When they are hurt,
Those who weep.
The value of love,
They know, its deep.
When I look not,
These emotions creep.
And off my feet,
Me they sweep.
Because of her,
I leap in faith.
And miles to go,
Before I sleep.
(Dedicated the the Late ADA)
Friday, April 30, 2010
The Prophecy
Strong winds and gale,
Yet she, hearty and hale.
Betrayed by love,
This little white dove,
A display of gut,
She, always the tough nut.
Touched upon the shores of hell,
Depths unknown by the deepest well.
Yet she stood firm and straight,
Owned her mistakes without blaming fate.
Love and hate, all blind confusion,
Nothing she did would relieve the tension.
The hurt she had borne,
Apart she was torn.
Yet not a word of blame,
After all, this was no game.
Not a stain on the canvas of posterity,
For today, she saw life with clarity.
She took it all in her stride.
For no one cared if she wept or cried.
Or so she thought.
But again, such was the case not.
A road had been built,
Rising above the dirt and the filth.
The path had been laid,
Attention to it, I wish she had paid.
And to this very riddle,
Her fate shall play second fiddle.
(Dedicated to KJ)
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Pain...
nHaving that power that you don't want to use. Knowing something you didn't want to. Hearing the very thing you'd wished you wouldn't have to. Knowing that you would hear what you didn't want to. Knowing that you would come to it. Knowing that it was right. Like the soothsayer predicting his own death. Knowing that the undesirable will happen. Knowing that you are helpless against it. Knowing that pain is coming. Knowing that it will meet you on the very path on which you are walking. Knowing and still walking on it. Knowing pain when you see it. Knowing that you twitch with it. Knowing yourself. As you are. As things are. Knowing yourself without yourself. The bane of human intelligence. The Tipping Point.
By the way...
The only reason most modern systems of government, like democracy, don't work, is because they can't. Power should always be bestowed to the one who doesn't want it. Because then he can't misuse it. Democracy, the middle path, the welfare state, can't do that. Even in the dynastic monarchy, you have an outside chance. But with our systems, there is none.
Friday, July 10, 2009
By the way...
The fundamental problem with exams is that they force you to subject yourself to others' opinions about you and then uphold them as though they actually matter... The biggest losers, then, are not those who fare badly in this test, but those who are labelled successful; for they learn to relegate their self-respect to others.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Its Complicated
Thats what over half of all Facebook users' relationship status reads. Some do it for a laugh. Some for a rhyme and very few for a genuine reason. Its Complicated.
He claims to like her. She claims to be undecided. He is definitely not in love. She definitely does not want love. He is worried that he might not find another one. She is worried she didnt find the other one. He is hiding the fact that he comes from Jain ancestors. She wishes he came from Jain ancestors. He isint sure if he can live without her. She is sure she can live with him. He calls her wishing he didnt have to. She makes him call her wishing she didnt have to.
He is sure he cant live with her. She isint. He dosent want to cheat. She wishes she could. He is writing this for her. She wouldn't have access to read this. He knows this. She maybe dosen't.
Its Complicated.
He claims to like her. She claims to be undecided. He is definitely not in love. She definitely does not want love. He is worried that he might not find another one. She is worried she didnt find the other one. He is hiding the fact that he comes from Jain ancestors. She wishes he came from Jain ancestors. He isint sure if he can live without her. She is sure she can live with him. He calls her wishing he didnt have to. She makes him call her wishing she didnt have to.
He is sure he cant live with her. She isint. He dosent want to cheat. She wishes she could. He is writing this for her. She wouldn't have access to read this. He knows this. She maybe dosen't.
Its Complicated.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
One package deal...
One moment you have everything; and the next, nothing. All gone. Thats how the cycle works. You win some, you lose some. Some dreams, some memories. One package deal. Life.
One moment you detest it; the next moment you crave it. With all your heart. With all your desire drawn into it. Life's little twists. Give up and listen. One package deal. Life.
You are jumping happy one day and torn apart the next. Shocked. Shell-shocked. As though a dementor came over you. And took you apart piece by piece. Devoid of all hope, you scamper to safety, to books, to alcohol, to the shadows. You fear the very light you lighted yesterday. You twitch to the very sounds to which you danced yesterday. You wish death. One package deal. Life.
You jump one moment and then you fall. Go up like a rocket and then drop like a stone. Zigzag. Sudden. One package deal. Life.
At those times when everything seems to end, when death becomes an elusive friend, when life is terrifying; hold on. For every darkest hour of dawn, there is a bright morning just round the corner.
One moment you detest it; the next moment you crave it. With all your heart. With all your desire drawn into it. Life's little twists. Give up and listen. One package deal. Life.
You are jumping happy one day and torn apart the next. Shocked. Shell-shocked. As though a dementor came over you. And took you apart piece by piece. Devoid of all hope, you scamper to safety, to books, to alcohol, to the shadows. You fear the very light you lighted yesterday. You twitch to the very sounds to which you danced yesterday. You wish death. One package deal. Life.
You jump one moment and then you fall. Go up like a rocket and then drop like a stone. Zigzag. Sudden. One package deal. Life.
At those times when everything seems to end, when death becomes an elusive friend, when life is terrifying; hold on. For every darkest hour of dawn, there is a bright morning just round the corner.
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
A little bit of life...
As the medley of thoughts crowd my head, I wonder if I can actually write it out. But then, I realize, any more dillying-dallying and I wont ever write this. So at 4am in the morning, I head for a shower, summing up in my head the events in the past four nights (the days have mostly been wasted in classes, eating and sleep). 1 fight, 2 birthdays, 5 movies and loads of quotable quotes.
But today did it - The Shawshank Redemption. As Andy Dufresne's stoic struggle to reclaim his life brings wonder to my weary eyes, I remember the old adage - When the going gets tough, the tough get going. As my father used to say, "You haven't lived life until you've gone through struggle. As long as you have food in your tummy and clothes on you, you'll never stretch yourself to your potential." Andy didn't do anything typically great, but he was a great man. Men can be great for a variety of reasons. Ask Linda Goodman of the twelve sun signs and she'll prove that each one is great. Every one has a little magic in themselves. Andy was great in a sense that is incomprehensible to us in our daily lives. But he was a hero in a way. So was Brooks and so was Red.
For the past few nights, as I lie awake wondering, I am not looking for salvation. I am not looking for the material pleasure that most seem to seek. I am looking for the reason to be awake, to be living. When I get high, its not because I want to forget something that I no longer have. It is not because I am in a rut, its because I want to get out of one. I wish to attain my destiny, my potential, my eventual calling. Anything less is out of the question - superfluous, fleeting and as Goenkaji says, 'Ephemeral'. Its just not enough.
John Bridger tells Charlie in 'The Italian Job', " There are two kinds of thieves; Those that steal to enrich their lives and those that steal to define theirs." I have my own take on it "There are two kinds of people; Those that live to utilise their lives and those that live to complete it. Don't be the latter."
But how. With typical Libran swinging-back-and-forth, I wear confusion as second skin. Whats my calling? Where am I headed? Where am I meant to be? I don't know yet. Thats one fact. I am not hungry right now. Thats another. Steve Jobs gave me one advice - Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish. Same thing my dad told me. Same thing Jacob Kominski said when Danny Kaye ran away from home or quit the play, albeit with a different choice of words. Wisdom of the ages I can say. But where does it take me. To this - Maybe my charted path is different, maybe my route is different, maybe its the path less taken. Maybe, never taken. But it is my path. And no one can feel the rain on my skin but me. Theres no confusion about that. Characteristic Libran clarity.
But today did it - The Shawshank Redemption. As Andy Dufresne's stoic struggle to reclaim his life brings wonder to my weary eyes, I remember the old adage - When the going gets tough, the tough get going. As my father used to say, "You haven't lived life until you've gone through struggle. As long as you have food in your tummy and clothes on you, you'll never stretch yourself to your potential." Andy didn't do anything typically great, but he was a great man. Men can be great for a variety of reasons. Ask Linda Goodman of the twelve sun signs and she'll prove that each one is great. Every one has a little magic in themselves. Andy was great in a sense that is incomprehensible to us in our daily lives. But he was a hero in a way. So was Brooks and so was Red.
For the past few nights, as I lie awake wondering, I am not looking for salvation. I am not looking for the material pleasure that most seem to seek. I am looking for the reason to be awake, to be living. When I get high, its not because I want to forget something that I no longer have. It is not because I am in a rut, its because I want to get out of one. I wish to attain my destiny, my potential, my eventual calling. Anything less is out of the question - superfluous, fleeting and as Goenkaji says, 'Ephemeral'. Its just not enough.
John Bridger tells Charlie in 'The Italian Job', " There are two kinds of thieves; Those that steal to enrich their lives and those that steal to define theirs." I have my own take on it "There are two kinds of people; Those that live to utilise their lives and those that live to complete it. Don't be the latter."
But how. With typical Libran swinging-back-and-forth, I wear confusion as second skin. Whats my calling? Where am I headed? Where am I meant to be? I don't know yet. Thats one fact. I am not hungry right now. Thats another. Steve Jobs gave me one advice - Stay Hungry, Stay Foolish. Same thing my dad told me. Same thing Jacob Kominski said when Danny Kaye ran away from home or quit the play, albeit with a different choice of words. Wisdom of the ages I can say. But where does it take me. To this - Maybe my charted path is different, maybe my route is different, maybe its the path less taken. Maybe, never taken. But it is my path. And no one can feel the rain on my skin but me. Theres no confusion about that. Characteristic Libran clarity.
Friday, January 16, 2009
Six Random Things
Chain letters are a waste of time. You can either delete them or delete them. But a chain blog is an inviting proposition. Especially if it makes you think. Think about yourself. Yes! Thats what Harshad asked for....
Lifting the 'rules' straight from Harshad's blog...
1. I shall write 6 random things, and 'tag' six people to continue this
2. They shall proceed to write six random things, and 'tag' six random people
3. They shall intimate me when done.
The Random Six Things
1. I am fat and ugly but not as much as everyone else.
2. I love Oscar Wilde quotes. - "Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong."
3. I wish to do everything in this lifetime. So that I can be lazy in the next.
4. My favourite drink is plain water.
5. I smile when something is going wrong.
6. This is my first ever blog post where I have used so many capital ' I 's.
The six people I 'tag' are
Nikhilesh Sharma
Shashikant Goel
Deepak Laddha
Pranav Awasthi
Amod Verma
Srinivas Vaze
Lifting the 'rules' straight from Harshad's blog...
1. I shall write 6 random things, and 'tag' six people to continue this
2. They shall proceed to write six random things, and 'tag' six random people
3. They shall intimate me when done.
The Random Six Things
1. I am fat and ugly but not as much as everyone else.
2. I love Oscar Wilde quotes. - "Whenever people agree with me I always feel I must be wrong."
3. I wish to do everything in this lifetime. So that I can be lazy in the next.
4. My favourite drink is plain water.
5. I smile when something is going wrong.
6. This is my first ever blog post where I have used so many capital ' I 's.
The six people I 'tag' are
Nikhilesh Sharma
Shashikant Goel
Deepak Laddha
Pranav Awasthi
Amod Verma
Srinivas Vaze
Monday, January 12, 2009
Your Truth or Mine...
'There are questions and there are answers. And then, there is the right answer.'
-Anonymous
Its not often in one's life that a guy tells you that religion is logical and proceeds to explain you the pure logic. Its not often that you end up understanding what this guy is talking and seem bewildered at the simplicity of it all. Its not often that you can actually understand and appreciate religion(dharma). The question is - which dharma?
Many centuries ago, in India, dharma was different from 'sect'(sampradaya). There wasn't a Hindu dharma or a Muslim dharma. There was one dharma - The law of nature. Fire burns; burning is its dharma, its nature. Its that simple.
Its not often that you end up not talking for days. Its not often that sit down to know yourself. Its not often that you learn something and feel that others should learn it too. Its not often that you encounter something thats simple yet not even close to easy. What?
An art. A technique. A tool. The right answer. Vipassana. Re-discovered by Siddharth Gautam in the 5th century B.C. and passed on to the masses. Lost to India about five hundred years later yet preserved by a line of disciples in adjoining Burma. Brought back to India in the 20th century by a gentleman named Satyanarayan Goenka. A loan reimbursed. A prophecy fulfilled.
The course starts off with an uncomplicated explanation of 'Knowledge of the truth' - Goenkaji says, " When you hear something or read it, you only believe that it is the truth. When you do and experience something, you know that it is the truth." The rest, as they say, is history.
-Anonymous
Its not often in one's life that a guy tells you that religion is logical and proceeds to explain you the pure logic. Its not often that you end up understanding what this guy is talking and seem bewildered at the simplicity of it all. Its not often that you can actually understand and appreciate religion(dharma). The question is - which dharma?
Many centuries ago, in India, dharma was different from 'sect'(sampradaya). There wasn't a Hindu dharma or a Muslim dharma. There was one dharma - The law of nature. Fire burns; burning is its dharma, its nature. Its that simple.
Its not often that you end up not talking for days. Its not often that sit down to know yourself. Its not often that you learn something and feel that others should learn it too. Its not often that you encounter something thats simple yet not even close to easy. What?
An art. A technique. A tool. The right answer. Vipassana. Re-discovered by Siddharth Gautam in the 5th century B.C. and passed on to the masses. Lost to India about five hundred years later yet preserved by a line of disciples in adjoining Burma. Brought back to India in the 20th century by a gentleman named Satyanarayan Goenka. A loan reimbursed. A prophecy fulfilled.
The course starts off with an uncomplicated explanation of 'Knowledge of the truth' - Goenkaji says, " When you hear something or read it, you only believe that it is the truth. When you do and experience something, you know that it is the truth." The rest, as they say, is history.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
When.....
When did you last laugh so much that you had to hold your sides?
When did you last hold a little hand and felt close to God?
When did you last look at the sky and try to count the stars?
When did you last stop all work and go watch a play?
When did you last learn something new and feel on top of the world?
When did you last slow down to savour the finer things of life?
When did you last live life?
I have deadlines to meet. I have work to do. I am too grown up to be this irresponsible.I am too busy. I am past this. I just can't.
Yes, you're right. You can't.
"When we recall the past, we usually find that it is the simplest things - not the great occasions - that in retrospect give off the greatest glow of happiness."
Bob Hope
When did you last hold a little hand and felt close to God?
When did you last look at the sky and try to count the stars?
When did you last stop all work and go watch a play?
When did you last learn something new and feel on top of the world?
When did you last slow down to savour the finer things of life?
When did you last live life?
I have deadlines to meet. I have work to do. I am too grown up to be this irresponsible.I am too busy. I am past this. I just can't.
Yes, you're right. You can't.
"When we recall the past, we usually find that it is the simplest things - not the great occasions - that in retrospect give off the greatest glow of happiness."
Bob Hope
Monday, December 8, 2008
The darkest hour...
Me: "What is that one thing that you would change if you could relive your entire life?"
Her: "Nothing, absolutely nothing. I'm happy with what I am, with what I've become."
And I could hear glass break. That sound in my ears was too loud to be mistaken. I went dumb.
Her: "What happened? Why are you silent?"
Me: "You know; If I had asked a stranger the same question, she would have said the same thing."
Her: "What does that mean?"
Me: "Nothing."
The glass was broken. Maybe I could pick up the pieces and join them back. But I didnt want to go into the trouble.
Why is glass so brittle?
Why do I let it break?
Why didn't I catch it?
Am I butter-fingers?
Such doubts crowd your mind. And you turn. And toss. You can't sleep. You aren't gonna do anything productive while awake. You are stuck. You are broke. You haven't broken up. But you aren't committed anymore. You don't know where you are going. You don't want to go anywhere. You don't wanna stay. You are at odds. With yourself. This is one of those times that men turn either philosopher or alcoholic. This is one of those times that you wake up. That darkest hour of the night before dawn. This is the final hurdle. This is the time that there is hope. That things will get better. From the south pole, every direction is north. It can only get better. If you get past this. IF.
Tomorrow remains to be seen. Today is what it is. The present. A Present.
Her: "Nothing, absolutely nothing. I'm happy with what I am, with what I've become."
And I could hear glass break. That sound in my ears was too loud to be mistaken. I went dumb.
Her: "What happened? Why are you silent?"
Me: "You know; If I had asked a stranger the same question, she would have said the same thing."
Her: "What does that mean?"
Me: "Nothing."
The glass was broken. Maybe I could pick up the pieces and join them back. But I didnt want to go into the trouble.
Why is glass so brittle?
Why do I let it break?
Why didn't I catch it?
Am I butter-fingers?
Such doubts crowd your mind. And you turn. And toss. You can't sleep. You aren't gonna do anything productive while awake. You are stuck. You are broke. You haven't broken up. But you aren't committed anymore. You don't know where you are going. You don't want to go anywhere. You don't wanna stay. You are at odds. With yourself. This is one of those times that men turn either philosopher or alcoholic. This is one of those times that you wake up. That darkest hour of the night before dawn. This is the final hurdle. This is the time that there is hope. That things will get better. From the south pole, every direction is north. It can only get better. If you get past this. IF.
Tomorrow remains to be seen. Today is what it is. The present. A Present.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Who am I.....
Five o'clock in the morning and you've been awake 2 hours. You look out of the balcony. "It'll be light soon", you reassure yourself, "and I won't be alone anymore." Its tough being alone even when the others are just sleeping in the room next to you. Somehow, loneliness is unbearable. It stretches your patience and sense of self to the max. After some time, you crave human contact. WHY???
She rolls her eyes from you to your neighbor. Your neighbor smiles and calls out to her. He absolutely adores her; loves her. He reaches out and takes her in his arms. You smile. She's looking at you now. Like a baby looks at everything. Like every baby looks at everything. You wish the moment lasted forever. You click a snap of her. She's cute; she's beautiful; she's the prettiest girl that you have seen. You love her too. And yet you can bear to have her in another's arms. What is it that this girl of a few months arouses in you? WHAT???
You love change. You like new clothes. You like new cars. You even like new friends. You like travelling. You have been to cities, towns and villages. You have been to the hills, the valleys and the lakes. Yet you go again. Back to those simple things. The same pristine spring that flows from the mountain. The same woods where you used to bring your spouse when she wasn't your spouse. You marvel at the origin of these simple pleasures. You marvel at who could have designed them. WHO???
Query + Curiousity = Queriousity.
She rolls her eyes from you to your neighbor. Your neighbor smiles and calls out to her. He absolutely adores her; loves her. He reaches out and takes her in his arms. You smile. She's looking at you now. Like a baby looks at everything. Like every baby looks at everything. You wish the moment lasted forever. You click a snap of her. She's cute; she's beautiful; she's the prettiest girl that you have seen. You love her too. And yet you can bear to have her in another's arms. What is it that this girl of a few months arouses in you? WHAT???
You love change. You like new clothes. You like new cars. You even like new friends. You like travelling. You have been to cities, towns and villages. You have been to the hills, the valleys and the lakes. Yet you go again. Back to those simple things. The same pristine spring that flows from the mountain. The same woods where you used to bring your spouse when she wasn't your spouse. You marvel at the origin of these simple pleasures. You marvel at who could have designed them. WHO???
Query + Curiousity = Queriousity.
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