The more I study religions the more I am convinced that man never worshipped anything but himself.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
WINNING OVER TEMPTATIONS
Temptations are magnetic
Mortals enticed by design
Too vulnerable, too feeble
Adams and Eves still alive.
I was the devil’s advocate
I fancied straying,
Eagerly waiting to fall
I still smirk when I recall.
A wanton want crippled me
Into a futile sham it turned
My modest ego recklessly stifled
But saved from eternal damnation.
The deafening shrieks and shouts
Tears and blood in bouts,
I witnessed the pain
I was the slayer and the slain.
I was the undisputed winner
Undoubtedly the loser too.
As I won, I lost what I desired
Alas! The desirable was worth losing to.
The irony, desire never died
The will to possess still alive
Chaos and utter mayhem
A battle for good that was won.
I tremble, fetch and mourn
My last wish-you to own
I fret, the loss was too dear
I wish myself to be seared.
For my soul to survive
My mortal desires ought to die
I will burn and dissolve
Waiting for devil’s call.
I am dead, I am alive
With tears and with smiles.
It is difficult to rejoice
When a part of you dies.
But stay and listen
The bellowing dead souls
The shrieks get louder
As dead desires, I invoke.
The congregation of dead soul tells
“Desires on you would eternally dwell
Win, tame and possess them: if you can
But never be the lost enticed soul in their clan.”
Temptations lure and cripple us
They chain their masters to slaves,
Masters traded to stimulate dead desires
Struggling to be unchained but in vain.
My fall was but to rise.
I will be free, I will see the open sky,
My dreams, aspirations and ambitions
Will paint and fill the sky.
I am unchained,I have tamed thee.
Mortals enticed by design
Too vulnerable, too feeble
Adams and Eves still alive.
I was the devil’s advocate
I fancied straying,
Eagerly waiting to fall
I still smirk when I recall.
A wanton want crippled me
Into a futile sham it turned
My modest ego recklessly stifled
But saved from eternal damnation.
The deafening shrieks and shouts
Tears and blood in bouts,
I witnessed the pain
I was the slayer and the slain.
I was the undisputed winner
Undoubtedly the loser too.
As I won, I lost what I desired
Alas! The desirable was worth losing to.
The irony, desire never died
The will to possess still alive
Chaos and utter mayhem
A battle for good that was won.
I tremble, fetch and mourn
My last wish-you to own
I fret, the loss was too dear
I wish myself to be seared.
For my soul to survive
My mortal desires ought to die
I will burn and dissolve
Waiting for devil’s call.
I am dead, I am alive
With tears and with smiles.
It is difficult to rejoice
When a part of you dies.
But stay and listen
The bellowing dead souls
The shrieks get louder
As dead desires, I invoke.
The congregation of dead soul tells
“Desires on you would eternally dwell
Win, tame and possess them: if you can
But never be the lost enticed soul in their clan.”
Temptations lure and cripple us
They chain their masters to slaves,
Masters traded to stimulate dead desires
Struggling to be unchained but in vain.
My fall was but to rise.
I will be free, I will see the open sky,
My dreams, aspirations and ambitions
Will paint and fill the sky.
I am unchained,I have tamed thee.
Friday, November 30, 2007
AN ELEGY
As a cherub, I saw light of the day
Tender hands & dazzling smiles
Those eyes I cannot forget
Alas! That touch I can no longer sense.
Those tapping fingers & infinite jingles
Lovable-adorable tone
To tempt me for an afternoon doze
Frantically I long for those moments.
The loss of someone so dear
Makes me one less a person
A presence that was omnipotent
Now an empty vacuum surrounds me.
Life lost in a blink
Life sealed as memory in ink
All I have is fond recollection
All smiles and tears abandon me now.
You saw me through as a toddler & a teen
All the spats & rows seem worth it now
As your jewel tinkers crimson-cherry
I miss the joy & bliss you would feel.
I pledge to value every passing second
I assure never to let my shine lessen and die
Till I cease to exist as a memory
You will live & breathe in my soul eternally.
Dadaji-May God Bless Your Soul.
Tender hands & dazzling smiles
Those eyes I cannot forget
Alas! That touch I can no longer sense.
Those tapping fingers & infinite jingles
Lovable-adorable tone
To tempt me for an afternoon doze
Frantically I long for those moments.
The loss of someone so dear
Makes me one less a person
A presence that was omnipotent
Now an empty vacuum surrounds me.
Life lost in a blink
Life sealed as memory in ink
All I have is fond recollection
All smiles and tears abandon me now.
You saw me through as a toddler & a teen
All the spats & rows seem worth it now
As your jewel tinkers crimson-cherry
I miss the joy & bliss you would feel.
I pledge to value every passing second
I assure never to let my shine lessen and die
Till I cease to exist as a memory
You will live & breathe in my soul eternally.
Dadaji-May God Bless Your Soul.
Friday, October 26, 2007
FOR YOU-OUT OF LOVE
Out of love
Out of breath.
Rapt in admiration
Fluttering my faction.
Away from my being
Away from you.
I am sinking
I feel weak.
Clasp the string
Touch my wings.
No Icarus I wish to be
Mere desire to fly with thee.
Moments pass by
Love struck I lie.
Hiding from Cupid
Now gripped in his fist.
Not unaware of the fatal arrow
Nevertheless, cheerful in dusty gallows.
No wound hurts
No fear lurks.
Awaiting the crash in love
I know not where to steer.
Alas, love is blind
Look, all colors are alive.
Stares and glances
Stolen moments and missed chances.
Chronicled recollections of when we met
Sometimes a sigh of regret.
Flirtations and sweet temptations
Silent and unsaid charming declarations.
At last broken expectations
Sessions of lamentations.
All dreams of castles trampled
Rosy eyes in respite when dampened.
Reminiscing turns bitter
Sweet temptation turns to jitters.
Amid the ruins I flew
Lost and abandoned by you.
Grateful for the chances we missed
Alas, liberated now to follow my bliss.
In peace you will rest in my past
As I practice the insipid sumptuous repast.
Out of love
Out of breath.
Rapt in self-admiration
Fluttering my faction.
Closed to you
Closed closer to my being.
Out of breath.
Rapt in admiration
Fluttering my faction.
Away from my being
Away from you.
I am sinking
I feel weak.
Clasp the string
Touch my wings.
No Icarus I wish to be
Mere desire to fly with thee.
Moments pass by
Love struck I lie.
Hiding from Cupid
Now gripped in his fist.
Not unaware of the fatal arrow
Nevertheless, cheerful in dusty gallows.
No wound hurts
No fear lurks.
Awaiting the crash in love
I know not where to steer.
Alas, love is blind
Look, all colors are alive.
Stares and glances
Stolen moments and missed chances.
Chronicled recollections of when we met
Sometimes a sigh of regret.
Flirtations and sweet temptations
Silent and unsaid charming declarations.
At last broken expectations
Sessions of lamentations.
All dreams of castles trampled
Rosy eyes in respite when dampened.
Reminiscing turns bitter
Sweet temptation turns to jitters.
Amid the ruins I flew
Lost and abandoned by you.
Grateful for the chances we missed
Alas, liberated now to follow my bliss.
In peace you will rest in my past
As I practice the insipid sumptuous repast.
Out of love
Out of breath.
Rapt in self-admiration
Fluttering my faction.
Closed to you
Closed closer to my being.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Thoughts on Movie DOR( Gul Panag, Ayesha Takia)
“Dor is a story about love, loss, friendship, hope and ultimately redemption.
Zeenat, an independent and self-assured young woman, lives in a Kashmiri village where she falls in love with Aamir, who she marries the day before he leaves to take up a job in Saudi Arabia. Far away in rural Rajasthan, Meera bids farewell to her new husband Shankar, who is also on his way to a job in the Middle East. Meera and Zeenat miss their husbands and get to talk to them occasionally on the phone.
The two sets of lives come collapsing down when a horrible piece of news reaches them. Shankar has been killed, and Aamir has been arrested on the charge of murder.
The truth comes out into the open and the two women have a confrontation. Meera feels betrayed, Zeenat helpless. How is the situation resolved? Does Zeenat succeed in her quest to save Aamir’s life? The film builds towards climax where these issues are resolved through a powerful and unexpected ending.”
This was an excerpt from a passage at the back of a DVD of Dor. Dor seems to be a flick made with a lot of soul. I feel it is a flick seen too late by me. The issues raised in Dor are neither unique nor universal. Dor exemplifies the existence of goodness and humanity in commonplace individuals. In the movie, life becomes a journey and destinations are mere milestones. There would be fellow travelers who can be angelic, devilish or indifferent in the course of our journey.
Like Zeenat and Meera, we would also face several mishaps in our journey wherein our faith and resolve would dwindle. These difficulties define our character and willpower. Meera a victim of social evils demonstrated that we have the power to make our own destinies no matter in how unjust and ill-fated circumstances we are. Her friendship with Zeenat gave her a fresh perspective into life and its importance. Dor literally means a long thread signifying an unobserved bond between every individual we stumble upon in our journey. Consciously or unconsciously, we do transform with every encounter we have with anyone during our existence. Meera and Zeenat could have very well made peace with the situation and felt helpless throughout their life. Nevertheless, they set out onto their journeys.
Zeenat’s sole aim was to get the forgiveness letter signed by Meera-Shankar’s widow. Zeenat was determined to find Meera somehow. Meera was literally untraceable except for by a photograph. Zeenat had set forth on a journey to save her husband and therefore finding Meera. The two women finally met after many efforts. Meera-a widow was living a miserable life of slaves. Her in-laws wanted to sell her off for petty monetary gains. Zeenat took Meera out of her exile and gave her a new perspective of life. In the course of their expedition, a lot of self-discovery takes place.
In each of us lies the strength and mettle to change the course of our lives. With all difficulties, we have a set of choices. It is our discretion whether we wish to be mere slaves of fate or desire to paint our lives taking full responsibility of our actions. Dor is a tale of self-discovery wherein every encounter becomes a learning experience for Zeenat and Meera. The movie exemplifies power of fortitude and wisdom. The essence being that our decisions and choices also give us the power to define the course of lives of people connected to us by birth, choice or fate.
Thoughts of free-will & freedom makes us selfish. We become ruthless and indifferent to our opposition. Meera and Zeenat were characters with strong orientation towards being self-reliant and self-directed. Meera became an angel when she decided to forgive Aamir who was partly responsible for her husband’s death. Meera’s response to this situation held the key for Zeenat’s happiness. Zeenat in turn made a resolve to save Meera from social evils. Our determination makes us the person we want to be. We can be as we wish to be. That divine strand-Dor is unseen and spins itself giving an opportunity to every mortal. That Dor was alternatively with Meera as well as Zeenat. We should have the might to listen to the Inner-voice and act on it without being selfish-blinded by our interests.
Each one has to manage several such Strands that silently affect many lives. Great visionaries manage to cope with the realization of such opportunities. In every stroke of luck, life and happiness, there is a Divine Intervention. DOR exhibits only one such situation which gives mere humans the power to pass divine judgments. An individual’s resolution can be a blessing and at times a curse. Let us start counting our blessings with humility and goodness.
DOR can be a story of any of us.
Lets pledge to give such stories a chance by being a good co-passenger in our journey.
We might have to be anyone from the Victim to The Benefiaciary to The Divine Intervener.
World is but a Stage...Keep Acting...........
Zeenat, an independent and self-assured young woman, lives in a Kashmiri village where she falls in love with Aamir, who she marries the day before he leaves to take up a job in Saudi Arabia. Far away in rural Rajasthan, Meera bids farewell to her new husband Shankar, who is also on his way to a job in the Middle East. Meera and Zeenat miss their husbands and get to talk to them occasionally on the phone.
The two sets of lives come collapsing down when a horrible piece of news reaches them. Shankar has been killed, and Aamir has been arrested on the charge of murder.
The truth comes out into the open and the two women have a confrontation. Meera feels betrayed, Zeenat helpless. How is the situation resolved? Does Zeenat succeed in her quest to save Aamir’s life? The film builds towards climax where these issues are resolved through a powerful and unexpected ending.”
This was an excerpt from a passage at the back of a DVD of Dor. Dor seems to be a flick made with a lot of soul. I feel it is a flick seen too late by me. The issues raised in Dor are neither unique nor universal. Dor exemplifies the existence of goodness and humanity in commonplace individuals. In the movie, life becomes a journey and destinations are mere milestones. There would be fellow travelers who can be angelic, devilish or indifferent in the course of our journey.
Like Zeenat and Meera, we would also face several mishaps in our journey wherein our faith and resolve would dwindle. These difficulties define our character and willpower. Meera a victim of social evils demonstrated that we have the power to make our own destinies no matter in how unjust and ill-fated circumstances we are. Her friendship with Zeenat gave her a fresh perspective into life and its importance. Dor literally means a long thread signifying an unobserved bond between every individual we stumble upon in our journey. Consciously or unconsciously, we do transform with every encounter we have with anyone during our existence. Meera and Zeenat could have very well made peace with the situation and felt helpless throughout their life. Nevertheless, they set out onto their journeys.
Zeenat’s sole aim was to get the forgiveness letter signed by Meera-Shankar’s widow. Zeenat was determined to find Meera somehow. Meera was literally untraceable except for by a photograph. Zeenat had set forth on a journey to save her husband and therefore finding Meera. The two women finally met after many efforts. Meera-a widow was living a miserable life of slaves. Her in-laws wanted to sell her off for petty monetary gains. Zeenat took Meera out of her exile and gave her a new perspective of life. In the course of their expedition, a lot of self-discovery takes place.
In each of us lies the strength and mettle to change the course of our lives. With all difficulties, we have a set of choices. It is our discretion whether we wish to be mere slaves of fate or desire to paint our lives taking full responsibility of our actions. Dor is a tale of self-discovery wherein every encounter becomes a learning experience for Zeenat and Meera. The movie exemplifies power of fortitude and wisdom. The essence being that our decisions and choices also give us the power to define the course of lives of people connected to us by birth, choice or fate.
Thoughts of free-will & freedom makes us selfish. We become ruthless and indifferent to our opposition. Meera and Zeenat were characters with strong orientation towards being self-reliant and self-directed. Meera became an angel when she decided to forgive Aamir who was partly responsible for her husband’s death. Meera’s response to this situation held the key for Zeenat’s happiness. Zeenat in turn made a resolve to save Meera from social evils. Our determination makes us the person we want to be. We can be as we wish to be. That divine strand-Dor is unseen and spins itself giving an opportunity to every mortal. That Dor was alternatively with Meera as well as Zeenat. We should have the might to listen to the Inner-voice and act on it without being selfish-blinded by our interests.
Each one has to manage several such Strands that silently affect many lives. Great visionaries manage to cope with the realization of such opportunities. In every stroke of luck, life and happiness, there is a Divine Intervention. DOR exhibits only one such situation which gives mere humans the power to pass divine judgments. An individual’s resolution can be a blessing and at times a curse. Let us start counting our blessings with humility and goodness.
DOR can be a story of any of us.
Lets pledge to give such stories a chance by being a good co-passenger in our journey.
We might have to be anyone from the Victim to The Benefiaciary to The Divine Intervener.
World is but a Stage...Keep Acting...........
Saturday, October 6, 2007
How to become a CYNICALLY REAL PRAGMATIST
Rightly said nothing lasts forever- Love, hate, peace, terror, friendship and enmity all are situational catalysts. The only common string that joins them is memory. We reminisce. Our past is full of mixed emotions. No happiness lasts forever and no sadness ever seems bearable. Tears flow and are wasted. The realization dawns later that no tear can ever explicate the grief that tears the heart into pieces. A recall some months down the line elucidates the fact that nothing is worth the Trauma. We move on, we progress and leave the people in the wake of Happiness. Sometimes we let others move on without being selfish for their good and many a times we disappear because we are selfish and want to search for our own hinterland.
The case remains why it pains when a bad memory confronts us. In the wake of becoming stronger, we escape and live vicariously. All of us are scared of the reality. Reality is the truth that is bitter and far from idealistic state of affairs. Accepting the truth and honestly taking the blame for our misdemeanors is a tough ask. Acceptance becomes tough because we lack the conviction and doubt our ability to withstand the sight of the ruins. The real cause of the agony always remains a mystery. The factors causing the worry can be internal or external but results in either self-pity or a make-belief superiority complex. The “wise” individuals go through a tedious process, moments in deep reverie, dissonance, finally attain Unison.
Ironically, very few Homo sapiens ever learn from these thoughtful sessions. We commit the same mistakes still living in the illusion that “then was a bad time and bad luck”. Only thing we forget that luck only favors the prepared mind. We have to learn and believe in ourselves. We should have a firm faith that we will be penalized if we are irrational. Alas, we live on the belief that good will happen if we remain good.
The crux of our existence is hope and faith. These are the two pillars of our survival. Ironically, we cling to these in the times of trouble thinking of them as life-supports but in reality, they are the toxic gases. Faith and hope make a perfect human romantic and impractical. We expect miracles to happen, become starry-eyed. Countless times life brings us to our feet, we plead, in dissonance, in deep reverie losing unity with self. We aimed at being a realist and on the contrary, we become Cynics. When we reach a certain height of cynicism, we are most vulnerable and gullible. Closed to all who are aliens we are happy in our own shells. Happy… but in weak moments, we let someone pierce the shell. We cling on to the fatal pillars that made us weak and cold.
We can never become cynics in the true sense of the word. We all crave for love, companionship and happiness. Memories, faith and hope make us frail only when we wish to become so. These human emotions should give us a sense of security and strength to withstand hardships of life. This is how we learn to take things in our stride. We need to define the purpose of our existence and take up our calling in life. All our memories have a meaning, all hopes have strength to turn into reality and there is faith that reality is what we deserve at that moment of time.
We question and speculate the validity of outcomes to realize much later all does happen for the best. We hope for better than the best to occur to us. We become impulsive and unreasonable, demanding momentary joys that never traverse in the pathways of our memory. Instantaneous joys often are better than reality; something that we say is too good to be true. Hence its not meant to be…its not reality. Such moments always make us weak, wobbly and uneasy, something we would not cherish. In short, a negation of memory. Impulsive and short-lived emotions neither give us hope nor re-instill our faith. When such emotions commute the lanes of our Tinsel Memory Town darkness and pollution suffocate us through many Cynical gases. We understand the crux of every emotion. This understanding comes truly with age, time and experience. We can be Cynics, Realists or just follow a religion called Pragmatism.
What we call as a generation gap is nothing but shift of perspective. My Hopes, My memories and My faith make me what I choose to be. I wish to become a CYNICALLY REAL PRAGMATIST. Alas still dreaming like an IDEALIST. That is the only IRONY.
The case remains why it pains when a bad memory confronts us. In the wake of becoming stronger, we escape and live vicariously. All of us are scared of the reality. Reality is the truth that is bitter and far from idealistic state of affairs. Accepting the truth and honestly taking the blame for our misdemeanors is a tough ask. Acceptance becomes tough because we lack the conviction and doubt our ability to withstand the sight of the ruins. The real cause of the agony always remains a mystery. The factors causing the worry can be internal or external but results in either self-pity or a make-belief superiority complex. The “wise” individuals go through a tedious process, moments in deep reverie, dissonance, finally attain Unison.
Ironically, very few Homo sapiens ever learn from these thoughtful sessions. We commit the same mistakes still living in the illusion that “then was a bad time and bad luck”. Only thing we forget that luck only favors the prepared mind. We have to learn and believe in ourselves. We should have a firm faith that we will be penalized if we are irrational. Alas, we live on the belief that good will happen if we remain good.
The crux of our existence is hope and faith. These are the two pillars of our survival. Ironically, we cling to these in the times of trouble thinking of them as life-supports but in reality, they are the toxic gases. Faith and hope make a perfect human romantic and impractical. We expect miracles to happen, become starry-eyed. Countless times life brings us to our feet, we plead, in dissonance, in deep reverie losing unity with self. We aimed at being a realist and on the contrary, we become Cynics. When we reach a certain height of cynicism, we are most vulnerable and gullible. Closed to all who are aliens we are happy in our own shells. Happy… but in weak moments, we let someone pierce the shell. We cling on to the fatal pillars that made us weak and cold.
We can never become cynics in the true sense of the word. We all crave for love, companionship and happiness. Memories, faith and hope make us frail only when we wish to become so. These human emotions should give us a sense of security and strength to withstand hardships of life. This is how we learn to take things in our stride. We need to define the purpose of our existence and take up our calling in life. All our memories have a meaning, all hopes have strength to turn into reality and there is faith that reality is what we deserve at that moment of time.
We question and speculate the validity of outcomes to realize much later all does happen for the best. We hope for better than the best to occur to us. We become impulsive and unreasonable, demanding momentary joys that never traverse in the pathways of our memory. Instantaneous joys often are better than reality; something that we say is too good to be true. Hence its not meant to be…its not reality. Such moments always make us weak, wobbly and uneasy, something we would not cherish. In short, a negation of memory. Impulsive and short-lived emotions neither give us hope nor re-instill our faith. When such emotions commute the lanes of our Tinsel Memory Town darkness and pollution suffocate us through many Cynical gases. We understand the crux of every emotion. This understanding comes truly with age, time and experience. We can be Cynics, Realists or just follow a religion called Pragmatism.
What we call as a generation gap is nothing but shift of perspective. My Hopes, My memories and My faith make me what I choose to be. I wish to become a CYNICALLY REAL PRAGMATIST. Alas still dreaming like an IDEALIST. That is the only IRONY.
Sunday, September 16, 2007
HOUSE OF COMMONS
Every day seems like a vicious circle. It starts and ends at the same disappointing juncture. When the shutters of eyes close what remains is nothingness. Self-obsession is a religion. Selfishness and eccentricity is the order of the day. “I” is more important than “we” are. Pleasure and luxury weigh heavier in our electronic balance. Fast money, fast relationships rule the planet. The dwellers of this House find it sinful to think. Rationality misunderstood as pragmatism. Sentiments and emotions are a passé. A warm welcome into the House of Commons.
The House of Commons unlike its real counterpart totally denies the existence of politics and hazardous intentions. The practice here is different from its preaching. The doors are open to all and no trespasser is prosecuted. Strangers pose no danger, as fellow dwellers are fatal enough. We fall prey to sweet-talks, injured, we change, we recoup. Everyday starts with an illusion that I am better than the yester self but alas it does not take long to come out of the world of rose-tinted glasses. All twinkling and starry eyes get cold dull with time. In the House of Commons, there are only two sects of dwellers superior and inferior. The yardstick is their yester self. The truth is every Commoner is conscious of the trajectory of their life. The rise-fall-balance all accounted for in the contemplative moments before the verdict.
For every action, there are equal and opposite verdicts. There are two rulers- Democracy and Autocracy. For House of Common collective conscience is named democracy while individually the commoners’ conscience is Autocrat. For societal rulings, Democrats win but Autocrat overrules all personal verdicts. These are mere slaves of our convenient-selfish conscience. Yes, they are hypocrites whose definition of ethics, morals and verdicts differs for self and society.
These commoners are distinct still so similar collectively. It is indeed Unity in Diversity. Individually we bend all rules and conveniently shove off issues of humanity, trust, peace and goodwill. “We” is not a unity of millions of “I” but a mere assortment of “They”. The truth is we cannot stand-alone, cannot stand for our beliefs. There is an inability to comprehend the true meaning of diversity. The commoners do not unite by choice but out of helplessness. Alienation from “we” and stress on “they” is the real eccentricity. “I” alone is nothing and hence Commoners become fatal for each other. “They” are guarding themselves from “We”. All the efforts are a defense. They and I are not able to fuse into We.
To preserve oneself from the society these common men/women become the predator as well as the prey. These social animals trapped in the vicious circle of social evils die into a deep slumber of disappointment in dark nights. The House of Commons can be free from discord if left unattended and unguarded from the strangers. To set forth equilibrium the state of anarchy be preserved. We can survive and unite in a democracy that is a façade continuing to be con artists. The House of Commons will crack with jitters of communalism, poverty, illiteracy, corruption and politics but we will do just fine with make-belief repairs. Until the realization of a looming quake, we will be a sovereign, secular democracy. Amen.
The House of Commons unlike its real counterpart totally denies the existence of politics and hazardous intentions. The practice here is different from its preaching. The doors are open to all and no trespasser is prosecuted. Strangers pose no danger, as fellow dwellers are fatal enough. We fall prey to sweet-talks, injured, we change, we recoup. Everyday starts with an illusion that I am better than the yester self but alas it does not take long to come out of the world of rose-tinted glasses. All twinkling and starry eyes get cold dull with time. In the House of Commons, there are only two sects of dwellers superior and inferior. The yardstick is their yester self. The truth is every Commoner is conscious of the trajectory of their life. The rise-fall-balance all accounted for in the contemplative moments before the verdict.
For every action, there are equal and opposite verdicts. There are two rulers- Democracy and Autocracy. For House of Common collective conscience is named democracy while individually the commoners’ conscience is Autocrat. For societal rulings, Democrats win but Autocrat overrules all personal verdicts. These are mere slaves of our convenient-selfish conscience. Yes, they are hypocrites whose definition of ethics, morals and verdicts differs for self and society.
These commoners are distinct still so similar collectively. It is indeed Unity in Diversity. Individually we bend all rules and conveniently shove off issues of humanity, trust, peace and goodwill. “We” is not a unity of millions of “I” but a mere assortment of “They”. The truth is we cannot stand-alone, cannot stand for our beliefs. There is an inability to comprehend the true meaning of diversity. The commoners do not unite by choice but out of helplessness. Alienation from “we” and stress on “they” is the real eccentricity. “I” alone is nothing and hence Commoners become fatal for each other. “They” are guarding themselves from “We”. All the efforts are a defense. They and I are not able to fuse into We.
To preserve oneself from the society these common men/women become the predator as well as the prey. These social animals trapped in the vicious circle of social evils die into a deep slumber of disappointment in dark nights. The House of Commons can be free from discord if left unattended and unguarded from the strangers. To set forth equilibrium the state of anarchy be preserved. We can survive and unite in a democracy that is a façade continuing to be con artists. The House of Commons will crack with jitters of communalism, poverty, illiteracy, corruption and politics but we will do just fine with make-belief repairs. Until the realization of a looming quake, we will be a sovereign, secular democracy. Amen.
Thursday, September 13, 2007
When you r gone- Avril lavigne
I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lie is made up on your side
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you're gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
I've never felt this way before
Everything that I do reminds me of you
And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
We were made for each other
Out here forever
I know we were, yeah
All I ever wanted was for you to know
Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul
I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah
I never thought I'd need you there when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lie is made up on your side
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
When you're gone
The face I came to know is missing too
When you're gone
The words I need to hear to always get me through the day and make it ok
I miss you
I've never felt this way before
Everything that I do reminds me of you
And the clothes you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you, I love the things that you do
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
We were made for each other
Out here forever
I know we were, yeah
All I ever wanted was for you to know
Everything I'd do, I'd give my heart and soul
I can hardly breathe I need to feel you here with me, yeah
Thursday, August 9, 2007
SELF- APART
I saw you rise, shine and set
With each day I still fret
Born like a phoenix
I am willing to be dead
With every death
I learn to live
At every end
I learn to begin
The start is hard
End a scar
All along bruised
Injuries accrued
A prey, I bleed
Start a screech
Deafening crippling
But still finding me
Miles apart
Distant sighs
Deceased sensation
Sweet sedation
I live the death
No wish to resurrect
Numbness is bliss
An icy heart I wish
Seclusion from civility
In delusion is divinity
Torn, I heal my wound
Unseen in the wrecked dome
At once in the crowd
I see, I still pretend
Forsaken in the mob
I can not spot myself
I exist in two lives
Namely death and strife
Strife dreaded, Death beloved
With their twin sty
I abandon my twin souls to strive
I quit now, self –Apart I lie
Self-Apart, I Depart……………………
With each day I still fret
Born like a phoenix
I am willing to be dead
With every death
I learn to live
At every end
I learn to begin
The start is hard
End a scar
All along bruised
Injuries accrued
A prey, I bleed
Start a screech
Deafening crippling
But still finding me
Miles apart
Distant sighs
Deceased sensation
Sweet sedation
I live the death
No wish to resurrect
Numbness is bliss
An icy heart I wish
Seclusion from civility
In delusion is divinity
Torn, I heal my wound
Unseen in the wrecked dome
At once in the crowd
I see, I still pretend
Forsaken in the mob
I can not spot myself
I exist in two lives
Namely death and strife
Strife dreaded, Death beloved
With their twin sty
I abandon my twin souls to strive
I quit now, self –Apart I lie
Self-Apart, I Depart……………………
Monday, August 6, 2007
A RENDEZVOUS WITH NATURE
On Friday, the 15th of June 2007 I along with a couple of friends had started off for Rishikesh-the land of gods and heavenly beauty. We had hired a taxi (AC) because the plains had become rather hot.
The journey as usual started off on a very weird note which is not uncanny (and I think dats auspicious) hehe……….a FLAT TYRE……..
Only thing I was looking forward to was the journey itself. A feast for eyes wherein even the mundane polluted abandoned deserted edifices-ruins-structures offer a novel insight.
I have an enduring belief that our eyes look at everything but see only when the psyche and body unite. When eyes search it’s a fixation and our mindful sight gets obsessed with the object. I “SAW” tons of structures of concrete throughout the pilgrimage. Yah it was a pilgrimage…to know MY GOD and follow MY RELIGION. I am the sermon, a tale to be read and understood by myself.
The philosophical diversion was very exhilarating but when dazed mind and youth blend the skirls create a trance. This trance was as pure as the ranting water of the Ganges. The journey was full of extremities from empty deserted roads to jam packed traffic jams, from maddening outpourings to the scorching sun, from a content belly to a killing void.
We were planning a halt at Cheetal Resort and were searching for it till midnight forgetting that it works on the concept of early to bed and early to rise. And the furious four were far from early risers and more of insomniacs. The expedition was educative and fascinating for my hungry mind. The darkness of the night was more enlightening, closer to life and more alive.
The minds at fire halted at Rishikesh the final destination without a reservation at 3 past midnight. The silence was refreshing and more secure unlike the silence of Delhi/ metro which is dreaded usually. The pristine environs were a delicacy for us. The Youth Hostel was the best possible temple for special creed of pilgrims. After feeding ourselves with a seemingly sumptuous feast we nourished our spirits.
Me and Smita (a fellow pilgrim & very dear friend) saw Rishikesh rise from the comforting darkness to a bright vivacious dawn. The process of sunrise and an advent of 16th June 07 was a laboratory experiment. I felt powerful not because I could control the experiment but because I felt one with nature…a part of the day. I was included with the clouds and birds in the celebration of a new dawn. I and Smita, two mortals mesmerized,
were the priests following the usual morning festivities. We greeted daylight with an intoxicating garland of sleep.
RIVER RAFTING is a practice with young pilgrims who visit the city. A water sport for which we shelled out Rs 400 per person (seemed a hype then) was worth every penny.
The thrill and adventure was unparalleled. The 90 minutes water stint was a victory for most of the fellow rafters. It was a triumph over apprehensions and restoration of faith in oneself. Belief in survival of the fittest (Darwin was not wrong indeed). The splash of cold Ganges acted as a coolant for the soul and cleansed the mind simultaneously. The experience was very subtle and incredible. Smita was a little afraid in the initial stages but she gracefully managed to survive. The gang members (Neha and Ri) also proved to be fit for survival in the extreme flow of the holy water.
It was hard to find civilized food as the place seemed to be more of desi ghee and masala cooking than anything that would help us to survive for 3 days. So we preferred to eat at the hotel itself and the meals were very sumptuous but sometimes bland.
For three days we knew only one part of Rishikesh- one opposite our room. The bond between the mountain range was inspiring. Each crevasse, each boulevard uphill (badrinath) was telling a story a journey through time. The witnesses were the clouds, birds, the Laxman Jhula as all lived like a community. From the windows, the doors and the spaces in the garden our eyes saw nothing but the expanse of two vast masses rising from the land. Theses were stirring the army of clouds ordering them to control activities of the sun with birds aiding to send messages across various sects of haze, mist and clouds.
A mass of white sand was shining all through the night. The moonlight made sand look divine and all the viewers were captivated because the gurgling misty water added the celestial touch. Recollections of the unimaginable sight in the night were so strong that I and Smita had found out a way to get to that white peninsular. We set off at 5 pm in shorts and t-shirt. After juggling on foot, taxi and rickshaw and reached the Hinterland. I felt like a chirpy fairy….it was a delight.
The night was full of smoke and mist. Most of it was human attempt to feel unison with nature. So natural grass and hash were used as a medium and the night went by in a trance. We waited for the sunrise but deep slumber had prevailed.
The following morning, Sunday, we set off for journey back to New Delhi. The hustle of the city was a welcome change. The whistle of chimneys, deafening sounds of shrieks, perpetual hunger-greed and blurring human shadows gave a sense of security. An assurance that adapting to the evils and understanding the sins is mandatory to attain sanity. Today, a Satan can tempt no Adam-Eve, as we all are an expression of human beauty and the human beast. The choice is critical. A tryst with nature and our reality can make us blinded to participate in the immense beauty or to own the power over it. I choose to be a part of the appreciative and constructive world. Learning about the human character has been possible by a rendezvous with nature.
I still have a long way to go to comprehend our true self.
The journey as usual started off on a very weird note which is not uncanny (and I think dats auspicious) hehe……….a FLAT TYRE……..
Only thing I was looking forward to was the journey itself. A feast for eyes wherein even the mundane polluted abandoned deserted edifices-ruins-structures offer a novel insight.
I have an enduring belief that our eyes look at everything but see only when the psyche and body unite. When eyes search it’s a fixation and our mindful sight gets obsessed with the object. I “SAW” tons of structures of concrete throughout the pilgrimage. Yah it was a pilgrimage…to know MY GOD and follow MY RELIGION. I am the sermon, a tale to be read and understood by myself.
The philosophical diversion was very exhilarating but when dazed mind and youth blend the skirls create a trance. This trance was as pure as the ranting water of the Ganges. The journey was full of extremities from empty deserted roads to jam packed traffic jams, from maddening outpourings to the scorching sun, from a content belly to a killing void.
We were planning a halt at Cheetal Resort and were searching for it till midnight forgetting that it works on the concept of early to bed and early to rise. And the furious four were far from early risers and more of insomniacs. The expedition was educative and fascinating for my hungry mind. The darkness of the night was more enlightening, closer to life and more alive.
The minds at fire halted at Rishikesh the final destination without a reservation at 3 past midnight. The silence was refreshing and more secure unlike the silence of Delhi/ metro which is dreaded usually. The pristine environs were a delicacy for us. The Youth Hostel was the best possible temple for special creed of pilgrims. After feeding ourselves with a seemingly sumptuous feast we nourished our spirits.
Me and Smita (a fellow pilgrim & very dear friend) saw Rishikesh rise from the comforting darkness to a bright vivacious dawn. The process of sunrise and an advent of 16th June 07 was a laboratory experiment. I felt powerful not because I could control the experiment but because I felt one with nature…a part of the day. I was included with the clouds and birds in the celebration of a new dawn. I and Smita, two mortals mesmerized,
were the priests following the usual morning festivities. We greeted daylight with an intoxicating garland of sleep.
RIVER RAFTING is a practice with young pilgrims who visit the city. A water sport for which we shelled out Rs 400 per person (seemed a hype then) was worth every penny.
The thrill and adventure was unparalleled. The 90 minutes water stint was a victory for most of the fellow rafters. It was a triumph over apprehensions and restoration of faith in oneself. Belief in survival of the fittest (Darwin was not wrong indeed). The splash of cold Ganges acted as a coolant for the soul and cleansed the mind simultaneously. The experience was very subtle and incredible. Smita was a little afraid in the initial stages but she gracefully managed to survive. The gang members (Neha and Ri) also proved to be fit for survival in the extreme flow of the holy water.
It was hard to find civilized food as the place seemed to be more of desi ghee and masala cooking than anything that would help us to survive for 3 days. So we preferred to eat at the hotel itself and the meals were very sumptuous but sometimes bland.
For three days we knew only one part of Rishikesh- one opposite our room. The bond between the mountain range was inspiring. Each crevasse, each boulevard uphill (badrinath) was telling a story a journey through time. The witnesses were the clouds, birds, the Laxman Jhula as all lived like a community. From the windows, the doors and the spaces in the garden our eyes saw nothing but the expanse of two vast masses rising from the land. Theses were stirring the army of clouds ordering them to control activities of the sun with birds aiding to send messages across various sects of haze, mist and clouds.
A mass of white sand was shining all through the night. The moonlight made sand look divine and all the viewers were captivated because the gurgling misty water added the celestial touch. Recollections of the unimaginable sight in the night were so strong that I and Smita had found out a way to get to that white peninsular. We set off at 5 pm in shorts and t-shirt. After juggling on foot, taxi and rickshaw and reached the Hinterland. I felt like a chirpy fairy….it was a delight.
The night was full of smoke and mist. Most of it was human attempt to feel unison with nature. So natural grass and hash were used as a medium and the night went by in a trance. We waited for the sunrise but deep slumber had prevailed.
The following morning, Sunday, we set off for journey back to New Delhi. The hustle of the city was a welcome change. The whistle of chimneys, deafening sounds of shrieks, perpetual hunger-greed and blurring human shadows gave a sense of security. An assurance that adapting to the evils and understanding the sins is mandatory to attain sanity. Today, a Satan can tempt no Adam-Eve, as we all are an expression of human beauty and the human beast. The choice is critical. A tryst with nature and our reality can make us blinded to participate in the immense beauty or to own the power over it. I choose to be a part of the appreciative and constructive world. Learning about the human character has been possible by a rendezvous with nature.
I still have a long way to go to comprehend our true self.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
On my own...ALONE
A lot of words unsaid,
Plenty of dreams dead.
Where did I falter?
I am anxious to know.
Quiet and reserved,
Heart broken and numb.
Anesthetized I lie,
Alone amidst countless silent sighs.
Alas! Never sensed the touch of hope.
The garb of pretense and love
I have to shove,
But I am forbidden to let go.
Impossible to worship you
Uneasy the existence becomes
Dissonance and conflict
Still I wish to hold on.
Faith dying lifeless,
Discord in abundance.
Erased chronicles,
Maneuvering expectations.
Crack of dawn
I plead to live on,
Like a phoenix
I rise from my dead.
Now, I disregard my past
No inscriptions last,
I breathe, I survive
Without a sigh.
The art, the life
The quick disguise
An eyewitness to all
I am the master of the Ball.
Devoid of apprehensions
In the moments alive
My moans now unvoiced
Only a prolonged smile
Losing my religion
I Confess am blinded
For good, I need you no further
I am on my own….Alone……….
Plenty of dreams dead.
Where did I falter?
I am anxious to know.
Quiet and reserved,
Heart broken and numb.
Anesthetized I lie,
Alone amidst countless silent sighs.
Alas! Never sensed the touch of hope.
The garb of pretense and love
I have to shove,
But I am forbidden to let go.
Impossible to worship you
Uneasy the existence becomes
Dissonance and conflict
Still I wish to hold on.
Faith dying lifeless,
Discord in abundance.
Erased chronicles,
Maneuvering expectations.
Crack of dawn
I plead to live on,
Like a phoenix
I rise from my dead.
Now, I disregard my past
No inscriptions last,
I breathe, I survive
Without a sigh.
The art, the life
The quick disguise
An eyewitness to all
I am the master of the Ball.
Devoid of apprehensions
In the moments alive
My moans now unvoiced
Only a prolonged smile
Losing my religion
I Confess am blinded
For good, I need you no further
I am on my own….Alone……….
Divine Beauty
The photo taken - Dal lake...while seated in a shikara..
The scenic beauty is breth taking and cannot be captured..
Chilled water is unlike the warmth which resides in the hearts of Kashmiris....
Peace in progress
Heaven on Earth
The obtrusive rocks bear the brunt...but manage to slow down the brutal attacks of the massive flow of water......
Silence in turbulance
Picture says alot. Kashmir is similar to these turbulent waters....
A soundless picture just tells nothing about the reality.
A silence aftr the blast,a riot does not talk about the fear but peace...
We are decived tons of times....
Turbulance is bliss and silence can kill..
Speak up..reach out
Thursday, June 14, 2007
POWER OF DREAMS
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhujjvgcflFKJ7j2o-ZDo53ILebTDLpPsxcyM59CXFy3_HvEhTNnmwTQpDI3WGiM8pKQG2rMg9l-E6bhXdP0eDvNXkDiP2g0_HxCW7Lku4P7cKobywzkUhW0sZERc3_963LKcsxkn_Ka0Q/s400/the_cathedral_dreams_b.jpg)
Aristotle said "hope is a waking dream."
HOPE AND DREAM - An indelible part of our existence. Perhaps the only ingredients that keep a human life wanting to subsist and live.
A dream in reality is nothing but a wish, a ray of light any individual would look forward to. We usually do not remember the episodes of our dream. According to a recent research any recollection of a dream is nothing but a photographic memory- coming in a flash of a second. And sub-consciously every human is running after it. The great men know themselves and hence understand the importance of that flash and its imagery…Mortals like me do not.
Oprah Winfrey’s words “ I’ve come to believe that each of us has a personal calling that’s as unique as a fingerprint- and that the best way to succeed is to discover what you love and then find a way to offer it to others in the form of a service, working hard, and also allowing the energy of the universe to lead you.”
From our dream stems our aspirations, desires and objectives of life. Our dreams make us what we are HUMANS. A species of mammals which has progressed the most amongst all….
This my friend is the POWER OF DREAMS………………
So keep the battery of dreams all charged………
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
Feels like Heaven
Friday, June 8, 2007
Why am I Losing My Religion ?? I wonder why???
This is a song that I love...
Oh, life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight,
I'mLosing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you singI think
I thought I saw you try
Every whisper Of every waking hour
I'mChoosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I've said too muchI set it up
Consider thisConsider this
The hint of the centuryConsider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failedWhat if all these fantasies
Come flailing aroundNow I've said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
That was just a dream
But that was just a dream
Try, cry, why try?
That was just a dream
Just a dream, just a dream
Dream
Oh, life is bigger
It's bigger than you
And you are not me
The lengths that I will go to
The distance in your eyes
Oh no, I've said too much
I set it up
That's me in the corner
That's me in the spotlight,
I'mLosing my religion
Trying to keep up with you
And I don't know if I can do it
Oh no, I've said too much
I haven't said enough
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you singI think
I thought I saw you try
Every whisper Of every waking hour
I'mChoosing my confessions
Trying to keep an eye on you
Like a hurt lost and blinded fool, fool
Oh no, I've said too muchI set it up
Consider thisConsider this
The hint of the centuryConsider this
The slip that brought me
To my knees failedWhat if all these fantasies
Come flailing aroundNow I've said too much
I thought that I heard you laughing
I thought that I heard you sing
I think I thought I saw you try
But that was just a dream
That was just a dream
But that was just a dream
Try, cry, why try?
That was just a dream
Just a dream, just a dream
Dream
SHUCHI
My existence was bursting of ambiguity,
Vagueness shrouded my being.
Mysterious and unseen I was
Even when the sun beamed.
I desired neither deference nor disdain,
Bedazzled neither by glee nor by pain,
Yearned neither to be complex nor plain,
I aspired neither being accomplished nor maimed.
From my profound past,
Sagacity and wisdom now emanate.
Brimming with novel might,
I rove, I soar, I explore.
I know now, I was that star.
I was glimmering in the dark.
I am the gleam, I am the light.
Let my sheen shine bright.
Clasp, embrace and hold
I am the home of hope.
Vagueness shrouded my being.
Mysterious and unseen I was
Even when the sun beamed.
I desired neither deference nor disdain,
Bedazzled neither by glee nor by pain,
Yearned neither to be complex nor plain,
I aspired neither being accomplished nor maimed.
From my profound past,
Sagacity and wisdom now emanate.
Brimming with novel might,
I rove, I soar, I explore.
I know now, I was that star.
I was glimmering in the dark.
I am the gleam, I am the light.
Let my sheen shine bright.
Clasp, embrace and hold
I am the home of hope.
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