Silent Horizons

It gives me immense pleasure to inform you about the publication of my first collection of poems titled 'Silent Horizons'.

The book was released on 17th July 2009 at India International Centre, New Delhi. The book was released by Mr. Dinesh Mishra, ex-president Gyanapeetha Award Committee and Chairman, Indian Society of Authors, Dr. Madhu Pant, writer and ex-chairperson, National Bal Bhawan and eminent author Ms. Surekha Panandikar.

Ms. Panandikar made a critical review of the poems. The poetry, she said is marked by maturity of thoughts and boldness of expression.

And YES you can order a copy of the book !

Click on the link below

http://silenthorizons.books.officelive.com/

This is the website for the book. You can take a preview of the book, read/view pics of the release and order a copy by paying through your credit card or paypal account.

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The book will be sent to you by post within 15 days.

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All buyers/hecklers/fans would be sent an autographed copy of the book.
Thanks!!

चलो आए तो

अब के बरस बड़ी देर से आए, पर चलो आए तो।

शिकवों -गिलों की भीड़ जो जमा की थी साल भर

पल भर में देखो कैसे बिखर से गए । अब के बरस...

हसरतों के आँचल बेरंग खुले थे जो अब तक

तुम्हारी स्याही के इंतज़ार में सिमट से गए। अब के बरस ...

खूब सताया तुम्हारी सौत ने, जली- भुनी खिलाती रही

तुम्हारी हाथ की रोटी को हम तरस से गए । अब के बरस ...

एक आदत डाल ली थी धुँए कि घुटन में जीने की

तुम्हारी खुसबू को हम जाने कैसे भूल से गए। अब के बरस ...

कुछ बासी नाराजगी होगी, फ़ेंक देना इतना मुश्किल तो नहीं

देखो तुम्हारी याद में, मैं और वो पत्ते कैसे झुलस से गए।

अब के बरस बड़ी देर से आए, पर चलो आए तो।

दिल्ली की एक उदासीन दोपहर के उपरांत एक हलकी सी बारिश के बाद ।

Bye Mumbai

Sleep clung on to my body like the remnants of a freshly baked cake stick to the pan on which they were put to the oven. I got up and walked around my square room looking for my slippers and some inspiration. Found only the former. If this is what life is supposed to mean, then i prefer not to listen.

I am more restless in this kind of inaction and stagnation that in action. In intense activity my restless energy finds a temporary vent or outlet. Mumbai, and my stay there made me feel that each day repeats itself in a ruthless routine. There are so many things to do just to get through your routine but you have not done or been through anything. I did not mind the pace of the city, but the lack of a life within the so called 'life'.

I became almost sacarstic of Mumbai and the joys and pains of people. Much had to do with not-so-brightest people, who shared the flat with me. I wasn't travelling to work everyday, living in Shivaji Park and working there as well. The food was good, available and hot. The flat was small even by Mumbai standards and the bathroom only large enough to allow me to strech one of my hands at one time!

I felt limited, in many ways, by the city. The city had nothing to offer me that would exite me. This had happened to me in many cities. Bangalore in 15 days, Calcutta in 1 year, Lucknow in 8 months and now this - the Maximum city!
Time to move. Something told me I had to leave. I did not have a job in Delhi, not many relatives, few friends and a vague familiarity with the city.
But I knew, I had to go to Delhi and say Bye to Mumbai.

----
June 2006
was written in Mumbai, completed in Bhubaneswar, after I have completed 2 and half years of stay in Delhi.

Udjayega Hans Akela

Ud Jayega Huns Akela,
Jug Darshan Ka Mela
Jaise Paat Gire Taruvar Se,
Milna Bahut Duhela
Naa Jane Kidhar Girega,
Lageya Pawan Ka Rela
Jub Howe Umur Puri,
Jab Chute Ga Hukum Huzuri
Jum Ke Doot Bade Mazboot,
Jum Se Pada Jhamela
Das Kabir Har Ke Gun Gawe,
Wah Har Ko Paran Pawe
Guru Ki Karni Guru Jayega,
Chele Ki Karni Chela


I am not very sure if there is a name for it - Learning through opposites. Like you learn about an Axiom /Thory in Mathematics by proving that the opposite is true. You learn about love through hatred, about friendship via treachery, about kindness through exploitation/harshness. Sufis and Kabir in particular, when they talk about Death they actually want to tell us about Life !
Death has been such an important concept, so many verses have been written about it. The reasons could be many - not many people get to do anything with it during their lifetimes, it is the final stop, a destination from where there is no apparent return (we can talk about rebirth later) but nothing more apt than the fact that we learn more about Life and Art of Living for that matter by knowing more about Death.
Death has been compared to a great escape, a grand reunion or end of a play/drama.
Our western friends call it 'giving up the ghost' where as much of Sanatana philosophy would say 'gave up his body' or 'kicked his frame' or 'change of clothes' !!

Kabir has his own way of comparing our souls to a Swan (Hans) which has been caged in our bodies and shall be free after Death.

The Swan will fly away,
Fly away alone to the blue skies.
Far from the fair of this world,
Which has entangled it for long in ties.

None can tell where shall it go,
Like dry leaves fallen from trees.
Driven by the gusts of wind,
Sans intention and direction which flies.

When the time of play is over,
No more ordering and being ordered around.
None to call the shots-
World, senses, mind or intellect profound.

The messengers of Yama (Lord of Death) are strong,
Never miss their target at all.
Is this life not a waiting,
A vain waiting for Yama's call?

Kabir is the slave of the Lord,
And sings the tales of His nature.
His name, shall get him(Kabir) to His door
That Kabir is sure.

Remember,it is a one way ticket for one,
The teacher shall go as per his action,
The student shall go as per his own.

NANOH!

I am bit by the Sustainable Development bug as you would have guessed from my last post. After, much reluctance and 10-15 min of wait later at 10 in the night at Delhi's Lodhi Gardens, I took an autorickshaw back to my guesthouse. (I would have liked a DTC killer Blueline Bus, even though they are infrequent, shoddy, drivers and ticket wallahs rude and the buses have a murderer's reputation to live up to)

I looked at a biker rider, nay riders and looked on further. Wait! Something unsual here. I looked again. There were five on them on the bike (a Hero Honda Splendour).
1. The smallest kid - a two year old sweetheart }- The tank
2. The father }- Seat
3. The eldest sister }- Seat
4. The mother }- Seat
5. The brother - a five year old }- the small iron rods that protude after the seat ends - generally used to hang up polythene, bags etc.

My face must have been distorted (more that what it already is) at the sight of five people on one bike and that too without helments for any of the riders other than the driver.

The kid who was at the last part of the bike clutching the rod looked sideways at me. My expressions did not change, he would have been scared. He looked ahead.
The kid looked back again (very natural) and smiled.
I have no idea whether the kid could read my mind full of safe driving, sustainable transport, family planning, city life and other bull shit.

I was reminded of a woman I say crying inconsolably inside a big black BMW, her face red, eyes swollen and hair dishevelled. Contrast.

My thoughts moved to Nano. I had heard and spoken a lot about how it is going to transform the scene on the roads, pollution levels, traffic jams etc etc. I had even stepped inside one at a showroom here.

I forgot all that in an instant and was reminded of the vision Ratan Tata talked about when he launched the car a few months back. This kid would be certainly happier and much much more safer to sit inside one.

I caught him again looking at me. I put out my arms tightened my fist, urging him to hold tight. He gave me a broader smile as his father sped away.

smarter planet

i am writing this with my skin burning - heat trapped under and over, millions of sweat-drops over my forehead, sipping a glass of water at room temperature (i.e. 40 deg. celcius, you can still call it room temperature!) and a distraught pair of hands typing at a insanely familiar keyboard.
No, it not just the month of June, it not just Delhi, it is not just the pollution, it is not just my bodily water cycle in hyper-active mode, it is not dehydration, it not just the Sun, it is all these in parts and a very small insignificant unsuspecting thing - a shower at 8.45 PM. I can read the 'Hmmph' on your face. Let me explain.

It is not uncommon to feel your skin burning, to have sweat oozing out of pores and your body and clothes heated up after exposure to sun in the month of June in Delhi. But, to have the feeling after your body have cooled down a bit because of a jog and subsequent perspiration after which you have take a shower is trival at the least and of personal interest at the most. The issue lies in between. It is 'WHY' and 'WHY NOT'.
If you feel like throwing something at me. Find it!

why?: It is perfectly normal and banal to have water pipes heated up during the day due to the Sun in the summers. It is a natural that when one wants to take a shower in the evening the pipes would not have cooled enough and for the first 5-10 minutes (okay so what if it is 30!) one would have hot (okay boiling!) water coming out. You be patient, read the newspaper, try a facepack, update your tweeter and come back ! Simple! Don't start writing a post on it man!

WHY?:The amount of water that I drained off for 30 min, could have allowed so many girls in Rajasthan and the outskirts/slums of Delhi to go to school or study for extra couple of hours, rather than walking miles and waiting for hours for water. Their families never had or would have access have such clean water (what I drain off every day at South Delhi) to drink.
It is not activist/nature enthusiast crap, it is a fact.
Why do we think that these things are not as important as other things we think about?
We do we think we have so much time?

WHY NOT?: Why can we not have a better solution to such problems?
I never had this problem of having to take shower in hot water (in Summers) while living in a not-so remote village in Orissa. There were wells, most of which dried up though during summers. Unlike Mumbai, Delhi there was no easy access to clean drinking water though. So, where is the ideal solution - somewhere in between?
Why can we not have naturally ventilated and cooled houses? Why can we not escape the A.Cs?
Why can we not escape drinking water from the bottles kept in refrigerator(which are too cold to drink often) or at room temperature (at 38-40! deg C)?
Whay can we not think that these things are for people who read/write in Science journal or do their PhDs or get Nobel Prizes?
Why can we not do anything about these things rather than read/write about them?
Why can we not build a smarter planet? (Thank IBM commercial for this)
WHY NOT?

present-future

“You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present." Looking For Alaska, John Green

Really ?
Got me thinking and thinking real hard.

stickiness

there is a certain stickiness,
in this - life.
why, look at this yesterday,
that had stuck so closely to today,
which shall do the same to tomorrow.

did they not tell you all days are similar,
monday, tuesday,sunday,saturday, anyday.
all people are the same - all people,
he, she, all of them, who, not them.
same are all tasks, and routine,
this and that, just like that.

dont be deluded by the changing hues
of the day,
of the moving hands of the clock,
of the greying of hair,
of lines on forehead.
Look deep, deeper and you would find;
surreptitious in its appearance,
glib in its talk - Futility.

A certain kind of refusal to acknowldge,
what is glaring one in the face as May's sun and
burning the skin of one's neck.
A pile of habits and routines of work and otherwise
You have hid in, Ostrich-like.

Too unfamiliar, you say?
Unchartered sea? El dorado?
Fantasy? Too risky?
Who can predict the future?
Well then, that's why I say
There is a certain stickieness..

kabir: avadhuta gagan ghata

in the world that we live in today, divisiveness has become the order of the day.
Divisions, chasms on the lines of wealth, social class, faith and education (unfortunate paradox) are rampant. Even on the path to liberation and knowledge (as you would have seen education has lost its purpose) there is so much duality. This duality is the root of all illusion or maya. As depicted by Kabir in 'Maya maha thugini' (see below) it remains in close proximity to all of us, in forms we fail to see because it is 'maya'.
Well, the point is Kabir, in his teachings, in his use of language and metaphors has always taken care of this aspect. So, we find his verses,poems and teachings very much rooted in the very earth he stood on and the people he lived with. No esoterism, no divisions, on this path, there are only travelers. Hence, the use of simple examples and metaphors to demonstrate the highest Truths.

An example would be this poem (heard it on a CD 'Nirgun ke Gun' Kumar Gandharva)

Avadhuta Gagan Ghata Geharani Re

Pachm Disa Se Ulti Badali,
Rum Jhum Barse Meha
Utho Gyani Khet Sambharo
Behe Nisrega Pani

Nirat Surat Ke Bel Banawo,
Beeja Bovo Nij Dhani
Dubadhya Dup Jaman Nahi Pawe,
Bovo Naam Ki Dhani

Charon Kone Char Rakhwale,
Chug Na Jawe Mrig Dhani
Katya Khet Meenda Ghar Lyawe,
Jaki Puran Kisani

Paanch Sakhi Mil Kare Rasoi
Jeehme Muni Aur Gyani
Kahe Kabir Suno Bhai Sadho
Bovo Naam Ki Dhani

O Unattached One!
Dark clouds are looming over the sky.

The winds have turned back from the west,
Don't miss the rhythmic rain,
Wake up O enlightened, tend to your fields,
Else, all water will drain away in vain.

Let's make a creeper of song and face, (naam aur rupa)
By planting the seed of Self,
Sow the seed of 'Naama',
Don't let the weeds of doubt settle.

Four guards (truth, detachment, celibacy, naama) on four sides keep watch,
Lest, the deer (senses) graze the crops,
Cut the harvest, and bring it home
And offer it to the Lord.

Five friends (senses) cook together,
Even saints and knowledgable ones are in the soup,
Says Kabir listen O noble ones,
Sow the seed of 'Naama'

kabir - kya maangoon

Kya Mangoon Kutch Thir Na Rahyee
Dekhat Nayan Jalya Jag Jayee
Ik Lakh Poot Sava Lakh Naati
Ta Ravan Dhari Diya Na Baati
Lanka So Kot Samad Si Khayee
Ta Ravan Ka Khabar Na Paayee
Aavat Sang Na Javat Sangati
Kaha Bhayo Dar Bandhe Hathi
Kahat Kabir Unt Ki Baari
Jhari Jaise Chale Juwari

the question i sometimes struggle a lot with - what should i ask for ?

Kabir answers.

what should i ask for in my prayer
when nothing stays still,
when the whole world burn's,
at a moment's mere will.

sons and grandsons,
friends and relatives,
none to show a lamp to Ravan (mighty one of Lanka)
all fled before like fugitives.

wealth and fame
possessions, fortresses
left Ravana alone, of whom
we don't even find traces

we have come alone,
and shall leave alone,
with nothing in hand,
says Kabir like a gambler forlorn.

kabir - maya maha thugini

maya - the illusory power of Lord (bhagwan ki mohini shakti). Considered to be very very powerful, because it is a power of god. Only to the Lord does it bow, or only by Lord's grace does it spare man. One may always be deluded to have conquered maya but she somehow finds her place to become the veil between man and his ultimate perception.

Kabir in his own style - of truthful, plain and unrestrained style puts this forth in this beautiful song.

Again something I heard at a play called Kabir - played at Mumbai by Sukumar Sen.

Maya Maha Thugni Hum Jaani ||
Tirgun Phans Liye Kar Dole
Bole Madhuri Bani ||

I know it very well,
this delusion of maya.
she roams unhindered
with the knot of three gunas (rajas,sattwa and tamas)
and speaks in sweet voices.


Kesav Ke Kamla Ve Baithi
Shiv Ki Bhavan Bhavani |
Punda Ke Murat Ve Baithi
Tirath Mein Bhai Pani ||

Look how hideously she lurks close
to all that you call good or pure
As Lakshmi she sits near Vishnu
As Parvati near Shiva
As the idol before the pundit
and as sacred water in sacred lands.

Yogi Ke Yogin Ve Baithi
Raja Ke Ghar Rani |
Kahu Ke Hira Ve Baithi
Kahu Ke Kodi Kani ||
Sits as companion of yogis,
as queen in the house of the king
for some it is the diamond
for some it sits as the penny

Bhaktan Ke Bhaktin Veh Baithi
Brahma Ke Brahmani |
Kahe Kabir Suno Bhai Sadho
Yeh Sab Akath Kahani ||

look how she sits as bhakti of the devotee
as Saraswati with Brahma
Kabir says O noble ones,
this is the unsaid tale.

kabir - hirnaa

Free translation of a song of Kabir.
there a beautiful rendition of this song by Kumar Gandharva

Hirna Samajh Boojh Ban Charna ||

O senses-deer carefully tread,
The woods of senses dreaded.

Ek Ban Charna Duje Ban Charna
Tije Ban Pag Nahin Dharna ||
Roam care-free in the first forest
of truth-bliss-absolute
Also roam in the second
of feeling and thought
But, stay away from the third
Stay away from the third.

Tije Ban Mein Panch Paardhi
Un Ke Nazar Nahin Padna ||
Five hunter-senses mighty lurk in the third,
avert their probing gaze like pray bird.

Panch Hirana Pachis Hirni
Un Mein Ek Chatur Na ||
Twenty-five female deers, all fools
will engage you in their tools.

Toye Mar Tero Mas Bikawe
Tere Khal Ka Karenge Bichona ||
will kill you and sell you flesh
and would sleep on any useful remains

Kahe Kabira Jo Suno Bhai Sadho
Guru Ke Charan Chit Dharna ||
kabir says listen o noble ones
fix your hearts on the lotus feet of gurus.

clouds

The clouds promised to return. Some interaction, even though the people involved may wish otherwise, can not go on forever, nothing can for that matter. There has to be a pause, a periodic or final one, for the cycle to repeat. The clouds, have to go away, it is in their nature to do so, they knew what they were doing, they knew it is a part of the routine, the dry parched land alas did not.
Was not the summer long, the sun cruel, the dry winds unforgiving ? When all its children, whom it had nourished green and bountiful, suffered, how it wished it could provide them some care, some consolation, some relief as it had always done. But, he had to be the helpless migrant worker without work, who could only watch his kids writhe in hunger and pain. Did anyone, save the touring clouds and the migratory nights, understand the heat within its bosom and heat from the tyrant sun?
Now even, the clouds are going away. But where?
'To some other fortunate land?' or 'Did they actually dry up themselves?' or as they say 'to the sea again'.
Maybe it is normal - this transience, this changing nature of everything. Even it had changed a lot. It had become harder and dryer. Is it age?
It remembered the warm scent of the day when they met for the first time and looked with longing to the last tranche of clouds recede past the horizon.

awkward

They could hardly look into each others eyes. They were not sure how to greet, say hello or shake hands or smile and raise eyebrows or hug each other. Time and distance, not merely the physical ones, does funny things to memory. You think a person would like something, or dislike something else, based on your memory, but the person's preferences have changed! Why should they not, everything, almost everything does.
Why can't this memory change?

Well, she smiled, he could not hear what she said before or after, he could only smile back. No civilities exchanged, no 'whats up', 'how r you doing', no 'how r things at ur end'. There was a kind of silence, an inappropriateness of situation or setting, loss not merely words but something else.
There were other people as well, it was a reunion both were not sure about. Not sure whether the other would come, not sure whether they themselves would like to come or whether they would like the other to come. But they did.

Man tends to become somewhat superficial with a certain age (needless to say it is the age in between) and notices the temporary things more keenly. Phrases such as 'You have lost/put on weight' 'What have you done to your skin' 'Nice hair cut' etc. are not uncommon as the first reactions when people meet, women can add many more to that 'clothes, jewelery, etc. etc.
He did notice some of such things, of course he would not share them with her or the group. What did she notice and what were the changes, he thought.They talked for some time, traffic,transport,weather,work, weekends are easy things to talk about you see. The harder questions need not be discussed, there are no easy answers and one may not share them in public. Both of them stayed away from any such veering towards such difficult questions.
This was not natural, he could sense milk in some pot simmering and about to spill out. Some hopeless waves crashing on either sides of iron walls of the large ship cutting the ocean separate. Women are usually good at this (managing emotions) and she was very good. A sip of beer, a puff or coffee usually help at such times. The funny thing is that you tend to think no one else, especially the people who are around you, understand or notice. After all nothing has happened right. But, I guess all of them do notice something happening or not happening. It continued for sometime and then they spoke a few words to each other. Neither of them were interested in the answers. This not what they normally do, never to each other. It was as if they had locked their own true selves in their rooms and come here. They were left alone.
They were supposed to go together in one direction (ironic to say the least).

Nothing changed. Not even when they were alone. Oh wait, they were not, there were their egos and history to give them company.
'See you' was said without any meaning or hope. On his way back, he was thinking of many things, humming a tune and then the word came to his head and he smiled and shut up. 'Awkward'

simple

Thanks for waking me up,
The sleep was deep and good,
But even better is waking up.
Your enthusiasm for the day is infectious,
So much to do, so much to think,
So much to talk, so much to listen,
So much to explore, so much to be curious about.

Take my hands in yours, let's hop and hum our ways through the day.
Let us dance in our hearts, celebrate the ever new love of our Father.
Discover the miracle in everyday, be the bliss-fountains we should.
Let's be good my dear, and let's do good.

some day

He thought they would travel together in a fast car, she would be driving, he would be playing with her hair and they would travel far into the unknown in a light drizzle. He would talk of Coelho, Hesse and she would talk of green valleys and dark clouds, she would talk of flags on top of temples and he would talk of contours on the hands of the village women, he would talk of staying there forever and she would talk of the next gas station, he would be silent for a while and she would ask why. He thought they would listen to the wind for hours, they would scratch the surface of sky thousand times, they would speak to the mountains who can hear everything, they would walk with the innocence of a child and play hide and seek with the sun-rays skidding on the edges of the mountains. He thought he would share all this with her some day.

He thought they would sit together watching the sea. Sitting on the wall facing the sea, munching nuts and saying nothing at all. His son would ask questions and he would feel wiser, they would run together and he would lag behind, he would be called forgetful and stupid as he would fail to remember some names, they would do it together - his son’s 1^st and his n+1^th beer, he would listen in rapt attentions as his son would tell him about solar flares and he would say “I don’t know” and his son would understand. Some day he thought.

He would turn inwards and be calm. He would ask and he would be answered. He would be inconsolable and he would be hugged. He would thank. Some day.

parvana

Another story (not original) popular story among Sufis...
shama : source of light , candle
parvane : also called patanga, a kind of moth

In a village there lived a group of moths called 'parvane'.
A group of flies met the King of the moths registered their complaint.
"Sir, we also have six-legs, wings and we also fly like you, why don't you proclaim us as 'parvane' as well ?"
The King replied "But you guys are flies, why do you want to called as 'parvane', there is a very fundamental difference between us and the other flying creatures like you."
"We don't see any difference, we are just like you - flying insects" retorted the flies.
The King gave in "Ok, go around the village in the evening and come back after one hour and tell me all the places that you see any source of light, be it earthen-lamp, candles, lantens or anything. I shall also send a group of moths with you at the same time."
Words had not stopped buzzing from the lips of the King moth and the flies flew away towards the village, and organised themselves during the flight - dividing themselves into groups and allocating different parts of the village in search of various sources of light. They wanted to come back with all the information before the moths could do so.
A group of moths also followed them, flying in different directions of the village.
The flies returned in less than an hour and started describing all the places where they saw light in the village. They were visibly tired but very accurate in their reporting.
"Now, do you accept that we can also be called 'parvane' and by the way, where have your moths, the so called great 'parvanes'?"
"You guys saw all the light that was there to see in the village and came back! My loved ones are called 'parvane' because the moment they see light, they can never leave it, even if it entails sacrifice of their selves in that love of light!. Go again to the places you saw and you find them somewhere there being one with the light." the King said as tears rolled down his eyes.

the need for not to talk gibberish

I have been used to this now - going to Prithvi alone to catch one or the other of the brilliant plays that they stage there. The following was a reaction to the people and the few minutes before the play starts.
__________

everyone, almost everyone was talking.
with people-of course, known and unknown.

WHY
nothing better to do,
wanted to talk
can't help it!
don't get much time together,
long time yea,
he is funny, thats why,
impress, impressed?
what else?
why not?


WHAT
oh ! this and that.
Office, office and ummm...well office!
sex, women, men, homosexuality.
pedicure, olive, papaya, treadmill,
wine, beer, death by chocolate,
where we had dinner, yesterdat, last week,
the week before, last month, the month before.
about everyone else !
nothhing yaar,
food, movies, SRK, darjeeling,
don't remember acually, who does?


CAN'T
stare and not ogle.
just sit and be comfortable.
shake and not fetter.
listen and not speak.
be and not acknowledged.
think and not fumble.
speak and not to anyone
listen and not from anyone.

CAN'T
do nothing.
look at blank spaces.
wring my hands for long.
sit at one place without having to move.
be busy with myself.
see the need, not to talk gibberish.

haircut

Couple of days back, I met one of my nephews. The 6 year old shares his pet name with me. The boy’s father was busy with some repair work and his mother with cooking. After trying to keep the boy amused (read not bored) with many silly and not-so-silly games I decided it was time to tell him a story. The same story is reproduced here.
There lived a very big bear in a very big jungle. His name was Kalu. Kalu was very upset. Kalu’s black hair had grown very very long. The long hair was a cause of worry to Kalu. It got stuck in the bushes, it fell over his eyes and hampered his vision, it attracted mosquitoes and lice and most importantly it made him look untidy and ugly.
Kalu wanted to get a haircut but there was no proper barber in the jungle.
Kalu put up a notice at the bank of the yellow pond and the blue river most animals frequented for drinking water. The notice read “Whosoever cuts the hair of Kalu- the bear, shall get a lots of honey in reward”
Kalu waited for the whole day, no one arrived. Kalu was becoming impatient and irritated. Then, Kalu saw Kalia – the crow coming towards his den.
“Good evening Kalu Sir!”
“Good evening Kalia, what brings you here?”
“What else but your notice at the pond, Kalu Sir”
“Do you know of any proper barber Kalia?”
“No one can cut your hair better than me. Look at my beaks, they are exactly like the scissors that Men use for cutting each others hair. I have seen the men at the nearby village having haircut. I shall use my beaks as scissors and cut all your hair. Then you will also look good as the men do after they have a haircut.”
“Really Kalia? I would be so thankful to you. You could have as much honey you want.”
Kalia started cutting Kalu’s hair. Kalia had really observed the haircutting of men very closely. Kalia was doing a fantastic job to begin with, but Kalia had two big problems. One that Kalia was getting very tired of using its beaks as scissors and fluttering its wings to stay on air and the other was that Kalia had to bring its face really close to Kalu’s body to cut his hair and his hair got into Kalia’s eyes. As a result, the pointed beaks of Kalia, used to pierce into Kalu’s body. Kalu tolerated this for the first, second and the third time, but the next time it happened Kalu lost his temper. Kalu grabbed then same beaks of the crow and shouted – “ You foolish crow, I am sure no man would have tried to cut another ones hair by injuring him so many times with the scissors or whatever they call it. Get lost or I shall break your beaks.”
Kalia somehow managed to get out of that place.
The next morning Kalu saw, Maima – the cow waiting outside his den.
“I can cut your hair well. Just the same way I graze upon grass.”
Kalu looked at the cow, and then at her teeth. They were neat, symmetrical and sharp. Kalu thought – Whats the harm in trying her out.
“Be careful though, I have had a very bad experience yesterday with another one pretending to be a proper barber”
Maima started cutting the bear’s hair by grabbing a mouthful and then using her sharp teeth to cut and pull it out. Kalu was strong and withstood the pull. Kalu did not particularly like the style of the cow. The cows have a habit of chewing the same things over and over again and in the process take their tounge out.
Maima, did the same. After it had chewed of some of Kalu’s hair, it chewed it again and again and its wet toungue touched Kalu’s skin.
Kalu thundered - “Ewwww. You dirty idiot. How on earth can you cut someone’s hair like that?”
“That’s the only way I know”
“Be gone, you have already spoilt my morning”
Kalu had given up hope.
“Kalu brother, I can be of some help to you”, said a tiny ant from some distance.
“You ! A small ant, and what help can you render. If you start cutting my hair it would take you thousand years to cut all of them” said Kalu.
“Dear brother leave that to me and my group of ants” said the ant whose name was Rani.
“But how would you do it. More small ants are still small ants and let me remind you I have had two horrible experiences. I can ill afford another one”
“Don’t bother, but you have to do one help to us”
“Tell me”
“You eat as much honey as you want to in the evening but before going to sleep please smear some of it on your body. You surely cannot dislike the smell of honey would you?”
“Ok I will do that”
Kalu went to sleep that night after smearing some honey over his hair all over his body.
He was not sure how the ants are going to do their job. But he had no option.
The next morning Kalu woke up and found a whole pile of hair all around his body.
He went to the pond and saw his reflection. His hair was cut neatly and uniformly.
He was very happy and impressed with the ants. He took out some honey and called for the ants.
The ants came out of small holes led by Rani.
“How did you guys do it?” asked a pleasantly surprised Kalu.
“ Kalu brother, we work as a team and with a lot of planning and organization. Remember last night we asked you to smear some honey on your hair. We formed groups among ourselves and divided your body into 6 parts. Your head, your 4 limbs and rest of your body. Then we set ourselves a goal. The goal was to collect as much honey as possible from your body and in the process each ant would climb on each of your hair and cut it at the point where a drop of honey was found!”
“Brilliant, you guys earn yourself this whole pot of honey. Enjoy” saying this Kalu handed them the whole pot of honey.

Aur 'Use' pyar dena

the poem is in Hindi

'Use' (read in Hindi), as the name suggests can be the name of anyone ! (literally)
December 1 -was celebrated as World AIDS Day

Mushkil Nahi,
Pyase ko dena pani,
Ghav sehla dena,
Thake ko dena chaon,
Aur Use pyar dena !
Mushkil Nahin (2)

tumhara dost, tumhara bhai,
kal tak jiske saath saath
gulli mein khelte the cricket,
ya barish mein jumke football.

aaj akela band kamre mein
nafrat aur ghruna
ke adheron mein
kucch dhoondh raha hai...
tumhari insaniyat
tumhara saath
tumhara pyar

Pyase ko dena pani,
Ghav sehla dena,
Thake ko dena chaon,
Aur Use pyar dena !
Itna Mushkil to Nahin