• English Poetry

    The One

    Life oh life!
     Mysterious are it’s ways
     How and when
     Who knows and who can say
     It doesn’t matter
     How brilliantly the light shines
     Is and was
     Separated by a moment, literally a matter of time
     If only, only if
     There just could be a last summer of song
     Chances passed around
     To maybe correct things, all that went wrong
     Oh! Cruel tide
     It favours not and it waits for none
     This much is certain
     Everyone is in the queue, just unaware about the (next) one
  • Musings & Short Stories

    Where the Mind is Without Fear

    As I write this post on the occassion of Independence Day, the patriotic fervour has been higher than I have ever seen in my conscious years. In an age where the distance between thought to tweet is 140 characters and an entire nation can be bridged with seven degrees of WhatsApp group separation; thoughts and opinions can travel….fast.

    69 long years since India became an independent nation. Time enough for an entire generation to pass. Today’s senior citizens are not those who fought during the Independence movement. We have a Prime Minister who was born in independent India. For a large part of the population today the mention of Vande Matram evokes images of the Bharat Bala produced A.R. Rahman rendered Maa Tujhe Salaam and not the original lyrics penned by
    Bankim Chandra Chatterjee that used to float liltingly over the air waves every morning and perhaps still do.

    The symbols of Digital India’s pride are different from that of the previous generation. The binding glue of today’s India is the mobile phone. If there is one asset that is availble in a majority of the 200 million households which have 996 million mobile subscribers it is the mobile phone and with 280 million of them connected to the internet!

    No other medium today can promise this kind of reach or penetration. The various messengers services have woven a web where dissemination of information happens real time as it happens.

    Rural-urban, literate-illiterate, the haves- the havenots, young-old there is no chasm that is not bridged today in terms of a common platform of presence. Today, more that ever before the average Indian speaks his mind, airs his opinions and views to the world at large, he tweets, blogs, creates and forwards WhatsApp messages. Today support is not silent, anonymity is not a required condition for going anti-establishment or for that matter anti anything.

    The growing confidence of being one of the faces in the crowd and not afraid of being seen as one. Being a part of an uprising or a movement much akin to the crowds that were a part of the independence movement. Only difference, they now do it with a few key punches or screen touches on their phones. In the comfort of their homes or while on the move.

    The dream of using the mobile as a vehicle for upliftment, progress, betterment (pick a term of your choice) is not a distant one. The first step of embracing change has been taken and how!!

    Today, more than ever before, we really can understand the meaning of Rabindranath Tagore’s immortal words and maybe, just maybe, hope to make our tryst with destiny! To close I quote the poem that inspired this post.

    Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high
    Where knowledge is free
    Where the world has not been broken up into fragments
    By narrow domestic walls
    Where words come out from the depth of truth
    Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection
    Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way
    Into the dreary desert sand of dead habit
    Where the mind is led forward by thee
    Into ever-widening thought and action
    Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake

    Gurudev Rabindranath Tagore

    Wishing that all of us find and revel in the greatest independence there can be… THE FREE MIND!!

  • Musings & Short Stories

    A Tale of Two Cities

    “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had ­everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present peri­od, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.”

    Charles Dickens

    This is a new tale of two cities. One with phoenix like capabilities and the other with a mythical lineage. This is the story of the path they traversed over the past 10 years or so. This is the tale of opportunities lost. This is the tale of Deadly and Greedgaon.

    Liberalisation was doing its job and money was coming in thick and fast. All the key economic indicators were looking up. Multinationals were setting up shop big time. These were the times when “outsourcing” was the buzz word and not a bad word.

    The real estate hawks had got it right. The waiting game had paid off. All the farmland that they had picked up was about yield rich dividends not of the green kind but of the concrete kind.

    In Greedgaon tall, shiny glass buildings came up and so did swanky high rise apartments, the cycle of prosperity had been kicked.

    The BPOs took the bait because they had worked on keeping the cost base low and the MNCs saw virtue in picking up the false ceilinged, centrally air-conditioned replicas of where they came from. So out went the socially and politically correct Rajendra Places, Nehru Places and the business districts moved out of Deadly and into Greedgaon.

    The BPOs and MNCs both needed people and people is not a thing this nation was short of then or is now for that matter.

    Well, all these people needed a place to stay and since Deadly and Greedgaon were not “well connected” in those days Greedgaon became the better option.

    The offices and the apartments had come up with the people moving in the malls sprang up too.

    There was of course one teeny-weeny problem there was still no connectivity between Deadly and Greedgaon save the Multiple Gaddhas Road or as it is known the MG Road. For people who had moved to Greedgaon roads continued to be something like science fiction i.e. possible, but only in the future, one that is still awaited.

    The powers that be were enamoured by infrastructure and aided by all the trips the netas were making to neighbouring China decided it was time for the Deadly Greedgaon Expressway. Now have they not told you that “Good things come to those who wait; All good things take some time” and time they did take.

    In the meanwhile, roads or no roads, connectivity or no connectivity the hundreds of thousands who had joined workforce at the plush offices in Greedgaon had to get to work and get around. The money was good and loans came easy it was time to give another sector a boom. The upwardly mobile executives bought their shiny sedans and monstrous SUVs and started zipping around.

    Now we had large offices, lots of apartments, huge malls, thousands of cars but still no roads.

    Time passed, more offices, more apartments, more malls and more cars came up and the good thing that all were waiting the Deadly Greedgaon Expressway finally opened.

    The expressway was world class with its wide metalled roads and neat signages, there was of course one minor problem. The expressway went over practically every important road (the reference is to physical places where they are supposed to exist!) of Greedgaon.

    Now, while Greedgaon was busy becoming the Million-hole City, Deadly was attempting another rise from the ashes. The Metro started, roads widened, more flyovers came up and more people could get to the Greedgaon Tollgate faster obviously in their faster, high powered fuel guzzlers. And then the people waited, no not for good things but just to reach wherever they wanted to in Greedgaon.

    The bottomline, over the years the BPOs/MNCs benefitted from the low costs; the real estate guys made big money selling, leasing, developing; the local farmers turned cubby hole millionaires; the car companies made great fortune selling cars; the oil companies too kept afloat since people with their BS IV compliant cars were now consuming more fuel for travelling the same distance.

    Deadly on the other hand was scheduled to host “The Games” and so the forward thinking government declared that it intended to transform Deadly into a world-class city.

    Thus began Deadly’s travails. The Madame at the helm of the affairs like all things Deadly deemed that improving public transport was key.

    On the agenda amongst several noble things was converting the fleet of buses into green machines albeit prodded, nudged and eventually kicked by the judiciary before some part of it could be implemented. First the orders and then the deliveries were delayed oh yeah we must remember “Good things come to those who wait”.

    Next on the list was a master-stroke called BRT(Bus Rapid Transit) that perhaps single handedly causes more misery to more people at any given instant than anything known.

    Honourable mention for the almost Tughlaq-esque beautification drive that involved uprooting the existing lampposts and replacing them with new ones or uprooting existing signposts and replacing them with new ones or digging up the existing footpaths and relaying them and oh did i forget to mention the re-colouring of all traffic poles.

    The citizens through this all have gone through a melee of juxtaposed emotions patient yet irate, brazen yet accommodating, troubled but at times impressed and disgusted yet hopeful.

    To conclude a few lines from the epic…

    “I see a beautiful city and a brilliant people rising from this abyss, and, in their struggles to be truly free, in their triumphs and defeats, through long years to come, I see the evil of this time and of the previous time of which this is the natural birth, gradually making expiation for it­self and wearing out.”

  • English Poetry

    Give Change a Chance

    The first drops of rain
     May never assure a season of plenty
     Scant as they maybe 
     They most always give new life a chance
     Who ever knew what a new day can bring
     
     Strange how hope transcends
     The inevitability of the darkness to follow
     
     Why then do we dread
     That which we do not know
     Who knows an honest attempt
     May ring flowery promises hollow
     
     Hit a fresh note, strike a different key
     Swing to the rhythm of a brand new beat
     Even two steps forward and one step back
     When taken together can form a dance
     
    Go on give change a chance!
  • English Poetry

    Just Another Headline

    Incessant blabber, opinions dime a dozen
     Millions more watch glued to the tube
     Ah yes the new age makes it interactive
     They say revolutions have taken shape through the networks
     
     It ain't gonna change one says in his Saturday night stupor
     We must do something says another
     The others nod and quickly get back to their tipples
     Well destinies of nations have been decided in elite drawing rooms
     
     The show is over, so is the party
     Each gets back to his life
     Resilience they say, but we all know its not
     The reality speaks through the lives of the millions
     
    Someday its going to prick
     Someday I will stand up for something
     Someday will see the awakening of the collective conscience
     Someday, yes someday, I tell myself
     
     She gets up goes to work
     Her reality has not changed
     Oh yes, there are a million people talking about it
     Talking about a revolution
     
     Its a new day
     Talk was cheap and memories short
     Alone in her battle, she marches on
     Fighting everyday not to become
     Just another headline
  • English Poetry

    Halcyon Days

    Float back to the days...
    
    Where the days were long and the nights were longer
    Times when we were young and the nights were younger
     
    To the days where our thoughts were free
     Times when the breeze was cool and so were we!
     
    Bottles emptied through the night
     A minor argument, a big fight
     
    Things that went wrong and those that went right
     Endless movies and highway rides
    
     Guys who spent hours in front of the mirror admiring their looks
     Guys who slept through the night while others sat with their books
     
    Guys who topped, yet others who flopped
     It all comes back when you walk down that lane
    
     A drink in your hand without bothering who pays
     Beautiful memories……..those Halcyon Days
  • Hindi Poetry | कविताएँ

    साया

    Image may contain: tree, outdoor and nature, text that says "साया सुधाम २०२०"
    लिखने की चाहत तो बहुत है
    जाने क्यों कलम साथ नहीं
    जज़्बात सियाही से लिखे लफ़्ज़ नहीं
    मेरे बेलगाम बहते अश्क़ बयां कर रहें हैं
    
    अभी तो बैठे थे फ़िलहाल ही लगता है
    पलट गयी दुनिया कैसे ये मालूम नहीं
    जाने वाले की आहट भी सुनी नहीं
    सर पे से अचानक साया हठ गया है
    
    वो जो ज़ुबान पे आ के लौट गयी वो बातें बाक़ी है
    अब कहने का मौक़ा कभी मिलेगा नहीं
    हाय वक़्त रहते क्यों कहा नहीं
    कुछ दिन से ये सोच सताती है
    
    अल्फ़ाज़ बुनता हूँ मगर उधड़ जाते हैं
    ख़यालों जितना उन में वज़न नहीं
    डर भी है ये विरासत कहीं खोए नहीं
    मगर यक़ीन-ए-पासबाँ भी मज़बूत है
    
    लिखने की चाहत तो बहुत है
    जाने क्यों कलम साथ नहीं
    जज़्बात सियाही से लिखे लफ़्ज़ नहीं
    मेरे बेलगाम बहते अश्क़ बयां कर रहें हैं
  • Hindi Poetry | कविताएँ

    रिश्ता-ए-उम्मीद

    उम्र भर निभे ऐसी ही दोस्ती हो
     कहाँ और किस किताब में लिखा है
     गरज़ और ग़ुरूर के बाटों के बीच
     हर रिश्ता कभी न कभी पिसा है
    
     कुछ कही तो अक्सर अनकही
     आदतों हरकतों का भी असर बड़ा है
     कहते एक दूसरे को लोग कम मगर
     ख़ुशहाल रिश्ते के आढ़े अरमान खड़ा है
    
     बुरी आदत है ये उम्मीद रखने की
     कमबख़्त कौन कभी इस पे खरा उतरा है
     आइने में खड़े शक्स को भी ज़रा टटोलो
     कौन सा वादा उसने भी कभी पूरा किया है
  • Hindi Poetry | कविताएँ

    विश्वास का दीया

    खुली हवा है वो आज़ादी की
     शीतल करे जो जब मध्धम चले
    एक ओर जो हो हावी तो बने आँधी
     कैसे तूफ़ानों में कोई दीया जले
    
     अलगाव की चिंगारी कहीं दामन ना लगे
     मिल के बढ़ने के लिए दिल भी बड़े रखने होंगे
     दूर अभी हैं वो मंज़िलें जहाँ ख़ुशहाली मिले
     कटे तने से चलने से कैसे ये रास्ते तय होंगे
    
     इरादे नेक वही जो अमल में आएँ
     कथनी और करनी को अब मिलाना है
     तेरे मेरे के ये फ़ासले चलो मिल मिटाएँ
     विश्वास लेना देना नहीं कमाना है
  • Hindi Poetry | कविताएँ

    फिर मिलते हैं

    कोई तो है जहाँ
     जिधर तू आबाद है
     इधर तो तेरी हँसी
     तेरी बातें तेरी याद है
     मिलते होंगे वहाँ पर भी
     सालगिरह के मुबारक तराने
     अपने भी मिल गए होंगे
     दोस्त कुछ नए पुराने
     जितनी हमको है आती
     तुम्हें भी तो आती होगी
     फ़िलहाल तो इतना यक़ीन है
     तुम से फिर मुलाक़ात होगी