Friday, October 8, 2010

mahalaya

every year,since i can remember,this day my mom is up at 4.00 am and my dad at around the same time,and i am woken up and my room ,which has always been the largest one,is rearranged,so that the purohit can perform the tarpan ceremony.
meanwhile,i am shifted to the other bed,and i always sleep off again,and then i am reawakened at around 6.15,and wrapped around in a blanket(when in Delhi)and bed sheet(in Calcutta),for the shaanti jaal to be sprinkled on my head,and just so that it doesn't touch my feet.
and this is when i know its puja time
when i was in school,i knew,holidays (though a short one of only 10 days)were around the corner, and my new dresses one each for saptami, ashtami and navami were ready.i knew the menu for ashtami always,it is still the same today,luchi in morning just after the pushpanjali,afternoon khichudi with beguni,or fulkopir pakoda,and night if we still have stomach for it,pulao or paratha,usually the latter sharing from my mothers plate
puja over the years has lost that charm for me,i hardly get excited at the thought -i think of the traffic jams,the noise,the hopelessly large crowds,and the ever competing pandalware;but mahalaya remains special as it did yesterday
forever i have seen my father performing this tarpan,not only as a duty,but because he believes that his parents and forefathers deserve this .he has never ever complained about there faults,or mistakes,he has never judged them.
he believes what they did was right,what they taught was right....
i used to think he was blindly following rituals just for the sake of doing it, but no,he believes
it is his conscious will,
that is why he is a great man,
unlike me who will always complain and blame him for all my shortcomings
puja is here,its time to chose the gods whom we want to worship.....

Saturday, October 2, 2010

a waste

this moment will not last forever
it will last for this one moment
and then be lost in the mists of past
one moment in future will be wasted
in regretting this one moment
two moments of happiness lost for ever.

Saturday, September 25, 2010

rainbow


What can i write
about a rainbow!
A rhyme,a prose,
a sonnet,an ode...

A beauty so rare,
flawless,alive...
Without it would we know
that violet and yellow jive?

That life has more shades
than grey.
That black is actually colors-
revealed only in the day

That once you break it down,
Life will burst through-
in all its pinks,reds , brown
greens,yellow and blue!

Can i write about the rain
making way
for the day end sun,
leaving a memory so exquisite
the riot of colours
and the bow unstrung

For only Ram could string it
across the three worlds
joining them all
in his quest for love

a love unfulfilled
unmentioned , unrecognized
the tragedy of errors
unforgivably politicized

Sita believed
and that sufficed
always waited
always sacrificed

At the end of the rainbow-
she lingered forever
where Ram would reach,
humans, never

Where the raindrops float.
and the sunrays bend
Where colours begin,
and eventually end

the ant and the grasshopper

When we were in class 7th,our english text book was changed from the age old classic Gulmohar reader,to Modern English reader.it was a remarkable change,in the sense that healthy,moralistic reading was suddenly transformed to challenging,and more realistic reading.
it was difficult no doubt,our marks took a nosedive,but English classes became interesting.
has anybody read the original Grimms fairy tales,or the unabridged Hans Anderson,these are definitely not books one would give to children,but they are good read for children-if you get what i say,i mean one would really not present a child with a playboy,but that is exactly the book the child would like to read.
coming back to the point,Modern English was a great book,it opened up contemporary writing to us,along with Keats ,Shelley,and Wordsworth.
For the first time i read the original ant and grasshopper fable..
it was but a few lines,
The ant slogged away all summer,saving food for the winter
the grasshopper idled away
the cruel winter found the grasshopper at the ants doorstep begging for food,
the ant asked-and pray what were you doing during the summer
the grasshopper replied:why i sang,i sang all day
then the ant gave his all time classic answer: why then,go and dance!

a
ll the time before this i had heard many variations of the story;all of them ending sweetly,with the ant forgiving the grasshopper,and sharing his food;some stories even ended predicting grasshopper slogging next summer onwards,having learnt his lesson!
grasshoppers can not slog,they can never become ants,they are different species alltogether
so are human beings,
we are who we are,people dont change

Saturday, September 4, 2010

an ode to my sunglasses

Is it a tear
or a drop of sweat
you saw my hair,
Drenched in this kolkata autumn,
all wet
you saw the drop of sweat,
Begin from the roots of that solitary lock of hair
Flowing down over my eyebrow
the meandering stream
Tired,solemn,narrow
just managing to skim those few hairs,
Without wetting
and then dropping into the eye.
you waited for it
to catch some air..
Then watched it flowing down my cheek,
Picking up speed,as it found the groove along my nose.
Finally kissing my lips...
losing its way
touching my tongue
salt...
you thought you saw everything?
you just saw them flowing down my eyes
you felt them rest
you missed my tears joining them on their quest
know why i wear my shades even in shade....
i tasted it
salt..
it was sweat
after all

Thursday, August 5, 2010

how do i label this?

Then they told me
this was life....
And they watched smiling ...
as i cried out loud,
no tears,no sound,
Just my heart giving that wrenching sound...
They even said
it would make me stronger
Watch us..They said
we have all been through this
I wonder..
Is this true?
Living with this much pain
Every breath an effort,
every breath a strain
living like a root canal treated tooth-dead
but holding,bearing,forced to stand,
thankfully not feeling,
and eventually cracking and then uprooted out of life....
each choice made by other,
life finished by one,
splinted by another
and eventually defragmented
till there is nothing else to take...
yes, they smiled again...
that is life...

A POOR ORIGINAL EFFORT FINALLY!

Two people who can speak unlimited,
Two people who need not speak at all
Two people who can listen unlimited
Two people who may not even call

Two who are always there
in hell and in heaven,
And probably if one goes up and one down below,
they come to earth and say hello!

Time can come in between,
and so do people & space
But like magnets on the two poles of earth
they are always there for each other whatever the case

For friends are made of a different matter,
The atoms and molecules are only for show
For two pure hearts make this relation
And what these hearts are made up of no one will ever know

an ode to rain,life or death!

Life..floats in,unstoppable..
the glorious sunshine that blinds me after that sudden shower....it hurts all my senses but my ears...
I hear the clear crystals falling,
from the parapet..
onto the washed, pitch- black road,
Along the leaking asbestos roofs,dripping on to the plastic tarpaulins covering the urchins eating below....
life drifts in ....
Into the white shirt drenched with not sweat this time,
clinging and chilling the skin burnt in the summer sun,
for a moment i am anesthetized ...
life creeps in...
into my soul...
washing away my worries,my fears..
My dreams even....
just so that i can see new ones...
Dead...
can you imagine eyes that don't blink,
when the raindrops fall on them...
dead...


the last two lines are from a poem by Mr Amit Rai,who is no longer with us,he died of blood cancer at a very young age of 18.
i have tried to complete the poem my way,it is nothing compared to what he wrote in his lifetime.this world missed another poet.......

i finally found the original verses
is it not beautiful
to come billowing down in silk
what your little son would tell
the neighbour's boy if he saw you do it
and he can't
where is your comrade who got pleasure
from making paper dolls
and he who yet felt happy
when any said he needed a shave
parachute trouble
machine gun trouble
dead.
dead. . .can you imagine
eyelids that won't blink
when the raindrops
drops on them. . .

Sunday, May 9, 2010

the seventh horse on ferarri

क्षमा शोभती ऊस भुजंग को ,जिसके पास गरल हो;
उसका क्या जो दंतहीन विषरहित विनीत सरल हो ...
Years back, i memorized this stanza from the famous कुरुक्षेत्र , a poem by Shri Ramdhari
Singh Dinker.
it was so apt..the erstwhile Yudhisthir to talk of penance, charity, truth, duty, commitment, and sacrifice.
but its really not worth it
the world doesn't appreciate it, because u must be someone before you do all this.
Today, if Iraq says we forgive the US of A, for every crime they committed on our soil, who the hell cares!
if the U.S.A does the same then: well , that is forgiveness
One of the bestsellers of our generation, THE MONK WHO SOLD HIS FERRARI , deals with a similar concept, the one i liked better ,though ,was Ravi Subramaniam's version I BOUGHT THE MONK'S FERRARI..
he is quite clear about it..
to give up a Ferrari, u must possess one first.
that includes putting every inch of your body and soul into your work to earn it,
and then you appreciate the value of that Ferrari, it then means the most to you
and then to give it away.....
well the world will notice
it makes a real difference
90% of us live in a dreamy state of work culture, living in boundaries - set and determined by others- without realizing, why we are doing ,what?
Ask us, we say' we are working....very busy'
Ask us TO WHAT? we are foxed..
To what end are we working???
Do we have our Ferrari somewhere in sight, 10 years from now? 20 years from now?
Or do we expect someone to give it to us!
I think our commonest excuse is who needs a Ferrari?
I do not really want to show off!
How many people have a Ferrari anyway,and see they are happy !
Do you think a Ferrari will make you truly happy?
what subtle escapism behind our basic weaknesses, our failures
and all of us sigh each time a Ferrari passes us by...
this is us
who is the worlds greatest philanthropist?
warren buffet , bill gates?
two of the richest men on this earth
between themselves they donated about $80 billion dollars....
why are we appreciating them ?
we honor them because they made that much of a fortune first, they made it themselves, it was theirs to give away
i give to charity too
a mere 100 rs-2000 rs a month,i say well thats good enough,i make less so i give less..
why is my charity anyway less than theirs?
because its not worth it,
Each drop goes into making the ocean they say
but remember, its easier if u have a sea or a river to give..
u get noticed
the seventh horse needs to rise from the 90% populace,find his way out , make a difference
needs to live
not just survive
he fell in love
he said i'll give my life for you
she asked -and what is your life worth anyway?
...............

Saturday, May 1, 2010

who is the seventh horse?

some say (correctly no doubt)that a society can only progress as fast as the slowest,most backward section of it moves ahead.to imagine that .1% of the society has progressed to a level that matches and outmatches the worlds topmost social strata,and therefore believe that indeed the country has advanced,is just that...imagination.which is why india is still developing,a huge mass is actually pulling it down and will keep on doing that till they can make some movement ahead!
to call it the classic indian crab tendency is a fallacy:these are handicapped crabs.they hardly can move themselves from their positions and r just about barely able to get food for themselves,to think they have the energy to pull a good crab down,well we need to rethink.
true they r slowing down the social chariot,like the proverbial seventh horse,but they really dont have the legs to carry themselves forward...
make the horse healthy,it will run again...
otherwise like surya's chariot we 'll miss the bus...
dont give them alms to survive,no charity please:make them strong enough to stand on their feet & rise in life,and believe this, that they will raise lives of everyone,,,,,

Friday, April 30, 2010

the satvaan ghoda described

she(its a mare actually) goes by the name of pankti-- the youngest and the most adamant.she does not follow orders; always tries to run the other way.pankti is aruna's nightmare.just see her trying to run towards the left,just when the other six are turning right.this one horse always delays the surya,and makes him so late everyday,that one day every four years an extra day has to be added.how aruna wishes that lord surya will allow him to put eye covers for pankti,just to make that wild beast more focused...but this child is surya's favorite.
pankti means a queue roughly,and this one horse is so much not a part of the queue.possibly she wants to make her own line!what impudence
all said and done it is he who determines the speed of the sun's chariot.
in Grecian mythology he/she is called philogen, the earth horse.
so much for the fables!
now its our turn....
more later

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

byomkesh and the seventh horse


rajit kapoor(not the rajat kapoor who is doing so well in bheja fry and likes..) is one of my fav. actors.with an immensely forgettable role in the sick slick flick ghulam,he disappeared from public memory.but those who remember byomkesh bakshi,the 23 episode serial which was telecast on the doordarshan,would know the true potential of that man.byomkesh by sardendu ,is one of the finest characters in detection created in literature including English.byomkesh is smart,pragmatic and stunningly brilliant..
he is any-days better than mediocre s like Poirot,Rex stout, Lupin,and matches Father Brown,Saint,and even Holmes any day.set in middle class Calcutta,with all its ramifications,Byomkesh is visible,identifiable and so much the part of the Indian pathos.
Here,even a recovery of a lost purse means a lot,without the purse carrying any secret nuclear program details.
personally i think its next to impossible to recover a lost purse in India,unless u r Somebody.
Byomkesh filled that lacunae ably which chilling intelligence.bengalis sp.the 60's 70's will cringe at the statement that Rajit kapoor played that role with a finesse,and mastery far surpassing the revered Uttam Kumar(Soumitro is not even in the competition,sorry people..brilliance is not his forte),but the statement stands.
anyone who saw the serial,would have mistaken rajit as a typical Bengali middle class intelligent teacher,the kind who has topped university mathematics exams,without much effort,and is doing a govt job.
anyone playing byomkesh again will have to match his smile,which was never dumb,or out of place,his confidence,which was always in place,his gait in that dhuti- unpretentious,just perfect..
well i stayed his fan ever since.and when suraj ka satvaan ghoda was released,i was ecstatic.
it went ahead and won awards at different levels-the parallel movie kind.
in fact i tried to watch the movie once on TV and ended up watching mujse dosti karoge(not the Hritick Roshan one!)which was pretty cool too,100 times better than the Hritick Roshan,Kareena kapoor starrer.Still it was the smartest ,slickest most happening name ever for any hindi movie ever,and somehow it sounded like those smart westerns,super action filled semi historical,semi fabulous movie.the fact that it was a rajit kapoor movie,seemed just apt.
i caught the movie several years later,well ..
i couldn't sit through the whole movie,but rajit was in his true self..
unparalleled...
then i saw him in ghulam,and aamir khan finished him for keeps.(i hate aamir khan-that guy is a fake if ever there was one)
but the name stays
suraj ka satvaan ghoda...
a ode to all that could have been
so lucky that no one has picked such a dashing name already...
to you Mr Rajit kapoor,take a bow!

right from the horse's mouth

today is a sudden holiday...
i like them better than a planned day off,I'm sure others do too.u always have things to do in the latter,unplanned day offs r cool. Sp. if its a bandh, there's just nowhere to go out.thank god for the communists..(so called)they honestly believe that a day of strike will reduce all prices.
P.Chidambaram wrote 10 yrs back,that if only the general public sacrifices a bit on movies,and pays 1 rupee extra per kilo of rice,it will be a rainfall for the farmer and he will jump across the poverty line.he suggested public paying 14 rs/kg of rice from the present 13 rs/kg...
surprise surprise Mr HM..we r now paying 21 rs /kg and still our farmers r committing suicide..not to mention the gen.public which is slowly being drawn into the same vortex of self-destruction,after not being able to afford 21/kg rice.Why do the ministers think that everyone in city is better off than the farmer in the village?that guy has a land,and some work..and the city slicker has dreams..only dreams
anyways
back to what this blog is,or rather why this blog is...
do you really want to know!

Sunday, April 25, 2010

introducing the seventh horse

i'm not really sure why i started this blog.one of my friends,or should i say one friend of mine,these people are so rare these days...asked me to.she thinks i've too much crap in my head,and its jamming,and blocking my sensory perception.so she said its better that i let that crap flow out into the cyberspace,which is mostly filled with anyway,but then it is like a black hole- keeps on collecting all the garbage and sending it(if we r to believe our physicists)into another universe.well well... i hope that parallel universe has a filter,or a trash can to destroy all this rubbish,or else....one day they r going to come and kill us...
coming back to my friend..i never really listen to her ever,and this blog has limited future...
as if someones going to read all this....
so this is it friends,foes,readers..
i wish i will be back with more...
but dont wait..