”

“Nickson, thanks so much……..but….in the future, whenever U think about this matter, it’d be better if U’d care for your own time and energy. Seriously.”

But I care only for U. “OK, bye.”

As she stood at the gate and bade him goodbye, Nickson could not help but think-“Angel.”

I

2006-04-26T21:14:00.000+05:30

Sometimes I wonder......
Who am 'I'.......?
Just matter and body?
That reflection............
gazing back at me?
Or a source of resplendently glowing ,
and ever dynamic,
feelings, emotions,
mind, thoughts and limitless creativity ?

Yeah.
That's more like me.......

The body is but an illusion-
Tomorrow it won't be there.

The mind is eternal-
Shining
In its immortal splendour.......