Wednesday, December 15, 2010

you there

dabble, lean, utter

Deep within this shit,I thought that there would be hope.
I thought that tomorrow when the sun would set I would rise
Rise again with the rising sun
I would dabble with affairs that I had lost 
Lost in deep affirmative sorrows
My body agreed to lean on the shoulders of my hope
And hope agreed not to utter what was known
All my life I turned out to be a man 
who with time agreed not to be a man
A man when it was needed the most
A soul which pleaded most
Like a ghoul over the window
like a spectre over the sheet
like that aching beat
that guttural sounds,that muffled shrieks
That I had tried to suffocate,to annex
all but in vain
was but a stain
of a past that I could neither remember nor forget
A wish that I could neither desire
nor destroy
cause all that had been left in me was a man 
but yet not a man

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

The day is yours

"The enthusiasm is killing me." howled the kid down the room.
His mother too was jumping in leaps and bounds.
This day was no ordinary day and her gesture was no ordinary one.
This was the day when her son had FINALLY passed the 10th class.
Yes and that too after three unsuccessful attempts.
There was a party lined up today.
The whole family had been gearing up for a together at Atif's home.
It was not that Atif was not mischievous.
Yes,he was like every second boy.
But what he was bad at was studies.
It wasn't that he never studied,infact he gave in more efforts than the regular pupils.
But still he was never able to make the cut.
Three consecutive flunks shatter a young boy who hardly understands and who can even hardly tell.

Things like these happen most of the times.
Either we or our siblings or our friends or maybe our children have been in the shoes of Atif.
Imagine Atif.
Studying hard.Planning even harder.
With friends he too might plan a long summer vacation after the break.
He too would have dreams.

I had a chat with Atif once.
I could feel the pain in his voice.
I remember the last time when his result came and I could hear his choked voice on the other end of the phone.
It was me whom he trusted the most and so he had asked me to check his result.
When I told him that he had failed he just asked me to recheck the result and said that it couldn't be true.
That was the biggest panic that has ever set in me.I could visualise the immediate outcome.
From that time to the time I reached his home I just wished that he din't do anything miserable.
I called his parents and just asked them to be with him.
Times like these are so fragile and life so vulnerable.
I am sometimes like nowadays enamoured of Atif.
I keep down weighing for my failures.
But when I see the world from Atif's view my failures have been nothing.
Imagine knowing that there is one more year wherein you can't do anything else but the same old process.
You don't even know what went wrong the last time.
You GAVE your best everytime.
You would continue to do so even now,but till when??
Add to this the shame when you meet your friends.
The humiliation your neighbours shower you with.

I have always said one thing-
Even at 3 am at night if their is some one who would take you with open arms is your family.
Be THE family,the treasure children want at these times.
Show them that you trust them.
Tell Atif that there is still life it was just a bloody exam and nothing else.
Remember that Atif is  a lot more broken about this than any one else in the whole world.
It was his result after all.
I too have not been a  standing pillar for Atif.
Misunderstanding his failing as his notoriety.

Let Atif see the light of the day.
Hopefully today is the party Atif had planned for,since three long excruciating years.
Let's raise a toast for Atif.
The day is yours.

Something on the same lines:-  in the mind of a dyslexic

Every 100 minutes another teenager will commit suicide.
Suicide is the second leading cause of death among people between the ages of 14 and 25 in the United States.
The following statistics were taken from a recent survey of college and high school students by the CDC:
Twenty-seven percent of high school students said they had "thought seriously" about killing themselves during the past year. Eight percent said they had actually tried to kill themselves.
Ten percent of U.S. college students admitted serious thoughts about suicide. Seven percent had a suicide plan.
More than 30,000 Americans commit suicide each year, and 5,000 of these people are teenage
Read more:

Thousands of children commit suicide all over the world just because of flunking in exams.
The time has come for change

Written for 3ww
The words being:-gesture, immediate, treasure

Photo Courtsey:

Sanitarium IIby =aR-Ka


Monday, November 8, 2010

my 2 cents

A sandstorm hit my view as I clobbered my own failures.
I knew that somehow I had agreed mutually with my self that even at my wit's end that this road was now a dead end.
But somehow I looked back at those grapes turned sour.
A constant question had kept popping since long but I had always hushed it away.
Today I just HAD to give the answer.
The solution was to either live the barricaded life engulfed in a cyst of my own existence or fight back for my greater self.
Greater self: The word itself resonates as a satirical joke on myself.
Where has been your greater self?
Let me rephrase it.
Has there ever been a greater self for you,Harsha?
You are nothing but the outcome of the inflated expectations that people have said just cause they had to say something.You are indeed that balloon that has always thrived on waste hot air.
You are that pimp outside a brothel who is projected as THE PIMP but in fact is a prostitute for THE prostitues.
What are you,Harsha.
You don't even have a proper ego.
Do you remember that jab that you had on your jaws in your first ear.
Does your blood still curdle at the thought of that fight.
Do you still know the taste of the blood that was trickling down your nose then.
DO you remember your failures Harsha.
Have you ever thought of replying back to those silent assassins,those vampires that have been sucking your pride since I don't know when.
Have you thought of living a life you want and even more a life you deserved.
When failures miraged you,you just stopped trying for those things.
Harsha tell me one major achievement that you can boast of.

Tell me a single milestone in your life that you can say you have put your blood and grit in.
Have you ever felt sweat trickling down your forehead,veins throbbing hard in your arms and eyes tired but still sparkling with the glow of success.

When Harsha when you would be the Harsha you want to be.
When would you stop this crap-a-homa.
When would you love your work.
When would you live your life.

I put 2 options in front of you:

First one being what all do.
Start loving your work.Start making starts.Get into the groove.
Respect everything cause with enough grit this is also the place where I have seen marvels happen.

And 2nd the path less travelled-Have faith,not in god but in your abilities,master perfection,infuse passion,be deaf not to the people but more importantly to your self.Kill that under achieving bastard in you.
And I dare you and beg you at the same time be that change that you have only admired.

One last question Harsha doesn't your blood still boil,you Bastard?


Photo Courtsey:

to fight or notby ~anatheme

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Curiosity killed the cat-Did it

Why am I not curious anymore.
I know not to be curious means not to have the desire to live.
But still if people had not been curious of the apple falling,or the earth moving or the fire burning,things would have never ever moved on.
But still am not curious nowadays.
Am anchored in my thoughts for actions that never burn.
Sadly,its not only me but a lot of prototypes I see everyday have lost the nerve of being curious.
Look at yourself,how many times do you actually stop at a construction site to see how the crane works.
Or how many times are you actually curious to read about that author's roots.
Or how many times you have actually felt to call the maitre d' of the hotel and ask him how he has cooked the food.
Not being curious is like going into an unstated limbo.

Is it either that we know that,we know all or is it the shame that moves with the act of being curious that is to ask.
Let's all not be duds.
We have got to accept that we don't know everything.
And there is no harming in trying to know.
To live is to be curious.

Life is just all about being curious,
about why we perform why we don't
about why we love why we don't
about how the sun sets how seasons won't.

Remember curiosity never killed the cat it was just that the cat committed suicide as it had nothing to do.

See,am curious what you people think:)


Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Dude,that's what exactly am made for

Social media,bah humbug.
Thats what I should blurt out.
But I too am one of the addicts out there.

But this media is the place that has been throwing quite a few stark realisations straight on my face since a long time.

I am not being me or basically am not being what I intend to be but rather what I succumb to be.

The whole profile pages,the albums,the wall to wall talks are all showing me people who are finally giving way to eccentrities.
There are people who are going on the craziest of the trips.
There are my very own friends who have been embarking on the most bizarre professions that I had dreamed of,
or more properly felt in awe of.

When I turn my neck around I see people who are going to become lawyers,cinematographers,chefs and even many who are at home.

Somewhere today i am feeling that I am very soon turning into that cribbing regular man who cribs, spathes himself again and again in a glorified crying.
i tend to innovate caricatured excuses of job,of studies and  n more alibis every other day.
But every day I know deep down that dude you had to be there.

Look at the sun rising from the peak's tip,look at the concoction that he just made,look at the awesome video she just made,Dude I had to be there.
But the biggest question that stands straight is why then am here.

I too want to be happy,clicking pics in places where I yearn to be.
i too want to be bubbling with a euphoria where I would be proud to say taht :look dude I belong here.
This is what i wanted to do all my life.

Then where am I going wrong.
Let me see what I actually want to do.
First is to write,write endlessly,maybe just a letter or maybe a novel,maybe for my solace or maybe for the world's pensieve.
So what is stopping me.
Me and me alone.

Am I stuck in a priority quagmire which is eating me and me trying to eat it almost at the same time.
Cause I have got excuses ready.
I want to do that bloody MBA since I dont know when.I am so vexed at times that it seems even stupid to put it in writing a crime.
And whats stopping me now.Thats me again.
This I say cause it is the only respite for me.

But then there is the acting bug which is there or not or well maybe ummmmm....

Whatever atleast the bug of living shouldn't die.

Maybe one day I would meet you all and say:
"Dude,that's what exactly am made for:)"


Monday, October 11, 2010

Divide and fool

This story dates long back,back,back and enough of back.
Its a time when we actually cared for some things and people could easily see the potential of our care and use it in a lot of constructive work.
But this construction only helped them which was something that we later realized.
This story dates back to a time when we have seen our very own neighbours behaving a bit weird,eccentric due to some issues of as they say higher importance.
Its about the time of a pressure cooker world(although its still the same),but yet at that time the pressure was always ready to explode,hissing all the time with an anger that seethed since ages.
And believe me there was a time when after demolishing something of grave importance when you went back to your town you were treated like a swatantra sainani(freedom fighters) to the grades of Bhagat Singh or Chandrashekhar azad.
Well enough of the times,hoping at the same time that time never returns back.
So, at that time there cropped up an issue of a house,of a cake so common to all people but divided by lines not of flavours but of vengeance,vengeance sown by people who had no place whatsoever in that house,who had no share whatsoever in that cake but then there was a bigger reason.
These people had a big big cow.Lets call it the holy cow.
They just wanted to milk that cow.
They called that cow- INDIA, with love.
So all they wanted was some fodder to feed the cow,just some safe fodder.
And people of those times could even stake their own lives just so that the cow could have its say.
Sadly the fodder got all eaten by the men themselves.
The cow has shrivelled up to the size of a retarded goat.
And the only instances when we hear about the cow is when photos of tidy rooms come in national dailies for some stupid local games with ' articulate beautiful designer dog leg blankets' or of creative pan stein walls.
I still am unable to understand why the kangaroo land people are all praises for those dragon owners. Instead of appreciating the beauty of our designs they make faces,ridiculing at the marvels that won't ever be found at any other place on earth.
And now isn't it the best games village we could ever give.
Now small bits of wrongs and rights are always there.
Now take this even if someone comes to visit your house these small things always stay,don't they.
Like dog stained blankets and pan coloured walls.Isn't it common :)
Add to this we have epitomised the way judgement happening in this country with god himself being one of the petitioners.
Our cow has come of age now.
Sadly one of its calves got divided into 3.But then that was a fair judgment based on facts after all.
But even if it is who cares.

Why to draw lines on places when we all are the same.
Even now we can all come up mutually for places that are common to all.
I understand the angst that we had this place so we will have it back.
We ruled it once so we would rule it again.
But when would we absolve our generations from a hell which they would never want.

What we all need too understand that lines once drawn would only get deeper.
The cake has been divided.
The essence now lies with us that how good these pastries could be aligned so that we all can mutually eat together.

May the pressure just wane out of this cooker.

To the cow:)


Thursday, September 16, 2010


As I stretch my hand
My blades hurt 
I scamper to a rescue 
but my veins thrust

I pull whats all within
and let out one last cry
with sweat in my eyes
and blood in breath
I yearn to instigate everything
that has not turned death

The silence tickles
as if insane
The time trickles 
as if it would never wane

But there I see the hourglass
Losing all the sand
There I see my life 
losing all that could be grand
I had promised myself 
that I would hold that time
I had promised myself 
that I would fight this time

So,one last time
I stretch my hand

My blades hurt 
And ah,
I hold the time.

Written for Magpie Tales


Wednesday, September 15, 2010

A hollow body

Don't make me feel offended.
Said he looking straight into his stark naked being in the mirror.
Days have passed and I have lost my demure,he thought.
He thought of the days when people would envy him of his gaunt body, of the flawless structure.
But a major accident had left most of his lower chin disfigured.
This combined with a powerful malignant liver disease had killed his appetite and love for food.
And finally the loss of his wife had left whatever desire he had for life.
Today while coming back from the graveyard the empty house and his hollow body were his only belongings.
A shining blade in all its glaze was looking at him.
Smiling as if hungry for his blood,for his life.
It was just ready to cut his veins with a slash of his fist,to put to silence the last jargon of a body that clinkered heavily with the drops of water seeping from the tap.
With high hopes and crumpled beliefs,he was ready to end the pain,pain of living.
The blade glistened in his hands,at the tip of a murderer who was a saint at the same time.
A last slash waited and just then over the shelf shone the lone hairclip of his wife.
And for the last moments before death he saw her,felt her and thought of every single moment they ever had.
And remembered the belief she had in him,in his disfigured face in his shrivelled appetite,in her volatile life.
That was the moment when the blade fell down and the spark to live returned back.
His eyes now glistned back for their love they shared.
Then he felt that killing himself now would mean killing all the wonderful memories he ever had of his loving wife.It would mean ending all the moments where he can still feel happy cause he had a wonderful life once.
The naked body was not naked anymore.the disfigured face was beautiful now cause it had the beautiful lines that had aged with his love for her.
Suddenly he headed to the kitchen to subside his craving for a wholesome dinner.


Sunday, August 29, 2010

Faith-just be there for some more time

The word itself goes into immense grueling by the very person who posses them.
What is faith?
Is it the belief in the god whom we have never seen.
Or is it the belief in that religious guru or that holy man who promises a way to god
but the very next day his sex tape emerges as the most watched video on you tube.
Or faith is that political group which on the ground of its faith destroys a mosque
just to uphold the faith which is its basis.
Or faith is that veil that lets us do any evil,cover all the sins taken and done in the name of god.

What is faith then.
Is it the belief that yes we have our family always there for us even at the dark of night.
Or is it the education that we underwent which would be our weapon even at the dim
of recession.

Faith is subjective and that too very very subjective.

Do I have faith??
Yes,I have.
I have the faith that when I would lie in shambles,distressed distraught then it won't be the god
who would come to hlp me.
Neither would it be one of the groups busy in breaking another church nor the holy people.
It would be me and me alone who would be the last man standing for me.

Then why should I search faith in every obscured vision,in every kaput government,in every lost

 I agree that yes my faith got skewed at times,afraid at moments but happily it is still there.

I have found my faith.
Wish the same for all of you.


Image courtsey:batman_by_anima_parilis
Check this for more about the artist:

Saturday, August 28, 2010


Dhad dadate hue kadmo se
taptapati hui nazro se
Saans ki lagam ka aghaz ho hi chuka tha

Sard dopahri me
andheri rat me
ye paigam bas bik hi chuka tha

Ek jeet thi woh
aur ek har hai yeh

kar raha hu taiyari
ab na hosh na khumari

hai agar to sirf ek darr
hona chahie tha jaha junoon

par pata hai mujhe ki fir se
mei banunga sher
ithlate hue mausam ka
karunga ek sir pair
Bade hue darr ko
mei hi karunga dher

kehlaunga gair
ya kehlaunga ek apna
chilaega mera akrosh
aur dabega mera darr

jab fir se ek bar
mei kasunga apni kamar
kamar us ant k lie
jiski shuruat bhi
aur ant bhi
likhunga bas mei

Image courtsey:fearless by Pandarice
check this link for more of his work:

Friday, July 23, 2010


bahut dino k gubaaar aj foot gya
acha hi hai,jo tha wo choot gya

leke apne asuaoo ko
kyu piya tu itne din
shayad bhul gaya tu
ki jiyega bhi to bas ek din

rat k kinare me taktaki bandhein
asuai ankho se dhundha bahut
milna tha jo mil hi gya
par milkar bhi konsa mil giya

sochta hu ki ye ek dard hai
ya dawa
ya fir ek sapna tuta hua

bhara tha bada dil me mere
zuban p machalta,dhundta
ek mauka kehne ka,ek mauka samjhane ka

ki aag hai machalti yaha bhi
dil hai pighalta yaha bhi

atishi raaz ban k sab dabb gaye
jo bache the wo bhi bikhar gaye

mann ne kaha bahut, ki kaash tum samajh pate
dard aur gam ko nigal pate

shayad, aur lekin ke beech
reh gya ye dil seena paseej

aur isiliye shayad

bahut dino k gubaaar aj foot gya
acha hi hai,jo tha wo choot gya


Wednesday, July 14, 2010

the truth

His usually gentle praise was so vulgar this time that she was actually happy of the monotony being broken of the fake appreciations.
Infact now of all the times,she loved him the most.


Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Is Maharashtra not a part of India

This was one reply that I had written to Shobhaa after her open letter to Raj thackrey.
Just found it so thought to put it up here.

Hi Shobhaa,
Now this is what we call a wonderful post.
Actually you made me wait long enough to read such an insightful post.
I totally completly wholly agree with your interpretation of Raj Thackery.
Marathi manoos,what the hell.
And not only him I am pained at the countless educated "INTELLECTUAL" people even here in the comments section who revel in this Marathi Manoos stupidity.
Fools have you people forgotten that there are already enough reasons for us to be at war with ourselves.
have you people forgotten the usless Babri masjid demolition,the Godhra carnage,subsequent Gujarat riots,attack on pub going women.
Are these not enough to increase animosity,that you want to create enemity even on the basis of place we were born.
How stupid of you to say that people are using Mumbai's water and resources,cause there would be your children too going to other places to study and for other reasons.Should they be labelled outcasts???
Or rather killed stupidly by a raging moronic mob withot a head but an even more stupid leader at their helm.
A Marathi manoos or an aam manoos all would be right if we are at peace with ourselves and believe that we are human beings first even before being Indians.


Monday, July 12, 2010


Scratches borne,
Sweat glistened,
Angst dead,
Courage pronounced,

Thirst conscious I stood,

A sound mind,
the only asset worth flaunting seemed jammed.
Death was just a timely change,
the world too small to rob me of any happiness,
parity paired beyond disgust.

Am I really what I want to do.
Do I live for what I desire.
Sadly,am churning myself in incongruous levers of an utterly delicate machinery.
It is not their fault that they expect me to perform,
but mine cause I have planted the wrong expectations.

The time has come again 
either to put things right
Or just to be RIGHT....

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Aao BANDH karein

Bandh,this word has elicited many a feelings deep down since childhood.
There was a time when this young mind felt extremely happy just by the name of this word.
Cause it meant a break from the everyday grime of scholastic school predators.
But as this mind grew wider so grew the bandhs.
Bandhs were not a nocturnal sighting of a rare owl anymore but the hood of that hissing cobra eating the house from inside.
And with bandhs came the bundle of venom of hate spewed across the cities,of livelihood lost,of families crushed,of extreme damage to public property,damaged rails,mutilated roads,scavenged buses and not to forget people.With changing times the types of bandhs too have changed.
Anything and everything from a hike in petrol prices to every other leader in the circle of arrest could and has instigated a bandh.Things have reached a proper planned process in such a way that the word Chakka jam,even if said in a friendly undertone by these people can be achieved in a very short span of time.
Varied parties that have been fighting cats and dogs keep coming together during these times so a to gain their part in the dead man's chest.Earlier it used to bother me that how educated people,who care for their family,their livelihoods could agree to bandhs.
But then it came to my knowledge that all you need is these executioners,with their gang of motley crowds,belt pulled for the required day.later they will fish their share in their eschewers.

Oh and the common man,yes he is there.These things,the bandhs have been so much in vogue that people actually helplessly take this as a welcome holiday and then there are people at lower tiers who can't stay at home but have to run a livelihood,.It is just that their livelihood for considerable amount of time shatters on that day.
Some leaders have said that they won't stop vehicles that have an emergency say a casualty,a childbirth.
thanks a tonne buddies.But can these poor souls cross already jammed roads till the point they can come to your patriots and explain that there is some serious concern.
All we want is souls who would agree to put our price hikes in proper ways rather than making us ourselves pay the price of rise in the prices.Well I haven't seen too much of violence in today's bandh but just cause of the bandh yesterday night's streetlamps kept working the whole day.
Anyways I can't do much.Soon there would be one more bandh,or should I call a welcome holiday.
And yes between the lines I have to go to work this saturday to settle the productive loss because of the bandh.
Alas one more holiday gone.


go go go

Its 2 in the night.One of my most powerful moments of the whole day,before dawn after night.I reign.I look.
But do i rule,or these are but my mind playing tricks with me.
Just now have made mental note to study for this year's big exams.
And then saw Russell peter's show and then I am again asking myself -Can I ever be at a place like that.
There is one profession that right now I am following and I pretty suck at it.But that's a respectable one.People are mad about it.You have tonnes of money in it,Only if one can mint it in the right way.
Probably,I can't.
And then there are things that I am good at,probably.
Things where my mind runs at lightning speed,probably,and there is value out there.But right now where I am its all considered plain crap.
Plan to write a novel,plan to host shows,plan to travel the world,plan to kick butt,plan to run on the roads now,plan to do my MBA by biting the cat real hard.PLAN.
This word itself has become a jeering question nowadays.
All my plans I have seen doing backflips in the dirtiest of the puddles.Yes,I have grown since these plans first surfaced but my position still remains as the remnant of the same stupid kid.
Aimlessly once more my eyes graze the virgin road taking seducive curves,all waiting to be trampled by me.Just feel like picking my bike and roving the road.
(Mental note to self:-Got to buy a bike)
Again have to organize myself.Have consistently been making my mind agree to the fact that this chain can't be torn,this shackle can't be defabricated.
Is that jeering road ruling me by calling me or is it I who am controlling it.
Is it me who is taking decisions and moulding life or rather it is life that is calling me names and just bending me in the situations.
What am I,a book keeper,a journal writer,an amateur,a coward,a liar,a pot bellied idiot,a dignified meek,a mundane lifestyle,an incongrous shakespere,an emanciated self...........
Drastically set goals tend to elongate like the life of a medically extended old soul.
Happy for the life but sad for the self.
Happy because I am afraid to die,sad because am not able to live.
Yes euthanasia is the only solution.Yes it is.


Monday, June 14, 2010

Whom do you call a monkey:India in my eyes

Chapter 1:

We never knew why it never happened.
Maybe it was because of the state of shoddy affairs of the country.Or because every other day a  more substantial story had the power to rule the previous one out.Or maybe just because the issue too had long been forgotten like the crores of issues that became stories and finally faded into oblivion as a mere trace of "lokkatha(fairy tale)".But,well we somehow had a strong belief that it was the doing of kala bandar which we saw in the poster of Delhi-X in front of us the other day.
But,whatever the matter was finally the three of us were quite happy that it never happened.Cause,even with all facilities it would have been real tough to accommodate one more of us amongst us.And now when we have such a huge crunch of space in the city,with prices zooming sky high,a mall opening every other day, a bridge zapping in half every hour,who would have the patience and time to let another monkey monkey around.
We hardly care for people's life nowadays,so, giving a damn and that too a monkey and over that a lifeless statue of a monkey and boy did you know that a lifeless white monkey's statue along with us-phew,no chance.
So,as I said we were quite content with whatever the result or outcome it had converged into.
Oh,a bit of confusion.I see.
Let me first tell you who I am...or rather who we are.
Well,to be very true we don't have any name.
Our creators some poor sculptors left the work halfway,cause some of them were not paid enough,while the others were too lazy to get us finished.
Initially we had heard the news that the then political party wanted to portray an ideology shift.
You might have heard about a great freedom fighter- Mahatma Gandhi.
Got it-"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."
Many of you may be hearing this at upfront railway stations in western countries when you would be busy kissing your girlfriends goodbye.And if you stay where we are and yet don't know him then it is a pity for the poor man himself cause you O fool have transcended the boundaries of insanity.
This great man of ours had a wonderful philosophy which he preached through our ancestors-Gandhiji's 3 monkeys.
As I said our ancestors i.e. these 3 monkeys had a wonderful style of their own.I was confused whether to use his or it for them cause most of you would call us another animal,but finally I being a monkey and that too a white statue have feelings more deep than you humans.
So the use of 'him' is not only pardonable but exquisitely necessary.
So,one of my ancestors had his hands on his eyes,one on his ears while the third one held his hands on his mouth.
Now they had this wonderful teaching to tell-Not to listen bad,not to see wrong,Not to talk foul or was it to stop bad breath,am not sure of the last one.
But,sadly our great ancestors were long forgotten like the great man himself.
Erased plain blank.As if there was no one who actually existed.
His only remembrance nowadays is the lack of liquor on his birthday.So,you would either have to empty wads of green currency notes to the corrupt khakhi balls or go for the country made cheap hooch  and end up dying most of the time.
So this man as I said was long forgotten except for teh politicians on his birthday or when the TV showed Munnabhai.And with him forgotten were our three ancestors.And sadly one day these 3 grand dad's were bulldozed because of a wrong road expansion plan.You see this happens most of the time here,plan A eats plan B i.e. to say  the constructor opts for whatsoever plan that helps him cover his township costs that he has been building,not to forget quenching the thirst from all parts of the society,from the government peon to the minister in power.
Sometimes we think that who benefits from all this because as we know every inlet has an outlet.Oh,don't take it in your dirty sense it is just the moment of money from one hand to the other,although what you thought was worthier than the same.
So,after my ancestors and their last bits were scraped from the chouraha(the four sided crossing),the then minister had a very noble idea.He wanted four monkeys placed at the same spot i.e. the center of intersection  of the four roads each one facing each road.He called us as the new symbols of peace and at peace we were.Cause as we said that the sculptor was a poor lazy independent moron,He slowly and infinitely  worked on us and that too with such detail that he forgot to make the fourth of us.
So,here we were the 3 of us waiting for the light of the day when one day we saw the sculptors working on a set of a lady's chiseled torso,I mean a newer statue complete with a purse.News was ripe that the man who hailed us in his ideology had lost the elections and lost were we.So,we sat here in scum eating dust,the 3 of us.A few days back,all that which had the promise of a shining skyscraper in the midst of a towering city had now melted into lonsome meadows.
And then there was no one but us.
And it was the first time.
The first time when precisely the 3 of us started talking to each other.
(3ww)erase, meadow, trace
Kindly be patient and let me know what are the flaws.Planning to give it some good shape:)
Criticism would be highly appreciated.


Save me lord

I looked back and still I could see him.
The outline of that tall gaunt figure cleanly pressed against the damp wall was sending deep shivers down me.
I know it was coming,coming for me.
Coming as a reminder for all the days lost,of all the deeds did.
But even then I was afraid.
Afraid not of that figure but afraid of the feeling that would rise once I would meet him.
There was not a single voice heard,neither any word said,just the dark of the night.
I sensed something but before i could jump that obstacle I fell down.
With bleeding knees and a deep cut on my face,with blood oozing and entering my eyes,the figure grew even hazier.
I could taste blood on my tounge or rather was it sweat.I just hadn't the time to think and all I wanted was to run.
I ran again but could not.
I had ran all that I could.I had hid all that I could.
And then I asked myself how much more would I run,how many cuts I would bear.
And then exactly,precisely my world stopped.
And with it I stopped.
I turned back first time in my life to face him.
To call him and tell him that I was not afraid anymore,I am not AFRAID any more.
And then I saw him shrinking,scampering,moving away from me.
There was no one but just my fear,there never was anyone but just me in my fear.
I have again turned ,to face the many fears that were troubling me,failures of sorts,failures of academics,of jobs...but then someday there ought to be a superhero,a saviour to save me.How many times would I wait for people to come and help me.After all this is my life,my trouble.Had been dejected since long afraid of those eyes,those jeering remarks,those rejected calls,those colleges where I failed to enter,those preparations am afraid to again undertake,that office job that I can't complete,that cab driver whose rudeness I can't reply back...
Someday it has to end.
Someday someone has to come to save me.

Happily I am my SUPERHERO.
And am on my mission.


Sunday, May 9, 2010


What is courage?
I have always tried to answer this question,to no one else but me.
Yes there is a lot of courage that goes in the wartimes,of soldiers standing guard against enemy inevitable,of peple believing in god for causes unavoidable.
But for me courage is different.
My courage might not be that big in size,might not be that grand,but still even my courage stands as COURAGE.
Courage for me is standing and that too taut.
Standing for the times when I could believe in myself against all odds.
Courage for me is getting down from your vehicle and helping that accident stricken man in the midst of the road.
Courage for me is going into the dingy chawl between AIDS prone people and helping them.
Courage for me is saying NO to that traffic policeman,that broker,that government officer for the under the table corruption.
Courage for me is slapping that guy who is trying to abuse that child or that girl in a bus.
Courage for me is to be there for your friends,your family when they need you the most.
Courage for me is taking that lost child home even if it means a tussle from the local cops.
Courage for me is to stand against people who think that caste,religion,society are the biggest things in life.
Courage for me is to stop things,people who are wrong even if it means compromising with your job.
Courage for me is the feeling that I would have at the end of the day that yes,I am leading a meaningful life.

Yes,there are instances when I show courage and instances when I act a coward,but yes atleast I am trying to become courageous.

For more work by the wonderful artist check here-

Sunday, May 2, 2010

the visonary raised his hand and then chaos reigned

"the visonary raised his hand and then chaos reigned"-

Sadly,this is the apathy that we have to bear with,every now and then.
Slam dunked to the core.
One mighty furore infests the other.
One cheap trick quickly eats the other
people like earthern pots
waiting to be squashed as stews
Families happy and gay
Now no more even in the life's fray
Which devil believed in which god
Which religion dwarfed which one
The fools never understood,neither could the geniuses estimate

One fine day comes a Ram
Another day one jigs a Jesus
Allah's word is spread
So how can Jews abstain from their god

But in all this where has the god gone
But in all this where has THIS gone

Indeed we all will listen
Indeed we all will understand
To a man who himself is the core
To a man who is GOOD
To a man who has HELPED
To a man who is a visionary

And yes we have heard
And then
"the visonary raised his hand and then chaos reigned"-

Photo credits-

Monday, March 15, 2010

Where m I heading

Posted by Picasa


so m up here.
now wat does dat mean.
Single pointed answers are not my forte,nor my weakness.
I too like the umpteen thousands planned rather pitifully and strongly to act and act soon.
3 years since I have been giving CAT.
3 solid ones.
Never ever lost on the hopes,imaginations and stuff.
First year I very much remember walking across the corridors,touching the walls,sleeping in dorms of none other than IIM A.
All had been so crystal clear.
I felt that I was practising real hard.
Before I say anything more I would say IMS sucks,they literally cheated me with nothing.
Kkkkk.So,what I was left at CAT was 29 percentile.
After that year finished enginnering, reattempted CAT-58 percentile.
Joined Satyam reattempted CAT-85 percentile.
Huh,the dynamics remain same but the maniacism just got bigger.
Satyam fiasco was fun.
Anyways left Satyam,have an offer from IBM.
Dint join.
wAnt to go 4 cat.
But but m what I was always.
Poor in quant.Felt that I was quite gud in DI n eng.
LAst year I knew that any set of DI I wud put my hands on I wud crack it.
But lack of activity has made me dreaD the same DIs back.
Eng acts as a slithering muse,at times so intimate while at others so cold.
And quant umaaaah wat to say,have dreaded it since my childhood days.
Dunno wat n when why n how but still m writing dis.
Infact I am writing this not to cry over my sorry state f affairs but rather to revisit it once m thru IIM A and smile back:)
Had this post lined up long back.
Endings have been varied,or rather to say that end hasn't been achieved it
CAT is over now.
Have had a 97.8 prcntl.
Today nearly all college lists are over.
Only IMT is wat is in hands(and that too if I am in the list).
Wait has increased.
With the 70 percent rule for 10 th and 12th,the IIM window too has closed.
So no meaning in dropping further.
So m up again...
All over and over and over again.


Friday, February 19, 2010

"Don't dawdle Alice"

"Don't dawdle Alice"

One line that always reminds me of Alice in Wonderland.
A line said by the ever intelligent cat which shows Alice the key to priorities.
And Alice as she is,even at such high priority time is awestruck by the world she is in.
So peculiar of her,right.
And in turn,of you,me and us all.
No day is useless.No day is aimless.
Yet aimless drifting is what we have been doing since ages at a stretch.
That check that needs to be processed,that chapter that needs to be studied,the effort that needs to be put,that phone call that we had to do.
But we as Alice are most lost in other entanglements.
And it is more sad cause half of the important times are just lost in the nerdy hitches that rise in our throats.
All are just stuck up in an inanimate time frame.
A state which would always come with splashes of pleasure and pain.
It's just that we have been postponing them.

So,Alice this is for you and for me.

The time to dawdle is over.
The time has come,come for things that need to be handled,for plans that need to be executed.
I have been witnessing that 3/4th of my life's situations am leaving in the hands of the river's flow.

But time has come to question the 3/4ths and merge as one voice.

So,please Alice don't dawdle,let's run and that too real hard.

(For the wonderful image and other work's of the author,visit Image source)




The world is a stage

free counters

Interesting hmm

Blog Widget by LinkWithin