Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
This made me recall a similar incident in past. Quite in past.
When 5, even I was abandoned once. We were looking at the 'laughing joker', at Appu Ghar. I was amused by its dancing limbs. Out of habit, was trying to make a pattern of random movements. Once it was figured, I turned to look at my parents, in victory.
But they were none to be found.
It threw me in a mind-panic. My eyes were sole outlet to it. All of a sudden all movies and stories heard about abandoned children came flashing before my eyes. In that moment I started making a choice between being taken by gang of beggars or being a street urchin.
I preferred being a street urchin, as there was no fear of any limb being chopped off.
As I let go off the railing, my to-be life was shaping in mind. Could see my dirty and ragged clothes, but was not sure how or how-soon would my present clean dress reach that state.
Begging or cleaning cars was a respectable way to earn food and other basic necessities. Friends or company was not an issue, as I had seen plenty such people bonding on road-sides. Also, I was sure I would meet my family once I grow up. Was still in the process of weaving meet-the-parents story, when suddenly out of somewhere, mother appeared .
They were all smiling and trying-to-look cheerful to meet an expectedly desolate child. I smiled back with a slight disappointment.
Monday, May 23, 2011
A jolt which she always needed to wave-off her ever inducing sleep. The world was her cradle and 'the clutter' her lullaby.
If she could, she would be on a constant *Protector posture. But she had her duties to fulfill. So many expectations and hope-ridden eyes to be satiated.
She wanted all of them to smile!
Some with whom she lived and the other 'The Huge Glossy Portraits' on her Family Wall.
While the elder son of the family chose violin over the latex suit, now She had some promises to keep.
But why Violin?
She knew, even he had those mad traits which made him choose that ghastly and difficult instrument over any of the regular ones. But after he threw his 'charmed' purple latex-suit in the gas burner, it was beyond discussion. Everybody accepted the fate. Now we will have to bear his screeching practice sessions, ever-after.
Though she had 'that' spirit of adventure in her, and yet her demure dressing sense did not allow her to don those hugging family-suits. Her mother was The Diva. When she donned them half the mercenaries would be dumb-struck by her opulence. While her 'perfected' combat-skills would slay the remaining. She was her Hero!
And yet, even the thought of slipping in 'those' slimy suits made her shudder.
In some of those hidden books she read 'Where there is a Will, There is a Way'! One of her ancestors (quite earlier ones) also had 'this' as his attack blurb. Though now such statements were passe. They could only be tongue-twisteric. She still had some time to cast a blurb for herself.
So as she willed, she got a nice layering done onto the basic suit. Toned it down with her favorite 'White'. Though white is suicidal for people of her tribe. And yet it could be camouflaged with the black cape. Quite impressed with her design, she decided today was the day.
Mask was unavoidable. Even she did not wish to come across any of her acquaintance swooping down the floors. Then fudging it up with an explanation at the next meeting. So many fudges would fudge her already fudged up mind. It was always easy being honest.
So keeping it as it is, adorned the mask while she left her crinky mouth and nose partially visible. It would help don cruelty where desired!
Her navigator watch was all set. Not her, this was His Highness's. Her delicate platinum had a weak battery. Therefore that bulky strap was handed over to ward off all 'Iff' possibilities.
Inconvenient and yet Useful.
Had it been a normal day, she would have been downing her favorite quickie-twisters with lemonade. While Her Highness would keep peeking into the room every hour admonishing her to sleep....
She again shook herself. This time it was more mental than physical.
Now she could clearly see the dark. She could see all that she could not see. As she memorized all lessons, she knew there was no need to figure out things.
She just had to run and skip and jump. Swoop and glide, and in time she will know what lies where..
Suddenly she realized, why The Elder son chose 'the instrument' which probably he may never be able to learn.
There was no turning back. She was at the edge.
'You are a Hero! You are the Protector! You are the one they were waiting for!' - On a loop
As she took her first step..
to be contd..
Protector = Lord Vishnu
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
नदिया की एक धार बहा दें
Saturday, April 30, 2011
This is the day before the Trial of Antonia Vs Shylock was to begin. Shylock in his chamber was deep in thoughts. Neither of the vile accusations of his cruel-self were reflected on his calm visage. As he pondered in the dim-lights of the room, one of his page arrived. Not an ordinary page, he was the man Shylock respected, as would any Wise man respect a Man-of-honor.
Page knew, his master was at the brink of a remarkable chapter in the History of displaced Jews. He was about to get justice from the Ruler court, against one of the Highly-esteemed Citizens of Venice. This was not a mean feat. His master was not wrong, as the entire Citizenry believed. His, was a clear written-deal understood well by the Party and duly signed. The deal was broken and the bond had to be paid. And yet! Pound of Flesh of Antonio's heart was not something anybody could wish for.
Carefully as he approached his master, he wished to submerge in Shylock's thoughts and be a mute audience to the chaos within.
Contrary to what he exopected, Shylock looked calm and content. He knew even if the renowned Court of Justice imparted an impartial judgment, life will not be easy for Shylock thereafter.
Slight sway of kind ageing-eyes and Shylock saw his Man. He stood up to greet him. And to a mild surprise of the Page, covered him in a warm hug. It was an embrace of relief. Page sent a silent prayer to thank God. He could again be with his master when he needed him.
Shylock - 'Avaid, my brother my friend! Though the marts recognize you as a humble Merchant, for me you have always been a brother born to another mother. As dear is your counsel to me, so pleasing is your presence around. I have no idea why you still think you are my page, though it has been two Decades since you were released of your bondage. And yet I thank that thread which makes you still stick to me. More so now when the entire citizenry is all daggers against the brutish Shylock!'
Avaid - 'Master, you call me your brother and still 'think' this thread is what binds me. I am as much in awe of You as I am of your Noble eart. Not a single Merchant or Lord has ever released his Pages and ensured them social respect. Our entire community thinks of you as a Noble man with a Kind heart. And so do the locals, just they are too proud to admit it. This recent event is an opportunity for you to give back to the Christians, what we have been enduring since ages.
However mean it may sound, but even if you let go of Antonio they will still stamp it a victory of Them versus Us. Though I would like to hear what your sagely countenance suggests.'
Shylock - 'I suggest nothing. Neither have I chanced on something spectacular to prove 'Eternal Justice' at the Court tomorrow. I do not have a Say in dictating the Destiny. And yet I am clear on the role am about to play. I can see your bafflement Avaid. And I cannot explain it to you in clear terms. But let me tell you what ails me.
You are not wary to our fate as we displaced from our Holy Land to strife and struggle in foreign places. But tell me Avaid what is a Foreign Land?
Half of these locals were born someplace else. While most of ours grandfathers saw Venetian Sun from their mother's womb. They marry anywhere and pour-and-procure money from different kingdoms. While we lend our hard-earned money to the needy for the City Treasure. Yes, we do charge Interest, which these upright Christians so look-down-upon. But then we are the money-lenders. We are not church!
Can they trade without credit? And who lends money to those creditors?
Some of our brothers in their lands. We cycle their money and get paid for our money-lending decisions.
Do they trade for no-profit?
Why would they? What is the point of trading when there is no gain?
So how do they expect us to lend without interest? How would we run our lives, if we do not?
Farce! They know it all so well.
We are a peace-loving race. We know they were kind enough to let our forefathers take shelter here. Their laws gave us equal rights and let us trade without discrimination. That was the view of a Just Ruler, must have been somebody. We worked hard. Afterall money and wisdom is in our blood. We survived and toiled to reach where the best of Venetians, breathe.
We always keep a check on any flaring of our tempers. Marry within our own community. Give favors to anyone who asks, before they request.
And yet! they do not like our ways. They squirm at us and loathe inside. They ask for money from us and taunt our practices. They just hate us for we are not them.
Do ask! who or what is 'Them'? They cannot answer unless they twist it in a verse. Verses baffle me! Damn!
Antonio, the apostle of Christian grace! calls me a Cur(dog) in the mart, spits at me and comes to my door to lend money from me. He would not look at my face when he does so. He looks up at the farther-Heaven like a Greek God, while asking for alms from a lowly man.
And he asks without interest!
What does he ask, tell me? Without interest or guarantee does he not become a beggar? I tried to help him save his integrity and he says I am dishonest.
It pierced my heart with a warm dagger! And God forbid in my devilish-wit I asked him the Bond. I asked a pound of Flesh of his heart, as he had been hurting mine ever since. It is just a bond. And as I utter he dons the mask of a martyr!
And there I decided, after asking for my Lord's mercy, that if this Mask of a man fails the deal, I am sure to extract a Pound of Flesh of his noble Christian heart!'
Avaid - 'I have never seen you that agitated master. Though I believe Antonio is partial to our lot and specially you. But he has a kind heart and Name in the city. He has never harmed a soul. And yet sometimes such a Name, is expected to outshine other mortals around and he never spares such an opportunity.
He helps all and sundry and let it be known too. But then master, man has his follies. Judge the better ones and shun the evil. They who curse you, do not know your mercy and love for them. They are naive.'
Shylock - 'What you say is right, Avaid. But there is more to it. It is not me or you. We understand them as the physician knows the nerve and can manipulate them too. But what about our brothers? And generations to come. Would this keep on? Forever?
Now that we are here, we are not going back to our Holy Land ever. We belong here as much as they. We need to be accepted!
My daughter ran off with the christian boy. And they rejoice in my grief. Only because I am a Jew. Had I been one of them, they would have visited for condolence and shared grief. They laugh because they think we are low and not sharp.
I care for my people but I cannot do anything. Tomorrow when I go to Court, either I will win or lose. If I lose, they will jeer me and say my devilish intentions did not get paid. They will fine me. If I win, I can cut open Antonio's heart. And swear to God, I will! Or maybe I will not. My empathy will tell me then.
This Trial will make them aware that our vile-intentions can turn into actions. We can harm if wronged, course their own law. We will be a little more Them at the End of it.
Our people., whom I have abundant faith-in have immense humility, but this will restore faith in them. Faith! in the law of the land they live-in.'
Avaid - 'Master, I do not believe what I hear. It sounds like The Moses is come back.'
Shylock - 'No no Avaid, do not shame me with such a thought. I have love of my people in my mind when I say that, but also the memories of taunt and bad-tongue I had to bear. Jessica's elopement, showing no faith in his father made it pressing more. Now I have nothing to do; other than becoming a martyr, like my dear Antonio!'
Avaid - 'You jest, master!'
Shylock - 'Antonio? Yes. But in rest I am not fickle. I wish to become a villain to let them see Us as good or bad as Them. I have made-up my mind. And I am content. If I think of mercy, I will lose my determined-air in the Court. So mercy will come at the right hour, if it has to come.
Now I just pray to My Lord to make me carry all the filth we received, to show Them how Ugly it shews.
Avaid, I needed a listener in you to hear me, and for me to believe what I said.'
Avaid - 'I have been your listener. I do not have any words to express what I feel and I know they are not needed. Please tell me if there is anything else I can do to help you.'
Shylock - 'Just promise me! You will take care that our people would maintain the calm and humility we have-been-with since ages, irrespective of my fate.
Let them see what I tried to tell you. But if this flares them, make me a Devil. This is all what I want of thee.'
Avaid-'I promise master. I swear on my God.'
And they parted with an embrace of faith. Faith on each other, on their conduct thereon.
Note: It is a piece of fiction. Etched inside Merchant of Venice. These are solely my views on part-Play and part-Fictional characters. It does not intend to hurt any religious or community sentiments.
Friday, April 29, 2011
So as I feared my yesterday's post-12 post did not make any sense when I read it in the morning.
Not just the content and flow but also the title. It was completely irrelevant. But then title has always been my weakest link.
Whenever I write a stupendous piece (again, as per my perception), my imagination goes for a toss looking for the title. And mostly I end-up picking one of the most stressed-word from the content as the Head-word.
Though sometimes I do start with an impressive title, but then fail to stick to the subject in the content. Self-inspired-bad-writer's problems!
Surprisingly, when I again read it post-12 today, it made all the sense and more. The case of post-12 conscious!
Though let alone my country I do not even expect my society people to be reading this, still I want it to be atleast my own time-zone comprehendable.
ehh what did I hear friends? Who or what friends?
Friends are just meant to be visited on their blogs, read and commented.
but but but but...
But I feel so horrid today and needed a big push of almost an hour to get back here. Been reading some spectacular stuff around. And as I cherished their writings, I loathed my own. It has given me a HUGE complex.
By 9, I had one story ready to be posted today. Then I decided to take a detour, sort of warmup and THAT was my folly! The warm up induced such a self ill-will that I decided never never to write ever.
After much coaxing and cajoling decided to be here, to atleast pen down the reason for my pre-mature retirement.
And now that it has been penned-down already, am liking it. As in the process of penning the drunk thoughts onto viral rush of words. It makes sense. Atleast post-12.
So, if I actually want to asses my writing and my will to write I need to start onto the Holy business during sane hours.
Now the eyes would barely open, let me sum it up...
zzzz zzzzzz zz zzz
One more point, I wish to write in Hindi. But! but but but but...
Again that will be as fake as my English is. Because that is not entirely how I think or write in the language.
Though as I recall, I yesterday wrote the Spoken and Written language were different. So! Now its getting too complex for my own understanding. Tomorrow being an off, will try to re-read this and understand and think and decide... *thud*
zzzz zz zzzzzzz zzz
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Fourth time, when I was just mid-way scanning data of probable miscreants, it gave in. It was part-relief and part-disappointment. Disappointment because not everybody gets hacked, it is a sign of social (or any other ..el) popularity.
So as I digressed. The reason behind my failed attempts was 12'o'clock logging-in. This is not a regular phenomenon. Rarely I have written anything beyond 12. And if I have ever done so, it either must have been some creepy message or pieces even I wont EVER read again. Concluding, I am not much of a late night writer or typer (just invented - please remove the red bar).
Then why am I here at this unearthly hour?
This is because, since some time my chain of thoughts is getting multi-fangled, mangled and juxtaposed and writing it out seemed to be the best possible step towards clarity.
So, here I am writing at 20 minutes past 12, hence need benefit of grammar / logic / vocabulary / spelling / etc etc.. deviants.
I write in the hope that it will get better by day and more-so by night.
I love to believe that I was a good (rather a very good) writer during my hey-days(school!). Though it could be, that I was just better amongst the lot. While now, as I read my own writing, I find it lacking in flow, too pompous and inspired by various writers I have been reading but only in parts.
And all these incoherent parts, merge to form a complex flow of my multifarious mind. Producing a completely uninspiring and uninteresting piece of writing which is too much to muddle with.
I know, rather am quite sure, this wont get better any soon. This is because I write what I think and try to say. The way one talks and writes are little different, as various pauses in speech give clarity to the long sentence. While in writing there are no pauses or stressed-words. Therefore a long sentence loses all meaning and logic. Long sentences have always been my Achilles heel(even in school). Probably writing is my weak point and strength is logic and imagination.
And this led me to believe I write well.
Considering I do not have much to do nowadays, let me work on one of my perceived strengths to make it workable atleast. And maybe I can start enjoying my own write-ups. That would be some satisfaction :)
And as I digressed again, 12 '0' clock was mentioned to get a waiver on any (ok all) mistakes here. Or did I talk about that already ?
*scratching head* zz zzzz zzz zz....
Sunday, April 17, 2011
It is from one of the sub-stories mentioned in Mahabharat.
Amba(a princess) rejected by her affianced and Bhishma's step-brother, requests Bhishma to accept her as his wife. Bhishma who had sworn to remain a bachelor, rejects her request. She then goes to Parshuram who was Bhishma's teacher, to seek revenge from him on her behalf. Who then challenges Bhishma to a duel, to decide the fate of Amba.
This led to one of the most beautiful duel of the times between the mighty warriors.. as the story follows..
भीष्म परशुराम का
परशु और तलवार से खन-खन-खना बजता रहा
वायु जल सर्वत्र में जोहर नए करते रहे
परशु की टंकार से हर तरफ हाहाकार था
भीष्म की तलवार भी इन्द्र-वज्र समान थी
देव-यम-नक्षत्र सब आकाश से थे देखते
इस नृत्य समान युद्ध के तांडव-इया पेंतरे
रक्त-सागर नेत्र थे
अंगों में दौढे दामिनी
वायु डरे पीछे खड़ा
कौशल दिखाते महारथी
युद्ध-दो क्षत्रियों का
युद्ध-था सिद्धांत का
धर्म दोनों पुरुषो का
स्व-धर्म को रखना बचा
रात्रि प्रहार , युद्ध ऊर्जा से प्रज्जवलित
युद्ध-मद में चूर
क्षत्रियो में, परास्त करने का जुनून
हर खण पे तण
वार- चक्कर - वार फिर
वार तल, तलवार का
धरती-विहीन ही धावना
मन शुन्य था
तर्क - वितर्क विहीन था
हम क्युं भिढ़े
कैसे लढ़े, उस विषय से अन्भिज्ञ था
बाहू! मेरा ह्रदय है
तलवार! मेरी जीव-श्वास
जब तक ये-मेरे दास हैं
शत्रु! नहीं आएगा पास
परशु मेरा मित्र है
ये युद्ध-बंधु है मेरा
कर वार पे हर वार तू
बचने ना पाए धड़ वहां
थे घाव हर एक अंग पे
शस्त्र भी चीत्कारते
पर युद्ध-मद में चूर योद्धा
हर दिन-पहर थे गाजते
हर-पहर, दिन, बढ़ गए
इंधन यही था बस बचा
और फिर हुआ तेईसव़ा..
जब मन कहीं सुशुप्त सा
लेने लगा अंग-ढईया..
देवताओं के विघ्न से
युद्ध, पढ़ा फिर छोढ्ना
तर्क तो बलवान था
और भीष्म योद्धा महान था
पर युद्ध की उस अग्नि से
देह! अब-भी सुलग रहा
वो द्वन्द मेरा आखिरी
जिस फूँक से शुरू हुआ
युद्धाग्नि में जलते-जलते
तर्क ही विलुप्त हुआ
वो था-ना कोई धर्मं-युद्ध
ना-ही कोई रावण वहां
सूक्ति ना-थी उसमे कोई
ना ज्ञान उसका अंत था
जब हो खढे बाहू-बलि
कौशल तू देख द्वन्द का
जब वो लढ़े, जो ना रुके
धरती - गगन - वायु थमे
होते ना रावण - राम वो
वो भीष्म परशुराम हैं
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Friday, January 7, 2011
… aarghh... no.... please...
@#^%$^ bang! bang!
Will have to get up now. Would they understand if I told them I dont want to!
Alright enough! Get up! Enough of the weekend mood. These daily struggles make the bread worthy of its butter.
Swiped in time. Always! God you help me even with my almost zero motivation. It is a big thing! Very big!
Ohh! That cheese of a receptionist! Cant avoid her..
“Good Morning Kamal !” - where did she learn this fake sugary accent from..
“Good Morning Sarika! You look all set for the week!” - God! Why! Why!
“You are always so generous with compliments, but never say Yes for coffee” - as she makes that silly sad-angry face.
Guffaoww! - I just meant over-enthusiastic! Bimbo!
Will take the stairs today. Just cannot start my day with some more plastic.
It is clean. It is organized. It has my touch... the various cuttings.. and yet.. it is not inviting.
My office space!
Duh! Cannot have it all!
Why do I hate coming here day-after-day. Maybe coz I am not De or gay! Tee hee.. Bad one!
Worksheets are ready for the proposal. Good that I worked during the weekend itself, Monday mornings are really bad initiators. Well, for that matter any mornings!
Though they look good to me, not sure how Dinesh and Ravi would react. They always initially have reservations, but why? I am good, yaa.. they do keep telling me that.. but then why they dont accept my work in the first go?
Hate it! when they scan each word as if I passed my English classes by fluke!
What would they know! I was my English teacher's favourite.. Some life's achievements are beyond contention!
How I hate this outdoor activity! Now I regret not taking those Social-Interaction classes. I bet it could have raised my confidence a little. How wonderfully Vishakha transformed after her sessions. While in college she was such a puny sweet-head and now a complete outgoing and perky version of hers. Though it is a different matter altogether she ended up marrying her Course-Instructor! Am sure he makes her do three-activities before dinner.. after dinner.. before.. tee hee! Devil!
So, lock the screen - Check.
Pick up the cell - Check.
See if all guys are done with – Check
See if Ms Enthusiastic is not around – Check.
Goodness Gracious Me! Got The empty seat just here.
Corner seat.. Corner seat.. Lucky Day!
Hello Food! I am back. Let us start eating you. Slowly.. Gracefully.. Sorry Rice! my fingers cannot feel your lovely texture here, at night.. at home.. !
Unless I was friends with my food I would have called it bland. But no names calling amongst friends. Rule is a rule!
Today is indeed a lucky day! Marco Polo arrives only when am almost done. His travelogues are such a pain! Especially for an unlucky dog like me - two-years-no-vacations-survival!
Oh gosh! Meeting at 3. How it slipped?
Improvising is always a much more tedious task than initial production. Maybe because there is no end to improving. What! As if any amount of work would reduce their frowns to smiles!
How I hate facing them! Better train the new-joinees. At least they look in awe and do not question my pie-charts. They do ask difficult questions! But then it is easy to lambast them with a fantastic theory and then the whole-hearted applause!!
Will have to think seriously over this diversification! As if they will allow me! Duh! Me and my fantasies..
Ok! Ahoy to the conference Hall!
What was that! They liked it? They liked it.. is it? They liked it!! Yeah!
Oh my! What did I do special to get this today? Is this start to an era… ? Leave that melodrama!
But I am sure it was not just the proposal! Drama Drama! Leave it aside!
I know it was good but then it is always so. They loved it! And I loved their expression. I wanted to repeat the performance just for once. But what is achieved in the first go is hard to repeat. It may not be noticeable to them but surely my life has become a little more worthwhile!
As I survey around, I find this office a little more mine! Monarch!
And would the monarch celebrate his victory? Why not?
“Hey Mani! Come here chappy.“
“Yes Kamal” – ever-eager company event guy.
“Would you do me a favour please?”
“Do command!” – dramatic buffoon.
“Can you get those White Chocolate pastries for the entire BI team? “
“Your wish is my command, Sire!” – as the genie vanished
It is sure lonely at the Top except for such life’s mercies!
Perks of being the CEO! (smug!)