grass is greener

never mind what they have to say
never mind what u read in the papers
never mind what u believe otherwise
always, almost always on the other side
the grass is greener

may be some rumor over coffee
may be something that you could not see
may be a slip of the tounge
may be a joke that went wrong

so small a thing, that u need lenses
so obvious that it blinds your senses
a farce that has become routine
a calm surface that hides everything

peanuts in dark that you searched
in vain, mid-day candles that you burned
red eyes you strained to tears
aching backs that you did nurse

all that you worked for,
all that you asked for.
you will search again alas
is a little greener grass!!

this poem is a tribute to the human spirit which says- Yeh dil maange more!! (yeah, yeah the corporate context is too obvious to state)

Mis-Understood

a lie told honestly
or a truth with intention dissimilar
whether the person
or the words uttered
what matters the most
is what mattered

a dropped trait
picked up from the past
an apparition of apprehension
of a future dark
may be a stray stone
that one could not see
with great care bought but
a gift undelivered may be
what matters the most
is what mattered

are tears always shed in pain
does a laugh envoice the joy in heart
are sighs all the time in vain
or a grin is mockery at the last
not all capital help loans
come with interests attached
neither does silence mean
a blatant refusal
what you say
what you think
and do you what
may be all the same
or way apart but,
what matters the most
is what mattered

Nenikekamen (We were victorious!)

the chains that hold us back
can they never be broken
the marks they leave on our legs
too deep and hard to soften ?
fated are we too like the moth to die
by the cocoons we weave around ourselves
too afraid to swim across the ocean
are we to decay marooned in a swamp island

how many times must we fail
just to gain strength for next,
how many trials must the heart face
to know for sure what is best.
they monkey sure tries to climb up
but slips more on the greased pole,
the waves are but mighty and are more,
enough to keep us fafrom shore.
what stops us to stop, clean all the scum and filth
that nauseates our being and poisons the soul

the treaded paths of habit
must we follow like lambs,
can't we run alone into the jungles
chase, hunt or die in pursuit of the catch
what is so general and acceptable,
in the general lack of sense and direction
cold and distant to all,
we move in extremes of hope and frustration
must the whip lie with the ring master
the lion: deluded as a meek lamb,
keep denying his own reflection

not by mere chance or favour,
no waiting anymore.
we demand our victory by now
our birthright, our nature it is,
either we do or we die by
what we are set to achieve!

Pheidippides must proclaim
"Nenikekamen" after the marathon.
even if he runs to a cul de sac or worse
to a crowd dumb ,
No stops, no option, no rest for him
Run or run, run and run.

worshipping false GODs!!

This was a place where I went for solace, for strength and for hope during one of the darkest periods of my life. Rejected, denounced, mocked, humiliated and even ridiculed I went there without much expectations. Somehow, I had gathered the most of my concentration and sincerity and went with folded hands to pray (as it should be on most cases for nothing). Then I had one of the best experiences I could hope for, the details of which I would omit here as it runs the risk of diluting from the main issue. This was a small open temple of Lord Hanuman (the monkey-god who is an epitome of devotion and service to Lord Rama). There was a huge five faced structure of the Lord, almost 15-20ft high. The structure was matching with the incomparable strength and stature of Hanuman. The sign-board of this place read ashram (small on too-a few sadhus taking shelter along the National Highway).
O! I mentioned it. National Highways, roads on which India will march to economic prosperity and well being for its citizens. This time too I wanted to stop over at the ashram and seek divine intervention for some resolution in my mind. What place could be better than this Panchamukhi mandir where years ago I unknowingly and unsuspectingly had a wonderful and memorable divine experience. Besides this was a place where you could walk into anytime and wont be away from Lord’s sight and vice-versa.
I could not see the imposing stone structure, the benign, kind eyes of the Lord, the majestic Gada, the broad shoulders and the upraised palm of the Lord blessing all and one passing on the great National Highway, or stopping over to read chalisa, or just wandering there. Did I misjudge the location, was I seeking the signs too early or too late?
Sadly neither! I could see the familiar orange color, the strong arms, the weapon felled, the large kind eyes – all lying down on ground. I could not but help myself to ia scene of war, the great warrior conquered and slayed. The ashram was nowhere seen, neither were any priest or sadhus around. I my hands were still, so were my eyes, I did not have the courage to stop and ask what happened. I rode on the golden roads and my eyes were soon filled with tears due to fast driving or otherwise. Strong winds? Tree uprooting etc?
Nah!-This had withstood the super cyclone. I had reached the Kali temple This too had a similar story to offer. It could not be mistaken any more. It was Man.
I drove like crazy hence forth, the speed of my scooter was only matched with the frenzy of my mind. How could they? Who? Why on earth? The roads are wide enough, and there are not that many vehicles. For ___’s sake why?
I could not gather anything else, the road, the people driving besides me, the horns, the stray dog on the road. All around me I could see the felled head of the lord and his benign eyes appearing in flashes. What could man trust now? How could one refer to the Lord as Almighty anymore. What is most important to our lives ? The thoughts were just too many and coming too fast.

The entire structure of faith however rickety was about to collapse under these recent discoveries. We have accused him of being biased, partial, hubristic, of being someone who silently observes all that is wrong in this world and does not do anything about it even though he jolly well can. Now - he can not even help himself. What message are we supposed to get from this. Already there is a huge crisis of faith in this world.

Is faith just a matter of temporary fashion or one of the numerous avenues of spending time. Is it all these images of our faith were meant to convey?
Well be it. We don't need those icons, those idols, those temples, those mosques, those churches, those songs, those hyms; yes we lack sincerity, yes we do a lot of things we do not understand or believe in, but at least we get solace for some moments, we get hope among all the despair and angst around us- at least we pretend. Don't take that away from us. Please not in that manner at least.
We heard that "God helps them who help themselves" well God- you decide where do you stand now.
As for me one can never take away that moment of inspiration, those benign eyes will be ever the same, whether 15ft high , on ground or in my mind.

chahta kya hai??

Chahta kya hai?

Such an important question that we must ask ourselves from time to time. What is that we want from life? If we go down to people and ask them to write it on a paper what is they want, don’t be surprised to get back many empty papers and bullshit scribbled on quite a few others.

When we don’t even know what is that we want from life, what is that we want to do, it is unfair to crib that life has not been fair to us. If you know what it is that you want (two very important words – you and want) then I believe most of the problem is solved.

Let us drill down further; You – Only you. It must be yours, your own, not borrowed, not inspired, not forced, not handed over, not an afterthought but something that has only to do with you. Something that has only one stakeholder (excuse my jargon) – that is you. No one else. Something you would pick out of all other things if given a free choice by GOD (or an equal power).

Want – again very important. Not for a passing moment, not for dabbling, not for fashion, not even for ‘feel good’ for sometime but want. Like we want air to breathe, water to drink and food to eat. Something that it inexorable and not inter changeable with anything else. Can you breathe anything else (perfumed and branded Nitrogen or Argon), can you drink wine/honey instead of water and survive. Want, which you would not or can not compromise.

What is the problem then. Again these two words. People don’t know who is that I. They confuse it with peers, family, society, nation and many others. Everything but not their own selves, not they – stand alone. I don’t want to elaborate you understand (You).

It is very different; this word – want. We may need something and not get it, we may desire for something else and get something else, we may aspire for something and not get close enough but it is not possible that we want something and do not get it or we ask for something and not be given (even Jesus Christ guarantees this – ask and it shall be given). We would cease to exist otherwise. As I said before No compromise.

So, look yourself in the eye and ask – Chahta kya hai?

Buy/Sell - II

Buy/Sell
Agents : M/s Shylock and sychophants
In a Market economy - what can you buy/sell in a market ? everything, everything that is marketable. Goods, Services, stocks, bonds, currencies, options, futures, swaps and other derivatives (look at the audacious definition (wikipedia)- "Derivatives are financial instruments whose price and value derive from the value of assets underlying them"). So virtually anything and everything can be a derivative - just that there should be some value and uncertainty and two fools ready to make the contract. There is an entire industry of doing this and thousands of other fools facilitating this. Excuse My use of the word - Fools. These people are otherwise called traders, brokers, investment bankers, consultants, associates. Boy!! they make millions of Dollars(i heard they have this freedom too-choosing the currency in which they want to be paid) doing something I don't understand, even if they explain with the help of ppts, reports, pdfs (thats the best they know-buggers!)
Now a bit of a economics/management talk but you have to be patient.
Since the emergence of money markets and then subsequently its two very famous derivatives currency and interest rate, and their numerous offspring the world has not been the same place. Not only people, not even organizations but whole nation-economies have been affected by this phenomenon and to an extent that affects millions of people and billions of dollars. Examples - Whatever is happening in Argentina, Indonesia, happened to South Korea and we fear might happen to India (devaluated currency, whole sections of populations going down the $2 line etc)
Will somebody explain what, how and why is this all going on!!
Well then - Is it possible then to sell say, one's past, future or even dreams, aspirations and love.
So fools(and whatever qualifiers you have). Any answers?

Inspiration - Banijyer Bistar (a special performance by special group Blind Opera at EZCC, Salt lake, Kolkata)
Sikandar a poor Bangladeshi man sells off his past (he does not have anything else that is worthy of selling) to Shylock (the owner of Shylock and Sycophants), a man who claims everything and anything can be traded. The price he gets for it - 1 crore INR.
Then he gets greedy and sells his own future, dreams, hope and everything.
Greed consumes him completely- Can I sell the future of my child? He asks.
Yes - comes the answer from the Shylock and Sycophants team.
His child afraid beyond description runs away from his home.

This forced me to think how many people in this world have already done what Sikandar was doing. How many people have sold their past- to memories, to nostalgia, to publishing houses(to make books out of it and give you your share of it). How many more sell their future(please do confuse with the thousands of futures that are traded in the market) everyday. Selling their dreams is understood, how many sell their hopes (what else could the selling of child in India amount to). Selling present -thats easy:I discussed it in Buy/Sell-I (same blog-June); we all are doing it all the time. And what is the price we are paid?
Your fat salaries to begin with, since its a bit financialized - returns people get by investing past savings, price of your stock - present value of future cash flows the list ends with only your imagination.
Please do reflect what prices you do pay for it. It is a trade after all. They are taking something for sure. Ask what? Dreams, learnings, memories, wisdom, possibilities or hopes. Ask yourself now - are you ready to barter? Is that thing important to you. Doest it really matter.Is it a deal yet.
It was a overwhelming and warm experience to learn later (except for two actors who were completely blind, we could never guess even if the name of the team was Blind Opera) at the backstage that all of these splendid (for the lack of a better word) actors were either partially or wholly blind!

good morning!

do you ever sleep, or wake up?
how is that you ideate such wonderful mornings!
Mornings that give such joy and freedom.

freedom to choose the course the day will take
and joy that the night is over
but is it always the same for you-morning or not?

thoughts, worries, anxieties and even angst
we dump them in the ocean of silence during sleep
where do you dump them and how?

every day wipe our minds clean like the sincere maid
only to be smeared later with many hues.
why can it not remain like that ?

and this sky? must be your slate
where you work out your sums, write,
draw, paint and definitely erase but what?

these dew drops i walk on,
are they the sweat of your hard toil,
nothing to gain, lose or prove :still you work?

i may probe and probe, but answer you will
only in the silence of my heart. only thing,
wipe my heart clean, your voice be heard!

I wait with them

Drawing pictures with mind-brush

On the blank walls of this empty house,

I wait for the noise of your laugh.

Face buried on the neat sheet on the bed,

Breath heavy and uneasy I

Wait for the scent of your disheveled hair.

Part the curtains of my imagination,

Take form; take shape.

Run through me like the summer night breeze.

Touch my face with your icy hands

Wet my dry, parched lips

With the rain-drops of your moist love.

Not alone though I am

In this not so vain wait of yours,

There are few who could not say you so.

The floors swept clean by tears of repentance,

Wait for the gentle tapping of your feet

To the rhythm of the new tune we rehearsed.

The tulsi-plant at the veranda too

Like a neglected child, sulks and waits

Who will water me during the morning and dusks?

Upon which we used to sit under the stars

Witness to our giggles and sighs

The mattress still spread open waits .

That old table lamp too: you remember?

Read books aloud, acted, cried, laughed

And slept under, just tired on many other occasions.

What are you waiting for dear,

For Me to say how much you mean

Or You to be bold enough to break the hedgings of ego

Can you not see the need of yours

Must you continue your hide-and-seek?

Must you make me wait longer?

invictus

( not my own writing but definitely worth mentioning, what an inspiration, tremendous belief in Man's own capacity to take His own destiny in his own hands. I am actually typing out the the text.No Ctrl+C & Ctrl+V)

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever Gods may be,
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance,
I have not winced nor cried aloud,
Under the bludgeonings of chance,
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears,
Looms but the horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of years,
Finds, and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how straight the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the of master my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

------------------------- William Ernest Henely (1849-1903)

HUMID

it may be a little sunny,
or may be bit of shade,
inside a room or outside,
but one thing i can surely bet,
it gonna be HUMID.

too many people
filling places around,
or too many vehicles
on the road you found.
dark clouds like patches
on the face of sky,
squeezed between two plates
suffocated when you lie,
twisting your neck
in agony you cry,
Boy its HUMID!

tears and sweat all mixed
can't tell which is what.
all you wipe in one cloth
how funny is that!
emotions overflowing soak
in the helpless cloth.
ooze out of you forehead
run down your cheek,
restless and panting?
sure its HUMID.

dust and blood all the same,
man and machine no different.
corpses and cut tress look alike
fight whom we against?
are not all wars fated?
ill for the victor,
and ill for the vanquished.
still must you go on
rushing, pushing, sweating, complaining
Damn it's HUMID?

Twinkle Twinkle

(the performances of the special kids of kolkata @ gyaanmanch inspired this piece)

for pics click

You can not forget this.

Twinkle twinkle little stars!

How I wonder what you are,

Up above the world so high,

Now, hold there, I do not agree to this

Not anymore.

To behold such light, such promise, such joy, such innocence, such hope, such immense possibility in front of you and below the sky.

You don’t want to listen them sing – up above…

They are the children of joy!!

One smile and they can make you cry for your own childhood,

One question and they make you doubt all that you have learnt in life, One small step you take and the tiredness of the whole journey is gone,

One call and they make you to listen to your own voice, one look and they make you love and live life again.

If there is one thing that is extremely special and even more unique to these tiny toddlers is – possibility. They don’t have the past, they are bound by no shackles of past, they are not any ‘types’, they are not cast permanently into any mould. They have just one way to look, only one way to walk on, and only one way to think about – the way ahead.

Ever wonder why is that we always want to become kids again?

Possiblity – On dot !! We increasingly associate that word with negative connotation and used euphemistically to say NO. Say ‘No’ to those very things, which once we gave the highest place in our own worlds – Dreams. Possibilities decrease in increasing order as we become ‘older’ / ‘more mature’ / ‘practical in life’.

The kids of Time!!

No technicalities, no probabilities, no practicalities, no ‘realisticalities’, no considerations, no issues, no bullshitting-simply put!

Just the purity of their will and the Will of Is. That is what shapes their possibilities. May their possibilities express themselves fully!!

Know your special friend

That day I ran into this dark burly guy while coming out of the wash room. "Sorry.I am very sorry" he said. "It's OK". I retorted back. Nothing unusual.
A few days later; "How was your weekend?", I turned back. The same dark, burly guy. I replied " great " added "I went home". "Oh thats really great" - he smiled. I did not know him, not even his name, but still nothing unusual.
I saw him sitting at his desk with a very expensive looking headphone attached to his head, looking intently at his computer. He had a very stylish keyboard. Nothing unusual here too.
I met him once again on our way back. Then it all flashed back - the bumping at the wash room, query about my weekend , his sitting with headphone attached all the time.
We had the usual round of introductions and office talks for sometime. Then the customary round of silence and searching for the next common topic to discuss.
I got some time to think.
So this guy is doing all that I am doing, all the interactions with the clients, all the report making, all the recommendations, all that all the people in the Organization are doing. He is a consultant, a senior one that too.
Then I remembered the words of Diana-a friend working for a wonderful cause in a wonderful way. " We are going to see tremendous possibilities for the special kids(with different physical and mental abilities). They are going to sit besides us, work with us, study with us, play with us, dance with us, sing with us, smile with us, cry with us, feel the same angst that we feel, the same despair, the same frustration, the same feeling of love, of hearts overflowing with a desire to give, to share, to be together (may not be exact words but same feeling for sure)."
for more details about Diana and Chrysallis performance center for the challenged see My interests section in this Blog.
But what is this green-miasma in front of my eyes. Jealousy! - Yes I could see him . Tempting me, laughing at me, teasing me. "He is challenged yet he can do all that you can. He is getting all the respect and definitely some more sympathy than you get. Maybe he is getting paid as much. He is BLIND, you are NOT.But..."
I paused for a moment, thought over it and shot back."I am not?? Am I not blind to the possibility that he has a beautiful mind, a working brain, a perfect soul just like me. Am I not blind to the fact that he is capable of and may be delivering much more than I am. Am I not blind to the fact that his perception world may be much more beautiful than what I perceive." The demon unwelcome, went away. He will hunt some one else now.
This is the thing we have to fight against. We have to keep our guard against constantly. This feeling. This demon and its aides (indifference, disgust, repulsion) we have to kill. He has managed to keep our special friend away from all of us. He has managed to put them in special schools, in some far-away hospitals, in rehab centers away from our love, friendship and humanity. He has deprived us of the tales of hope, the testimonies of mental strength, of resilience, stories of courage, of an undaunted spirit, that these very special people have to share with us.
Special - Yes they are. They still manage to hang on and still manage to carry on this journey of life without what we usually (but very funnily) call 'normal'. I can not say much. THINK yourself. What is normal, Who is normal anyway?

don't tell me- That is the way the cookie crumbles

i still think about it
even though i had made up my mind
a thousand times over.
still undecided, still afraid;
have i lost everything ?
what i have gained 'just an illusion' ?

from the depth of my soul
the voice - silent whisper rather;
has almost stopped calling again.
downed may be or silenced,
by the loud cries of the world
or the brou ha ha of my head

they all look the same:
zombies, active morons or just humans
what is that i am doing here?
a cog in the wheel of time,
forced to run without stop,
without complaint, without thought.


who is in charge of all this,
who runs this tragic show?
why can't we see ahead?
why can't we turn back?
do we direct all the moves
or just act out the lines of this play?

why are we always running
is something to be gained and not lost
what is that we are waiting for
someone who is different yet understands us,
someone who empathises but does not suffer,
someone - a man or a god ?

buy/sell - what?? TIME!!

No. The finance bug has not bitten me.Not yet. I still don't understand how people can make money ($,Rs, cant find any other currency symbol so- etc. etc.) by using the arbitrage (don't ask the meaning - this word just sounds good) route.
What I am referring to here is something more than a commodity and though similar but not interchangeably used for currency. TIME
Men and women all the time sell their times but can never buy it back.
Thank Coelho for this wonderful statement but reflect upon it - How true starting from a investment banker, to a movie star, a doctor, an IT guy(still say it after the HCL ad), a prostitute and even a CONSULTANT(don't break your head over the order-no logic in it) sell their time and earn their living(actually a lot more than that) from it.
But it does not work the reverse way. You CAN NOT buy back some time by paying some (whatever) amount of money in any counter.
And how badly we need it - think of a dying son who never had time to say "Father you are the field from which I have harvested everything in my life. I love you". The stinking rich guy who was busy making millions all the time his only daughter grew up. What would he give to buy some time when she took her first steps, said 'Ma' or 'Pa' for the first time.
The last evening with your beloved before she left for a different country to pursue her destiny. You would pay for the evening to last forever-won't you?
I could really go on - BUT
My company is selling my time to a client and charging them for it.
So i have to sell it to them. Really pressed for time.
Would get back to this topic for sure, when I have more of TIME(cant BUY but can BORROW :))

so many time in our lives we go through this...

Castaway

Alone in the blues all around and atop,

In a moment when time meets a full stop,

...(wait for the book)

an ode to the "best days of our lives"

Stolen Moments

...(wait for the book)

behind closed doors

Behind the closed doors

When the darkness blinds my vision

And the day is long gone.

........ (wait for the book)

Behind the closed doors.

Choices and Consequences

There comes a time in the lives of all of us when we are kissed by life itself and destiny’s hands rise to lift us up to itself. The challenge is in being able to sense that this is the time. All the success stories that we hear typically ends with the “rest all is history” or “there was no looking back after that”. You should be able to guess what is that I am hinting at. There have been such instances, such chances that happen to come our way once or more but some choose to turn left some choose to turn right some choose to retreat and some choose to just wait. That makes all the difference. One of my friends used to tell all the time that

“it is all about choices and consequences”. I couldn’t put it any better.

The choices we make leads to very different circumstances that again lead to many choices. In fact if we look back we see that what we are today and what the world around us is that is due to the choices we made. If we roll back the tape so to say and think that had we made a different choice at a particular point in our lives our live and everyone connected with us would have had very different lives that what is now or it could have been same also. We live in our own worlds I mean all the people in this world lives in different worlds only they physically reside in one planet called earth in a remote corner of the milky way in a still more remote corner of the universe. Who knows we might have different universes also!

I promised I would not write anything that I myself could never relate to I mean things like nuclear arms deal with US, cloning etc. So here is my part to it. I always though I had an outside chance to go to some good university like Oxford, Cambridge etc(they are not just good but they are too good I know but I already said an outside chance) and pursue a career in literature or arts. There was a chance during my school days- I was given enough recognition and encouragement to do so but I chose to pursue the road oft traveled. What I am today and what I am doing now is all a fall out of many choices like that. I just hope that I make some more choices and the final outcome be the same.

No one can escape making choices not even the hermit who has renounced the world and lives in the woods. Even not making a choice is a choice in itself so let us make our choices and be ready to face the returns as they are. Let us brace ourselves saying that only I made my choices so I must embrace the consequences hereafter. Every choice is made in the uncaring blind-said Radhakrihnan. So we cannot regret for our choices but we must make our best judgment, we must do our best and be our best self when making these choices and then accept the results as they are. We have the right to choose but not the right to decide what follows, we have the right to present not the future, and we have a right to the war not victory. That is the message of Gita said differently.

Get-Set-Write

May be this time I will continue writing,
may be this time things will be different,
may be this time I will write
may be this time, or may be!!