Once in a lifetime...

The fourth dimension is running away

And I keep losing every single day.

Only half the loop is left ahead

Before it is too late for something to say.

I wonder if life would be live again

Leaving behind this timeless, sanguine lane.

I wonder if that bleary tomorrow would

Address me indefinitely since as a sane.

The preceding year has left me faded

With no color but the one shaded.

Queerly though but all along the summer,

Arenose and adamant, I`d felt steadily aided.

Through that single shade that kept low

I could see distinctly every color of the rainbow.

Through the yellow`s relentless glow, I could

In my eyes, feel the freezing snow.

Slicing through the December fogs without a pause

Left me betwixt myth and reality past a cause.

Sitting alone in the dark often I did wonder

If I could alter the inevitably boundless laws.

Be it the blistering heat or the freezing feet,

Amidst the fragrance of the lightly damped streets,

With the arrival of the tempting eastern breeze,

Every time I could hear the crescent heart beats.

The once utterly obscure, gradually went prime

As I found myself in my own revering shrine.

Only then did I realize what had happened,

Happens once, once in a lifetime…

Illusions...

There`d been a series of long sleepless nights
Each with an aberrant story trailing the former
But watching out wide through those night skies
Dragged me each time a little more towards her

Never had I before heard the silence talking
To the empty fields and the mellow breeze
Nor had I ever seen the street lights glittering
With the scariest shadows under the gregarious trees

The benevolent moon and the glorious stars kept smiling
That every hour dreaded as every moment would pass.
And the night centered by countless felicitous vibes
Evenly feared its fate eventually towards the edge, alas.

For the time`s sake I did beg to my unquenched eyes
To halt the vagrant search for a while
But they kept still throughout my repetitive urges
Chasing the face holding that precious smile.

It was not before tonight when I decided
To challenge the existence of my illogical beliefs,
The impulsive and inclined illusions,
The biased life as of a fallen leaf.

It was not before tonight when I learnt
To befool the heart with these foreseen delusions
It`d now went quite transparent that
It was impossible to avoid her enduring intrusions

The scented illusions gave me their final touch,
Pillowing her virtual lap left behind the real pain
Everything went blank for a moment when the eyes rested
Before they appeared again…

थोड़ी कोशिश...

थोड़ी बारिश, थोड़ी कोशिश, थोड़ी शिद्दत हो गयी
थोड़ी हिम्मत, थोड़ी किस्मत, थोड़ी उल्फत हो गयी |
तुम मिले जो इस तरह तो
थोड़ी चाहत हो गयी |

तनहा से बैठे हम थे ऐसे
पल थे कुछ गुमनाम से
तुम जो बैठे पलकों में कल से
थोड़ी राहत हो गयी |

आज सुबह हँस रही है तेरी इस मुस्कान से
हम दीवाने हो रहे हैं तेरे उस अभिमान पे |
हंसके भी आज जीने की
थोड़ी मोहलत हो गयी |

सूरत जो ऐसी तुम ने थामी
सूरज भी मुरझा गया,
पल यहाँ रोशन हुआ तो
थोड़ी हैरत हो गयी |

कह ना पाए कुछ ना तुमसे
लफ़्ज़ों से लाचार हुए,
देखते ही रह गए बस
ऐसी हालत हो गयी |

साथ चलने तुम लगे भी
और तुमको ये पता नहीं,
साए के संग चलने की भी
थोड़ी आदत हो गयी |

तेरे आगे झुकने लगे जब
दूर तब रहने लगा रब,
और तुमसे क्या कहें अब
थोड़ी जन्नत हो गयी |

इस सुबह के दरम्यां ही
सारी हसरत हो गयी |
रोज़ ऐसी ही सुबह की
थोड़ी मन्नत हो गयी...

The Window...

The only window in my room smiling towards the orient

Took me towards the peerless artistry outside.

In an attempt to reveal the most abstruse,

I did weigh everything around that I eyed.

Hollow nights silently graved away one after the other

With a hope that dawn would fetch the holy showers.

It did welcome the moment graciously,

Leaving behind the surreptitious witching hours.

There did come with the arrival of each sun,

The blissful belief in this cataclysmic prankish mind.

Watching the beatific shades flying in the morning sky,

Everyday did I wander about what I might find

Birds passed by in exhilarating patterns across the horizon,

Some towards the infinite glow and some conversely,

Some did sit by the pane talking in elegantly sharp phones

And some to my surprise came inside deliberately.

They`d pick their favorite spots about the scentless hold,

They`d scroll the eyes around as if they could sense the scopes,

They`d fly their ways out as the sun did lose its delirium

And they`d come back again to challenge all my virtual hopes.

There did come a day when came a distorted wind

Chasing an enchanted intangible aura from the north

That stamped it strong with an agonistic, rude temper

Causing it to tremble furiously back and forth.

A storm followed next, intruding right inside my chamber

Thawing everything that took a stand in its way.

The hours passed in such a hurry that I couldn`t see

That the fliers were ceasing to stay .

The breaths I took went heavier, deeper and colder,

I could feel the vibes around, saturated with silent screams.

I wondered whether this was life

Or was I living an ineffable dream.

The only window in my room smiling towards the orient

Started seeking for the elixir from the yellow sun,

Suddenly when I realized it being inertly closed

And me standing still facing a bright white pigeon...

It`s when...

It`s when you don`t know what to say,

`Cause it`s quite novel to you as well.

It`s when you don`t know whom to say,

`Cause there was no one around when you fell.

It`s when you stuff the pillow into your mouth,

You don`t want the sounds to leave your larynx.

It`s when you grab the sheets, fisting hard

Apprehending that it would alleviate your enduring shiverings.

It`s when you want to be shadowed all the time,

The lights connote the presence you`d gravely armor.

It`s when even a niggling tickle on the door

Would suggest that some soul might have felt the tremor.

It`s when you don`t care about your leaking nose,

Pursuing optimism when there`s nothing else for you to see.

It`s when you fold yourself into an earthworm

Seeking aegis, your forehead touching your knee

It`s when you find your lips unable to utter a single word

But it seems to be the least of all concerns.

It`s when you start believing the fictitious poetic verses

Depicting the wordless pain and the timeless heart-burns.

It`s when your eyes start speaking for you,

Speaking only the truth and not what you want them to.

It`s when the streaming drops seem to be eternal

Enough to wash away the amassing pile of vibes off you.

It`s when you want to live and concurrently die

Hoping your soul to stay and coincidently depart.

It`s when you know how it feels to inanely carry

A heavy heart…

It was hard...

It was hard to see him suffer and yet the worse,

I didn`t know what to talk, how to walk about.

All the time he showed his teeth through the concaved lips,

He talked very little; but the words were `bout to sprout.

He was there `cause she was performing

But she never knew what happened that night,

When we all were busy hunting down the staged females

Sitting among the howling crowd in the dim light.

He always have had this brittle crunch

But ne`er did anyone witness against his finest melody.

Despite all the cacophonous echoes, sitting at his elbow

Got me encountered with his divulged melancholy.

I sought for a drop of rigmarole on his surface

But he sat there idle with a frozen spine,

With the galloping time, held his conscience intact

But the tears eventually spoke from within the shrine.

There she came, dancing boisterously the open stage,

Springing with a felicitous smirk inside her golden hoop.

When she gave her assent to fall in his arms,

The drops desired to emerge out from the vicious loop.

We kept shouting her name into his ears

But nobody did realize that he`d gone numb.

Till the few final minutes he encumbered the grief,

Just refused to break before a group of scum.

They seemed to be the four most merciless minutes,

When alone he endured all the catastrophic pain.

The eyes had started consoling that broken heart,

When she among the crude crew, appeared again.

She was a deceptive destiny and there wasn`t a path,

But he waited long and searched for a scout.

But it was hard to see him suffer and yet the worse,

I didn`t know what to talk, how to walk about...

ऐ अंकुश...

आज इतना क्यों डगमगा रहा है अंकुश,

उस दिये को भी अपने आगोश में जलने दे|

कहने से इतना क्यों डर रहा है अंकुश,

उसके आलोक को अपने सिरे भी तो रहने दे|

कल्पनाओं के साए में रहकर, ऐ अंकुश,

क्यों कर रहा है हक़ीक़त की उपेक्षा|

बहने दे उन लफ़्ज़ों को हवाओं में अंकुश,

बेसब्र होने लगी है पल-दो-पल उनकी अपेक्षा|

उनकी ख़ामोशी भी अब बोलने लगी है अंकुश,

अब तो खुली आँखों से देखना सीख ले|

थोड़ी-थोड़ी देर भी अब होने लगी है अंकुश,

अंधेरे से पहले-पहल ही दीवार भींच ले|

कब तक अपने अश्रु पीता रहेगा, ऐ अंकुश,

कुछ उनके हक़ में गिर भी तो जाने दे|

उनकी पूजा में कब तक त्याग करेगा अंकुश,

उस ख़ुदा को अपनी प्रार्थना सुन भी तो लेने दे|

आज कह रहा हूँ, कल शायद ना कहूँ अंकुश,

आज वज़ह भी है और वाक़या भी|

आज यहाँ मैं हूँ, कल शायद ना रहूं अंकुश,

आज तू भी वहाँ है और वो भी...

इतनी देर ना कर देना कहीं अंकुश,

कि उनकी मंज़िल ही बदलने लगे|

हमसफर तो तेरे सामने ही है अभी अंकुश,

कहीं उनके कदम भी ना डगमगाने लगे|

दबी-दबी सासें लिए क्यों चल रहा है अंकुश,

आज ज़रा सी हिम्मत तू और कर ले|

कहने से इतना क्यों डर रहा है अंकुश,

ज़िंदगी के लिए, ऐ अंकुश, एक आख़री बार मर ले...

The Last Breathe...

The first drop kissed my nose,

I was painting the town of my solitary chimera.

I looked up at the infinite azure, I saw an other,

preceding the avalanche towards my bare forehead.

I wondered how, I wondered why

this serene incessant erstwhile turn suddenly

into an iniquitous, ebullient author

of a malignant physical spirit?

The envision was affronted between the eyes,

as The fracas in the airs around hit my ears,

hard enough to slash me for a while

from the rest of my naïve illusions.

The idle senses sprouted back into the nescient pursuit

of elucidating my recent petition,

when they graded the occluding cognizance,

dusting towards their permanent paralysis.

Swirling around like bubbles, like the million bubbles

were people, some scuffling hard, some flowing still.

Souls seemed to glitter away from these vicious loops

and the blues seemed like the intimate medium.

The eyes wished to witness more, the perception

being conveyed, before they went to their final sleep.

The heart wished for one last beat,

before I took my last breath.

I think of you...

Every time, when the sun smiles at the earth,

I think of you.

Every time, when the wind does dance around,

I think of you.

It didn`t happen at the first sight

But sure did I see a bright light.

With the time waving away, as do t see,

You belong to a so different league.

Every time, when the stars blink to the earth,

I think of you.

Every time, when there is a thunder sound,

I think of you.

Some words might never be spoken,

‘The phrase’ might never be broken.

But every time I`d look around,

I`d find myself on the ground.

Every time, when the clouds have drops to cue,

I think of you.

Every time, when the flowers kiss the autumn hue,

I think of you.

You might never find out this,

That you`ll always be my luckiest bliss.

The way you are, you blow life into my core,

There`s nothing that I demand more.

Every time, when I walk down the empty streets,

I think of you.

Every time, when the heart does need a boon,

I think of you.

The spaces might grow to miles away,

The faces might blur with the years to lay.

But there`d be one for me to bless,

Whether there were a breath more or less.

Somewhere, someday, if at any turn

You find yourself confused and alone,

Remember there`s one standing all along,

Standing there just for you.

Why..

Science has given the ‘because’ for almost every ‘Why’ happening in the universe. This ‘Why’ has been colligated with every life since the day they saw the sun, seldom might`ve given it a thought upon though. I too used to be an indivisible element of this ‘seldom’ race before a few clocks earlier and believe me; life was far too simpler then, far too convincing. Right from my first day at school, ‘Why did you beat him’ till my last day ‘Why did you beat him’, from ‘Why are your shoes not polished’ to ‘Why are you absent in all of your ‘Hindi’ classes and present in all the rest’, from ‘Why earth revolves around the sun’ to ‘Why AIDS virus is the most challenging in its own type’, I`ve been conquering every one of them with a blink of an eye. But today before me is the most awkward and intriguing ‘Why’ that I wish I could skip, but I can`t and every time I think about it the more I get entangled…

Bollywood has been fruitful enough in mentioning all possible ‘How’ to the condition but what about ‘Why’? Don`t they have any province towards those who might face it out of the silver screen? And the biggest dilemma after all these nuisances is that I can`t even figure what exactly is happening to me. Is it my legs that won`t let me sit for a while, suddenly I have started loving non-stop actuation or is it the cold breeze in the hottest days of the year alluding me but none else, driving me to timeless comatose. After all not everybody in this free flown democracy says in a hot May afternoon, “It`s frosty out here”!

It feels so annoying when I figure that it`s the face-wash I`ve brought instead of the hand-wash after the morning show and when I see a pair of sandals on my feet life outside the temple gate that I`ve never bought in life and when my chrome thumbnails show that the link I visit the most isn`t any of my accounts. Even my starting lines on a new Google talk box goes sometimes like,'What do you eat there?' or 'Where do you get your hair cut?'. Just noticed while writing this one, 'Who starts his post with 'Science has given...''. Although I know that these are the symptoms of some, what people say in medical terms, ‘disorder’, but also admit that it`s not under any doctor`s scope to advice me of what to do about it. Sometimes I try asking myself a different class of questions, just for the sake of a change, ‘Am I imagining things?’ or ‘Do I need medical help?’ which surely I know can be answered by somebody and there is no ‘Why’. What a relief!

But ‘Why’ have I suddenly started thinking about ‘it’ so intensely?

And ‘Why’ the hell am I writing and publishing all these? Am I out of my mind?

‘Why’ am I all of sudden trying to work so hard even with simple questions?

Is it just to avoid the vicious ‘Why’ or to achieve "something"?

P.S. Insights are of someone`s, mine are just the words :P

My little "Grasshopper"...

You made me cry, you made me laugh,

You filled your eyes on my behalf,

You made me love, you made me hate,

You came to life to change my fate.

I saw you grow, I saw you fro,

I saw you bite your little toe,

I saw you scream, I saw you dream,

I saw you drain down all the cream.

You made the dolls, you made the calls,

You made me buy from your fancy stalls,

You sat by me when I got ill,

You pricked me every time against my will.

You jumped around, you jumped so sound,

The more you moved then made me ground.

On the rainy days you seemed popper,

I then called you my little "grasshopper".

You stole the sweets, I knew the deeds,

You made me trust your founded creeds.

You grew so fast since your lowest class,

You made some friends and had a blast.

You read some books, you took some notes,

I was always around to make some quotes.

You read so well, you read in stealth,

You ended up making your own wealth.

For the mother`s pride you went away,

I felt so damp that I couldn`t say,

“Every moment, every second, I wished to see

The beautiful thing ever happened to me”.

We meet today, we meet to pray,

I`ve still got things a lot to say.

You`ve given me a new crawler,

You still are my little "grasshopper".

The fear...

The true time was always mine.

But it took so long to shine.

Why didn`t you come a little earlier,

I`d have had buried down a long ago, the ‘fear’.

It had been everywhere I went, everywhere I stayed

Every time I faced, I wished someone to make it fade.

My implore ended the day I saw you, a day to cheer,

When you daunted ‘it’ to knee, with your contemptuous sneer.

P.S. Someone suggested to try out with shorter notes.

A place called home...

I`d made my homepage,

shouting out loud,

the same as when I brought in my first trophy,

when friends cheered, parents felt proud.

It took me a very long time

to open up and share.

Even with a greater closure to the world,

talking life to ‘them’ was still a dare.

‘The infinite web had snapped me out’,

I had an intuition.

But the fantasy world seemed so real

that I just couldn`t avoid my own dilution.

The strings attached easily,

A single click took away all the pain.

The knots floated in empty airs,

but the expressionless prints never did any gain.

I felt flattered while

typing out to the world, as were they.

But when it came to family and friends,

there were seldom words to say.

The clouds got thicker and thicker,

nobody knew when it`d rain.

One day they burst out of large lumps

when I realized myself to be far away from ‘sane’.

I `d made my homepage,

kissing the tempting breeze that had flown.

I`d made my homepage,

but had lost a place to call ‘home’.

The Darkness fell...

Standing dumb in the twilight I was thoughtful

Should I run towards the sun with all my push?

or wait for the darkness to cover me under its tail,

making me even dumber, absolutely helpless?

I`d been under the obtuse glory of the sun

and Knew it wasn`t one of my enemies.

Hadn`t done me any harm lately,

I`d been raised under that yellow umbrella worth prophecies.

I didn`t know what darkness was all about,

The day never did accord the opportunity.

Though I knew it wasn`t as good as the silky green grass

or the tall dense tree in the extreme north saving humanity.

The sands passed by leaving me thoughtful

and equally dumb as I was, standing.

I doubt though whether the heap of daftness had hilled,

eventually looking at the satisfied happy faces, smiling, I stopped thinking.

Laughing, dancing, singing, I passed away delightfully

the chances the day had given, worth twisting.

Meanwhile when others brought themselves safe houses,

I wondered for my own sake what all to bring.

“I – the reason for their smiles” was just a mislead

“All of them were fake and disguised” I never realized

Following their trails happened to be a wrong intuition,

But who knew it`d come that heavily priced.

The sun gradually lost its gleam, descended

My fellow passengers out rightly did rail.

And I stood alone in the middle, still smiling,

As the darkness fell.

And they smiled for 'life'...

One day alone the shore they walked together.
Looking at the horizon, they found birds flying away.
Waves crossed each other, hardly reaching the ground.
Both starred at the other, but knew none what to say.

The evening bid a good bye to the sun,
I wondered if the awaiting night could invite any difference.
Though the heart did beat all round the clock,
the blood still remained blue while passing through the veins.

Their eyes seemed perfect as seen from a distance
unless one gave them a nigher look.
They were as still infants from the mothers` womb
as were from a mile away, the letters of a book.

One had lost the other half of himself
and the 20 year old atheist a blissful hand,
The universe seemed to be the master of empty spaces,
millions of them, but not a single for a peaceful stand.

They laughed through all these years ignoring her,
never realized what in life was she worth.
Only after she`d gone they found she was the candle
ceasing away with each breathe, sailing everyone since her birth.

They`d enjoyed the succor of her not being around
with her negation for each of their actions,
in the windy, merciless and rough weathers
when they`d perform their unleaded transactions.

Why were they now so not laughing with joy
when they knew they`d enjoy an enduring appeasement?
Why were they now plugged with heavy strings of guilt
that the saline from their eyes refused a settlement?

She`d granted them with each of their wishes,
gifted them the light of her days and the dream of her nights,
prayed for the fortitudes that could buy her
even more, but none for her own sprites.

With their ‘author’ gone, they stood archaically numb,
the symphonic notes appeared to be dancing with strife.
As the night defeated the twilight,
curtaining the remorseful trickles, they smiled for their lost ‘life’.

She said it once, I just could not follow...

‘She is not my crush, but a concern indeed’
I wouldn`t dare ever to cause this delate.
Urging myself before my own folks,
I feel like stitching down an infinite chelate.

The reaction was not fast at all when first glimpsed her.
Thoughts were shielded by some porky rumors
As were a million mouths against her,
The path towards my auricles became fumer.

Each of her in-sights got ensued with
Strokes of perplexed and repelling sighs,
Until one evening in the heart of partial gloominess,
I happened to see through her glasses, those adorable infant eyes.

Happiness did prevail the monotonous waves of solitude
When she lit the house with her occult smile.
Why did I regret all of a sudden when I did recall
I wonder, I did sabotage that occult once a while?

I`d heard in person scarce words from her cord,
But over the line she poured alchemy through her innoxious voice.
The allegations were rough, some baseless canards,
And relieving them from my personal caravan not my choice.

Annotations from the end of the eternity sometimes
Made me question myself the most obvious denial.
‘Was I falling for her?’
Those were the times I feared crossing even the dry aisle.

There follows a myriad of questions, each with an answer along,
‘Why do I wish for a protective hand over that fragile thing?’
‘Why do I wish her every engagement to be a perfect drift?’
‘Why do I wish her to smile through every spring?’

She confines my every fall, she doesn`t have an idea.
As every other human has his selfishly vital need,
This self is too, very much concerned about life, as I speak,
‘She is not my crush, but a concern indeed ’.

She said it once, I just could not follow: If you can`t give someone a day worth smiles, you have no right over even a single drop of his/her tears.

आंसू बन कर निकल पड़ा मैं...

आंसू बन कर निकल पड़ा मैं,
एक पतली पाक सी धार बन कर चल पड़ा मैं,
आँखों के कोनों से रास्ता बनाता हुआ
धीरे-धीरे नीचे गिर पड़ा मैं|

अपनी मर्ज़ी का मालिक कभी न बन सका मैं,
दूसरों की नज़रों से दुनिया देखता रहा मैं,
अपने मकसद के बारे में कोई ख़बर नहीं थी इससे पहले कभी
उनकी आँखों की गहराइयों में छिपा सुकून से सोता रहा मैं|

सामने सी आती हुई सर्द हवा का झोंका लुभाया करती थी मुझे,
अपने साथ उड़ने को जैसे बुलाया करती थी मुझे,
नम तो मैं हमेशा से ही रहा हूँ
पर हर बार मानसून के पहले जाने क्यों भिगोया करती थी मुझे|

उत्सुक था वजह जानने के लिए मेरे अस्तित्व की,
पर बताने वाला कोई नहीं मिला कभी|
भयभीत था आने वाले उस अनजान राह से,
पर दिखाने वाला कोई नहीं मिला कभी|

कई आड़े-तिरछे आकारों को पार कर
अचानक एक बड़े ढ़लान पर जा अड़ा|
एक हमशक्ल मुझे मेरा मिला जो
मुझे देखकर मुस्कुराया और फिर मेरे साथ चल पड़ा|

मैंने पुछा उससे 'कौन हो? क्यों हो?'
एक आम अजनबी सरीके मुझे देखा और बोला-
'कोई लिखित इतिहास नहीं है मेरे यहाँ होने की,
कभी हँसते-हँसते तो कभी रोते-बिलखते हूँ मैं निकाला गया'|

इससे पहले की हम धरती को छू पाते,
किसे ने हमारे होने की वजह उनसे पूछ ही लिया|
कुछ ही पलों की आहट थी की
उन्होंने सारी भावनाएँ शब्दों के रूप में उगल दिया|

जीवन रुपी नाट्य के अर्ध भाग में
परदे के खुलते ही रहस्य से रू-ब-रू हो गया|
जिन अभिनेताओं के पंखहीन पंछी सामान हैं,
उनकी भावना-अभिव्यक्ति के लिए मुझे बनाया गया|

A vicious box...

‘Think out of the box’ yelled everyone.
That was the very first time I felt dark clouds all over.
But had no idea about the thunder still to come.
I tried lending my ears to each existing individual there,
melting away my brain, searching a bit space,
seeking the answers, fighting tough to win the race.

Choice was not one of the virtues,
decision was not in a mood to appear.
Though I didn’t appreciate the cries and hues,
all I had with me was a frequently directed leer.
Sounds appeared to be like nails and my ears magnet,
but my eyes became still and the world seemed to be stagnant.

Exasperation caused my natural state to collapse
and emerge as a new but altered albatross.
Fate has its own purpose bringing me in perhaps
but didn`t I deserve to have at least one toss?
To write in my book, little pieces of my own lyrics?
To spring out strong from my own ashes as the phoenix!

Still I tried to resonate with the older version,
Only time witnessed my conversion from an asset to a liability.
There was one when I aimed high and wished becoming a surgeon
but why did I change my mind and suddenly became a casualty?
I found a way out and behind me held tight all the locks.
Breathing away as I turned around,I found a yet bigger box!

Think again...

Some American analysts believe that the education systems in India and China are far more advanced than theirs while some others deny the fact as a baseless and hypothetic theory. The former support their assumption on the basis of intellectual, innovative and talented brains while the later oppose the fact based on their visits in the two countries in the mid 20th century. They support their point saying “Indians still follow the traditional way of teaching using chalks and black-boards even in some reputed universities. The educational system is also affected by the Govt. policies, social systems and regional confinement.”

"We have already taken some steps that are building the foundation for a 21st century education system here in America, one that will allow us to compete with China and India and everybody else all around the world" US president Barack Obama stated. The topic was raised in a T.V. show seeking advices from experts, questions from people and aiming for the overall analysis of the present education system. But why did the president himself respond to a regular T.V. show broadcasted twice every week so seriously?

Are social systems and regional confinement that big threat for the US educational system competing against those of the developing countries? Are the chalks and the black-boards giving tough competition to the modern teaching techniques? Are the dialogue deliverers still finding India/China to be the same as they found in the early decades of the previous centuries?

Questions continue to appear in one form or another, some under debate, some unanswered, some ignored, some yet to appear but the thing that is clearly derived is that the opinions of each individual are at least considered in those countries and not just a group of old people, aged twice the average age group are the decision makers.

The podium is dedicated to a MLA in his late forties, a typical hypocrite, a deep conservative type as well as a chief guest to the cultural event of the college. He arrives late, an hour or two while the students who wait after a whole tiresome year for this event maintain the decorum till their patience sustains. In his ‘two minute’ speech he talks of the developmental areas he is involved in (sucking as much money as his pocket can support), and the various others he is going to get involved in (his future money-hive).

Saving lines from the political back lifts, why doesn`t such possible renovation- thoughts occur to the men sitting around those finely polished tables? Why can`t they show a little concern for the people who placed them in those positions, after standing in long queues hoping for a better and a bright future. If those countries can give it a ‘hard shot’ then why can`t we give just a ‘shot’? Are they really proud of the current systems or are they deaf enough to hear the students scream in front of the camera or blind enough to see the hanging bodies every month at some college or the other? Or is it really the time to put these old men behind and bring out some young minds out?

The developed countries and some developing ones have already opted and they`ve already got some ripen fruits then why can`t we? Is it really worth the time we spend electing them all along? It`s time to think again. It`s time to change.

The garden dried and the gardener died...

I fell sick one day, there was no one around.
‘Fate was calling me to itself’ that was the only heard sound.
One moment I felt my white beard
and the next, cough followed as an unorganized herd.

There was no one to fetch me a glass of water.
I wished I could have strong body parts back then.
Should I laugh or cry that over my head I found a shelter?
A dog with its tail between the legs was no different than my lane.

Rewinding my tape back to the brighter past
took me to the garden where I sowed the seeds once.
It pricked my heart deep every time it occurred,
that those seeds had grown up into my reputed sons.

They worked hard as hell and earned a million as gold,
shook hands with very similar hands every day,
all from a different garden and all equally reputed.
Every night they did come home but didn`t know what to say.

I`d talk to my garden seriously and she would smile,
I`d spend my whole day looking at the clear sky.
Sometimes I`d tell her about the infinitely growing tress,
but being a mother she`d reply ‘It`s all a lie’.

I worked hard to earn them the best bread;
and made sure that they get the additional butter.
During the night I`d kept them close,
although they were adults then, still I eyed narrowly on the shutter.

That was the time, I played tree as well
but I never gave up on my gardener.
I always watched him from the top as he grew old
till the day he left as does a visitor.

Time passed and they got their own gardens.
The race for more gold pinnacled eventually,
their status in the society made them so occupied that
they let go their gardener as time demanded practically.

They didn`t once glanced down from that height.
One day the garden dried burying all her screams and tears inside.
The gardener was at once all alone by himself
and wished there were no more seed to slide.

He sought for shelter, they gave him the roof,
he sought for food, they provided all the bread.
When he sought for a little time, they all refused.
After playing his part, he ought not a single drop to shed.

He fell sick one day, there was no one around.
‘Fate was calling him to itself’ that was the only heard sound.
One moment he felt his white beard
and the next, there was no more future he might have feared.

बड़ा हो गया हूँ...

लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ,
सोचने लगा हूँ, समझने लगा हूँ,
आँखों से अपनी दुनिया देखने लगा हूँ,
शब्द तो बड़े अच्छे थे उनके पर उनका अर्थ शायद थोड़ा अलग था...

जिनकी ऊँगली पकड़ कर चलना सीखा था कभी,
बार-बार गिरकर भी दोबारा खड़ा होना सीखा,
अब उनका हाथ पकड़ने लग गया हूँ
और लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

याद भी नहीं हैं वो पहले शब्द,
जिन्हें सुनने के लिए घंटों सामने बैठे रहते|
अब उन्ही शब्दों को ऊँचा बोलने लग गया हूँ,
और लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

आँखों में आंसू तो तब भी थे उनके जब
पहली बार स्कूल में अकेले छोड़ा था मुझे|
अब लगता है जैसे उन आंसुओं की वजह बदलने लग गया हूँ
और लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

दो साल की उम्र में बीमार होना मेरा एक सजा थी उनके लिए
रात भर खुली आँखों के साथ सोते थे|
और आज भी जब मैं उन्हें रात भर सोने नहीं देता हूँ
तो लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

पट्टियाँ तो मात्र एक बहाना हुआ करती थी,
आस-पास होने के लिए बस एक वजह की तलाश रहती थी उन्हें|
आज जब उनसे दूर रहने की वजह सोचना सीख गया हूँ
तो लोग कहते हैं काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

पैसे तो तब भी नहीं थे मेरे पास,
पर कभी ज़रुरत नहीं पड़ी उनके अस्तित्व के बारे में सोचने की|
पर जब अपने ही घर चोरी करने लगा,
तब लोग कहने लगे काफी बड़ा हो गया हूँ|

इतना सोचने के बाद अचानक मैं स्तब्ध सा रह गया हूँ
भले ही जीवन के मायने कुछ बदलते हुए से दिख रहे हैं आज...
मैं तो आज भी उस पुराने वाले कल में जीना चाहता हूँ,
हमेशा दो साल का ही रहना चाहता हूँ|

It`s not civil...

I did n`t even know the question the answer of which I was looking for,
I did n`t even know the destination I was moving for,
I did n`t even know the name I was living for,
Before you came in.

I used to sleep in peace,
I used to have a normal heart beat,
I used to blink my eyes every few seconds,
Before you came in.

I never cared for emotions,
I never gave a call unless it`s urgent,
I never had shared,
Before you came in.

I always have to be financially active,
I always have to run and run and run,
I always have to say 'Yes',
After you came in.

I found my eyes red staring deep into the computer screen,
I found my hair style changed,
I found my words so soft and irritating,
After you came in.

I don`t want these renovations in me
I just wanna be what I used to be,
It`s not civil to ask a girl to leave,
It`s just a common sense if you see what I see.

Foul Play...

The sun was giving away blissful gestures

when they got out into the field.

The air waved smoothly, welcoming the life,

they unpaused after a long lead.

Mesmerized by the gloom, they started moving

through the woods, passing the springs.

After the world saw the black day,

there remained a few open strings.

The path looked different, scary and opaque;

their conscience didn`t help this time either.

She`d given them the time

to stop the upcoming unbearable glitter.

She gave the signs, waited long enough,

she melted the ice, sliced the glaciers,

she killed some fishes, removed some animals,

she did her best to show that she was the most precious.

They did have eyes but never opened them to watch,

did have fancy ears but who cared to listen to the fears.

All they watched was the sand leaking out of the pool,

all they heard were the laughs disguised to shadow the tears.

Though they were the birds who survived the fire,

and were happy to be breathing.

But they didn`t find any other heart beating

or and other soul healing.

It was only then they actually realized what had happened.

She`d replied again and this time it was hard.

Only when they`d continued screaming and stopped listening,

she had chosen to pick up this card.

She shed fire from the sky,

flooded the lands, made sure there left no air.

It was the single species that caused

but the result, the world had to share.

Now they wanted someone to hear from,

there were no gags then.

They remember the days when they were all alone,

but at least they did have a pen.

Suddenly they ceased to walk `cause there was no food,

couldn`t talk `cause there was no water.

They starred at each other for one last time.

The path to survival seemed to be just another murder.

This was her turn to laugh,

laugh at the helplessness once she had to face.

Only when we after a million seconds understood

that that was the end of the human race.

Speak up...

Do you know that an average human being be it from any village in India or somewhere extreme north or right in the middle of an island of solitude or some awing paradise somewhere in the pacific in an average state of mind does 80% of self talking. Whether be it the million pin-holes the Govt. responses, the evergreen energy issues, the even more happening green house issues, the domestic intra or inter family issues, issues concerning relations currently unacceptable to the society, issues related to an intelligent forecast about the year 2012 being the last of the earth`s history and its aftermath (very common among school children), overlapping waves between friends and other issues that I failed to specify, people need to talk about and they consciously or unconsciously find their ‘selves’ the most resonant to talk to.

Some of us might find it disturbing to realize this fact, as for most of the mortals this fact passes unnoticed throughout their lives and they never feel a block wind to think about. Some of us might also refer it as to any abnormality or a diseased condition that requires medical or psychiatric help. But what to do when the doctor and the psychiatrist are also suffering from the same ‘disorder’!

When related to a college student in India the scenario is worse than ‘just worse’. Almost 80% of students of a regular college with a decent internet facility are way away from the real world. Spending their days and nights in front of the TFT`s and LCD`s, watching millions of hours worth of a thousand T.V series, some less millions of hours worth of movies, living a monotonously progressing virtual life online and a couple of hours worth of reading before the exams (the story you used earlier to get your personal box), they`ve confined themselves to a mere7000 words a day against an average of 16000 words for those lacking the entertainment packed box. They`ve reduced their sleep, their appetite and crucially their social strings with family and friends.

Just think of those short telephonic conversations with your dad. Some answers regarding your studies going very well, your recent trip to Nainital or Amritsar or Shimla, your finances. And that`s all. You might remember his birthday every year but have you ever realized that he turned 52 this year. His shoulders have turned a little more loosely, his sight a little more weak, his hair a little greyer but have you ever talked about anything else but you. Your old man also needs a bit of humor, a bit more of care as you do. He`d never tell about the hardships he`s facing today, but are you blind! Can`t you sense what his wrinkled face is trying to say!

Indian fathers spend their time worth life upbringing their children, protecting them even from the slightest hardship taking away all the sorrows that nature set for you. They`d never discuss with you the severity of life they face every day trying to shine with your finest delightful future. They might not speak up their minds saying they ‘love you’, they don`t want emotions to be the boulders in your path to success. But this doesn`t mean that they lack or hate emotions. They express their love by executing parental duties but with such care that the geNext is blind to see. And what this geNext does in return is ‘teach them how to behave in front of their friends’. Their love still persists, I wonder how ‘the trainer becomes the trainee’ and doesn`t utter a single word.

No doubt there still happens a community that respects their precursors, but the question that candles up next is ‘do they love them’? If yes then ‘why can’t they express ’? There are no less than a million in this country who call themselves the most ferocious players in the battle for ‘love’ that they don`t shake even an inch turning their backs on ‘who’ loved them for years for ‘whom’ they loved (or may be attracted to) since the last few weeks. Attracted much to the culture of the west, they developed love for the pizzas, the electronic world, the latest fashion, but not a bit of it for their own blood. There are hunks in this country, call themselves educated, don`t understand a slice of the national language and feel pride not knowing it. A different issues though but still a matter of concern. They gained from the west the practices that maintain a reputed status but if they are that educated and that ‘not blind’ why can`t they see that people from the untwined west still love their old generation and never hesitate a wing ‘speaking up’.

There is never an end to the ‘enlightening defects’, so why not cut the crap and think the real. It`s never that late. Can virtual lives ever extend an arm at the time of your last breathe? Can ‘they’ wait that long to hear those few words that they`d wishes all their lives while you`ve already made a separate family for yourself? 'Words' are the only stars that shine when you are distantly away from ‘them’, that comes back every night when the darkness prevails, that assures ‘them’ that you are somewhere near their hearts when they need you the most, with an extended hand that keeps awake the ‘life in their lives’.

Isn`t it awkward...

A girl I saw today, I`ve seen her before

But not with the centers I`ve had that sand.

Insomnia followed that night, nerves jumped,

Only then I decided to write, emotions pumped

With hefty waves, no sight of nigh land.

Was rehearsing a song amidst all, standing queasy;

Her throat gave out blister pulses at times, when she smiled.

Bearing all others` fake grins, she muffled like a shoal petal,

Amongst a flock of beagles, she remained as the cutest fetal,

I whilst exercising work felt as going away whiled.

I`d heard a lot `bout, pictured a quite rough portrait,

Till date had just flown along with the wind, never had liked her.

‘Attitude’ being the top priority, haziness followed the next;

Exaggeratedly though I civil led her the prime suspect

But today that portrait appeared as a grievous cloud of blur.

Behind the glasses were her eyes, the most selfless ones;

Got no idea if it was a change or I`d ignored them earlier.

The way she said ‘sorry’ after each of her vocal commotion

Made me one of the gold fishes among the king of the ocean,

And indeed the waters now appeared very clear.

Rays met, expressions commuted, greetings delivered

Through the winter air, but as a tree I stood still.

Winds streamed past, echoed the sounds round the room;

There she smiled once and bowed the bliss before her gloom.

I blinked a bit late, only then could feel the chill.

She looked towards the ground lost in some thought

When a hair fell over her right lash, couldn`t be any prettier.

She stuck it behind her ear and looked back for a while

And she phoenixed back with confidence, her own charming style;

But in my visionary limelight still glowed her fairy hair.

On my way out, I eyed one last stare, no racy intention,

I could see her eye-balls moving as my feet, rayed bluer.

Was she trying to convey or it`s just my illusion?

Was it just another heart beat or hers into me intrusion?

Took the air away with the breaths growing deeper.

We don`t talk that usual, I couldn`t directly ask her what!

Considering one another just a formality,

I`m not a friend yet, nor though a lover,

I`m an atheist thus not a very good follower,

But this was the day I acquired morality.

With a ceding gesture I kneel ever since, before

A conjectural ‘no one’ for the existing ‘no one’.

It was necessary...

Experiment: Random Observation

Aim: To make a girl unlock the door of a train belonging to the Indian Railways.

Pre-environmental conditions:-

(1) The train had just arrived at some random unexpectedly small, rarely lightened railway station with 1 minute halt time somewhere in between Howrah and Tatanagar.

(2) It was the third hour of a chilly December morning, things are not clearly visible.

(3) Despite being a Sunday, subtracting the daily morning passengers comprising mainly of the 9 to 5 working class, there was a substantial number of heads seen in platform no. 2.

(4) Both the adjacent doors were packed with passengers going up and down, the only option available was the door just in front on us. Unfortunately it was locked.

(5) We asked the only girl sitting sleeplessly in the side lower berth right next to out targeted locked door. All the other preferable male passengers in the vicinity were in their deep mid-sleep.

Procedure followed by the girl eventually:-

(1) She looked shocked as if Brad Pitt himself had asked her to marry him.

(2) After a 10 second delivery of that surprised look, she finally took some action. She managed to place every streak of her hair in the right placed.

(3) Another 10 seconds had past. We knocked the door even harder to make sure that she is well awake from her wedding plans with Brad. She finally rose from her seat.

(4) As soon as we got a slight ray of hope, she started managing her clothing, her kurta pulled to her knee length, her overcoat pulled down accordingly to match well with the dress.

(5) 10 more seconds gone. The rush from others doors was reduced considerably. We looked out for our adjacent doors but some invisible force changed our mind and we decided to give her one more chance to save the entire female community to be called dumb.

(6) Finally she made her first attempt before we knew it was supposed to be the last when she opened her mouth, ‘How does this thing work?’ She was not a science student; we derived, and as she was not aware of the fact that sound could rarely travel through a 3 inch thick glass, moreover even if it did, a person fully loaded in an early December dawn break could never hear a word.

(7) After that she stood there like a goat who didn’t know what to eat next. That’s the moment when we resolved that is was indeed a goat. We looked out for the adjacent doors which were now opened but busy.

(8) I gave her a last optimistic look before leaving the front door, still goatish! The train started gaining pace when we hurried. No female creature with us caused us any apologizing eyes innocent as a baby. I felt like screaming immaturely ‘God she is cute’.

(9) I couldn`t do anything else other than smile even though was not in a very humorous mood after I was awaken up early that morning after a late hour sleep. But we definitely arrived at our conclusion after we`d given her a decent time to save the tag over her community.

Conclusions:-

(1) Cute girls are Dumb.

(2) It`s hard to deliver abrasive words to such girls no matter how crucially they deserve them.

I realized...

Realization of the present had been a regular event in my life lately. There is not a single day when I don`t get lost into deep thoughts, leaving everything else in a trash aside for a moment, wasting my precious time which earlier I used to utilize doing nothing. I spend enormous amount of time sitting in front of the computer screen with an earphone into my ears, just staring an opened webpage, no clicks, no chats, no typing, absolutely nothing. I have no idea about the tracks enlisted in the playlist. Sometimes the playlist gets over and the media player stops, I still keep looking into the screen, expressionless, until someone enters into my room and shakes me vigorously.

It feels like ‘The paranormal activity’ when I get back my senses back from the heavy ‘thoughtful sessions’. Ever since I`d left home, there had been a number of new dramas being started in life, none of them being the ‘happy ending melodious’ type. People either disappeared constantly or opened apart so widely that their physical presence became unperceived. I tried searching for a person with whom I could share, but failed each time. Secrets started accumulating inside, some of them being really dark that my soulless shadow sometimes felt scared.

Today I find myself quite comfortable talking to machines more than man. They never reply back though but are really safe as are leak-proof unless the reason includes some kind of human intrusion. I remember first time I blogged, it was not meant to renovate myself into a serious blogger, covering recent controversies, pointing out black holes in our education system or maintaining a personal dairy pubic to all. It was just an immature attempt to recall some of the qualities of people around me that could make them smile a little, which it did.

I made some more attempts though all got ruined in a way or other. But it gave me a dump-yard to lose some of the dark ones and experiences that I couldn`t share with a bunch of human beings. I figured out complexities in one`s personal file that observing or reading from another file, analyzing it and present a report is not of question today. That`s why the machines. And that`s how I eliminated ‘choking to death due to over loading of data inside me’ as a possible reason for my demise.

Today I start my day not with a small pray to God but getting a level up in ‘Mafia Wars’! I open my eyes, get my glasses over my nose, un-sleep my laptop, and get online; the next 30 minutes or so in front of screen and ultimately get off the bed. And the following day I spend seeking for gifts, boosts, energy packs or a couple of level-ups. As long as other activities are concerned, I utilize my time again in front of the screen with unfinished poems, articles, stories, mainly from personal experience like the present one. But the important thing is that, if I`m wrong by any chance, getting my life into fishy hell, I find nobody to stop me `cause what I find in every other room in this institute is nothing but just another ‘me’.

Unmarked wounds...

We shouted and shouted loud but nobody listened,

they kept blabbering but we with utter composure, attended,

but behind their backs when we conspired,

they kept thinking they were the kings and we the surrendered.

We ran and we ran fast but our hands nobody held.

Some of us trembled and hit a sudden halt,

the rest never stopped to look behind through the broken links;

but they kept blabbering, adding to the unmarked wounds some more salt.

We talked very little but as we did, every time we talked work;

never knew each other`s life, knowing oneself was out of the static.

confusions aroused and were solved right away within the community,

but they never stopped considering themselves as the most dynamic.

We played but every time we played to win;

stepping on each others` heads, aimed for the uncommon goals;

Directing us to the right heads, smash them,

they indeed succeeded proving us to be their soles.

We ate and we ate worse than a beggar,

strayed here and there, didn`t have anyone to ask for from;

while we ate the inedible, the gross,

with the acknowledgements, they toured from London to Paris to Rome.

We slept some nights but we slept like a kitten;

Papers over the face, books over the chest made breathing difficult,

read forty pages in a night`s time for a test the next day

and still they announced from each direction ‘Irregular study is your fault’.

We showed our faced 14 times of the 20 and they made us public,

transferred the entire lifestyle to the old people back home,

threw us at places, taking out sheer pleasure out of the act

as if from a bunny-sack, we were the pieces of foam.

‘You have indecent behavior’ they crowed for the full four years

One way or the other, never missed a chance to screw up our lives,

but the day we managed to create our own financial support,

the shameless creatures were the first in the ‘feel proud’ row.

All these years, we kept shouting but nobody listened,

they kept blabbering but we with utter composure, attended.

‘Swallow and vomit’ was the only lesson they ever taught,

And still they call themselves with dignity ‘The Heads of Departments’.

He had an aim...

We see a bunch a people of various stereotypes- a female child with a baby in her hands, old man with long and dirty grey beard, man with a decent dress-up that includes a tie and a black hand bag, woman with a huge bag and a child holding her hands, a young woman with a yellow slip in her hands (may be she couldn't speak) and many more- at our doorsteps in a hope that that they get something they needed in some form or another. But most of them are sent back without even opening the door, without even listening to them. Some of us even bring the word ‘Police’ in between in case it helps.

These people are treated this way mainly because they usually interrupt in some of the unavoidable jobs being done by the very punctual people inside. People can’t afford to miss the break-up scene of a couple in a daily soap neither some of them can lose a life or two in their favorite computer game. It’s a fact that mainly of these door-knockers are fake, but this has become a common conscience that all of them fall in the same category.

Later this morning, a door knock interrupted my deep sound sleep. I lazily managed to have a glance at the clock hanging just over me- 11:30 it said. Dad was out to his office, Mom probably in her class with some science geeks and my sister in her own class- I was the one who should have turned the knob. But it was too soon for me to get out of the bed on a cloudy December morning as it seemed outside the window- there was no considerable noise except that knock with a constant frequency. I calculated all sorts of possible people who might be the door knocker, eventually arrived at the conclusion that he mustn’t be any important person, any possibility of ‘he’ being a beautiful ‘she’ who could spend the rest of her life with a geek like me was out of question. So I ignored that knock till it stopped permanently which I regretted later.

In the evening I heard about what actually happened earlier this morning. The knock was not exclusive on my door, similar cases were observed by other people in the locality as well. That was a young boy in his early teenage asking for financial help from people so that he could complete his education. He told people that his mother, who worked at people’s house to earn her livelihood, had somehow managed to get him into a private school so that unlike his father, he might not end up being a drunkard and eventually end up his life under a running train. He further told people that he also did his level best to give her a hand by selling groundnuts in the evening. He also had a genuine identity card and a written permission from his school to try his luck with the people of India, spending their precious time doing precious things- enjoying a daily soap break-up with the whole family (children less than 12 included), while he had an exam the next day. People called his school to confirm that he was not of the regular type of knockers. His principle gave detailed information about his life, and supported him with his ‘eagerness to learn’ as his strength and his ‘hope’ from people like ‘us’ as his optimism. This helped him raise some amount at least from those who opened their front doors.

Later that evening I sacrificed some of my precious lifetime to think. That was the time when I realized that I was actually thinking and it broke one of my greatest misconceptions that I used to ‘think’ all through my life. Things were definitely moving around me; air, motion pictures, sound waves, living beings, but I was sure I couldn`t feel any of those, I felt everything inside me to be absolutely motionless all of a sudden. Though that didn`t last too long but I could feel thoughts coming in, going out of my tiny brain.

I realized the potential barrier faced by that category and eventually developed a sense of respect of those young ignited minds. I also realized my life to be merely aimless despite having all sorts of comfort and opportunities at various stages of life which I’d ignored one after another. Now whenever I remember that incident, each time I hate myself more.