Subdued by Expectations!!!

 Smitten by highs and lows 

Of social currents so grossly kept 

On mind's plain very narrowly made 

Haunted by whispers for normalcy's sake 

You forever vouch for a hidden safe 

That knows none but 'all' ultimate 

Lost forever in a countless spate of designated fate 

Who are you entangled in that maze 

Devoid are you of all God's direct 

Forlorn in quest of none perfect

Prelude to the poem:

 It was December 2009, a month had gone by after I first landed in Delhi. This was the second time I was planning for a permanent stay in Delhi. I was lonely, lost in the wilderness of Hudson Lane, Single Storey.The very places where i used to enjoy during my college days, had started haunting me. I hardly found any mates of my past adventures, nor did i enjoy the sorroundings I once relished. I did not have any inkling of being an unwelcomed guest after three long years. With everything conspiring against me, i was confused and cursed my fate. My whole day was lost in longing for Bangalore, the warmth and solace that i got during trying times of job- hunting, during recession. Delhi looked like a distant shore, devoid of friends, excitement and merriment.I had nothing but to pray for winds of change so as to make Delhi look normal again.













Where is that wind ?


I long for the wind which once blew over this plain
Coming from a forest drenched in melody of solitude
Carrying in its womb harmony of chirping birds, free-flowing streams
I felt all when it flirted through the city's geography

When the breeze kissed humans, romance oozed out of sorroundings
The beauty it was in manoeuvring through trees, lamp-posts, our loose clothings
Godly it was in dressing the naked land with leaves
o' nature's sweet child, where art thou hidden, the place looks forbidding
The imposter wind does impose occasional flings though not sensuous

I came here for thee, here I am wandering lonely through streets
So dull and devoid the roads looks without your shade
Engulfed in piles of dust, the city looks blurred and unreal
Here I breathe like an alien on a distant planet many light years away
I tumble like an idiot, dance awkwardly to silent tunes of past
Since November, I have been a clown among masses, unaccoustomed of your warmth
My soul is jammed in thoughts of embracing you
O' soothing wind, I sigh for thy return, to wipe some dirt from here

Its not Rahul Vs Modi!

We, the people of India tend to do hero-worship out of individuals of even dwindling credentials. This happens to be a national hobby churning fanatics, who often forget to demarcate reality with whims and fancies. Various sects are the off-springs of these fan-following and mass-hysteria, each waging a war on the other at the vulnerability of their ‘icons’. The imaginative bounds of the followers have raced past oblivion, shrugging off the contradictions encompassing their day to day life. 

Who is to be blamed when the debate is of colossal nature and the protagonists are none other than Narendra Modi and Rahul Gandhi. The former being the buzz word in our current political landscape, dwarfing his very own party- the BJP, which seems crawling like a toddler, with Papa Modi  as the only bet to bail it out of its ‘blues ‘and teach how to walk again on two legs . The other ‘guy’, hey wait, mate he has got a name, a family heritage, the surname to die for and swarms of bootlickers- ever ready to lick his spit from the very go. He is Rahul Gandhi- to most a novice, to some a youth mobilizer (though his stint in Punjab and UP hardly justifies it) and to a very few a potential architect of modern India.

There is an uncanny similarity between Rahul and Modi, as both are yet to show their true colour and grit pre-requisite to govern a country as wide and diverse as India. Forget about languages, here the dialects change within a span of kilometers. The four directions have a resemblance if not anywhere but in India. The culture, the socio- economic fabric of the region is such that it’s going to be a herculean task in washing off the stains, especially for those deeply rooted on their chairs in Delhi and Ahmedabad.The country’s flora  and fauna though distinct but enough to sustain the part devoid of it. Question is who will do the balancing act?  The biz world has for long been an oppressive tyrant, looting, plundering and dividing India- the ‘rich India’ and the ‘poor India’. The pathetic politicians- are they wary of their shameless, disgusting stature?  Don’t they only know how to tame, mould and drive the poor India for their own perks, commissions? 

Sorry, I just got deviated from the debate, but believe me my blood boils and there is an outpouring of emotions whenever I embark on a voyage of such nature, where humans are but carcasses of political and economic gains. According to many, Modi has a proven track –record of good governance and socio-economic infrastructural development of Gujarat for more than a decade. A vast majority of Gujarat’s population acknowledges this fact, they have further lauded various developmental schemes concerning all the sectors of state’s economy initiated during Modi regimen. The minorities, mostly Muslims have slowly started getting in tune with Modi’s Gujarat vision, are willing to tread towards his shade. Point taken, but somehow my doubt persists. Gujarat for long, has been one of the most economically advanced state of the country, it only requires a bit of skill and expertise in sharpening a already glittering sword. However, a majority of the country’s 1.3 billion population have put their stake on an individual who is yet to come to terms with the distinct trials and tribulations running through the length and breadth of India. Sounds a hasty decision, are the people left with any choices? Rahul may be!  

Just like chanced intruder, the name pops in. Rahul Gandhi. The sole messiah of a derailed party, coughing agonies compounded with ailments of corruption, rising inflation, inflated crime against women, alacrity of law and order situations and the plethora of other socio-economic problems. ‘Yuvraj’ has failed miserably in Punjab and UP- two states where he put all his sweat, blood even the PM post at bay. Look what he got; a handsome mauling elsewhere, worst part was the defeat at the hands of an unseasoned politician in Akhilesh Yadav, basking in the glory of his father-  "The Netaji". He hardly speaks in front of the media, though his address at CII can be adjudged a mere ripple in the ocean. Modi scores over him on most of the national and international issues? So is he more able than Rahul?

Unsatisfied! I think we need to stress upon the fact whether Rahul or Modi, are they competent and willing enough to oar us to a new shore of socio- economic uniformity? Or are the seats reserved for the privileged class? What if the boarding passes will be handed over to only those with political and economic clout?   We can go on and on towards interrogative madness. Seems we have ceased to look upon our plight germinating from the seeds of poverty, unemployment, illiteracy, dismal health infrastructure, food insecurities etc. 

Hope and optimism govern human brain, sometime taking it to a point of abject surrender to a person/object that has the tenacity to shine upon their ‘deprivations’.  We breeze through through a path solely fuelled by our ‘hope and liking’. Is it the way forward? Or do we need the guidance of our logical compass for a proclaimed destination. I think we definitely need to switch it on. Stop fretting about the new PM to be! Only the one with the gut and assumption to align with the 1.3 billion Indian psyches crying foul of the fallen system, will have a rightful claim.

This is a challenge of greater magnitude; no one can take solace by virtue of being the media’s darling (in Modi’s case) and family heritage (definitely Rahul).  Rather our focus area should fix towards the candidates (kindly include Modi and Rahul too) who has a vision for the whole of India, in which there should not be any room for territorial and cultural differentiation, the leader who will spread growth and development through his innovative thoughts and schemes.

Stop creating hype, chanting superficial praises. It’s time to focus on remedial measures required for a brighter future. No one has dared to walk under the sun so far, come on, show some spine. Only then we will decide which side are we really on?                                                                                                                                       

CHAINED SHE

Flirtatious stream diving from rocky cliffs,

Sways leaves aside, mesmerizes idle sand banks,

Meandering into valley, she sprinkles charm on lonely rocks,

Cuddling through habitats, folds into a vast reservoir- the ocean.

Dissolved is her self and her heart is taken,           
Static in tides, she sighs for her lost limbs,

Twisted and curled, she submits to fate,

For nothing but heaps of premonition to date              

Neither will she kiss the leaves again,

Nor will she fall for the shining rocks

With no form, assumptions, she will be an ocean dot!!

The above phrases highlight the plight of so many poor innocent girls, who are crushed under the ruthless male dominated society. The “stream” of girls are wary of their diminutive self under the surveillance of the colossal “oceanic” male demeanor. Before ten, she is devoid of nutrition, so fragile to even match shoulders with boys of her age. After ten, she garners her parent’s attention, which hardly ceases to be ‘heart-rendering’ gesture. She interrogates herself with questions? For how did it happen? Why did she soil her own cloth? Menstruation: long confirmed to be by far the greatest evil grippling the female lot. For sure, as it shuts the door of economic prosperity, for she will never hear the school bell ringing again!

She is married early, to the so called “crusader of her destiny” who very often leaves her in lurch. The husbands treat them as a punching bag, venting all anger, frustration on them. Tell me, will she rise from here again? With problems in plenty, ranging from the lack of education/ skillful training, acute poverty, prevailing social stigmas, will she be able to breathe fresh air again?

Or will she be left crawling on a well architected path of slavery, carefully designed by her husband???

Dream & Reality

Dwelling on a dreamy plain, one never ceases to miss the glimpses of an extravaganza. The fusion of cosmic elements surges with faith born out of clouds of thought. Reality laughs at this spectacle. Dream is bound to be burdened with heavy thought clouds with pain raining through eyes. It piles up agonies on self when encountered with reality. Was it really meant compounding one with sorrow, grim hopes? Well the dreamers fox wicked ways of reality to their own kingdom, where the latter’s compelled to stand up to its command. Never a sunny day for those who demarcate the two aspects, while merriment in bounty for those who view both dream and reality as one.

  Dream and reality – separate phenomenons ,still very much in common. Each creates ,nurtures and consolidates the other. Those fellas who creep on thorns laid by reality aspire to dream. A dream that shines upon cold, shivering bodies as a source of warmth. To back this with a story will be an interesting idea. Ages ago, a farmer cultivated single crop, for him a single season was there to sweat on the field. One night when he closed his eyes he found his waist covered in mud in a season considered awkward for sowing seeds. He ploughed through the field, curiously watching the earthworm’s motion. He was amazed to see a small creeping creature engrossed in the same activity again and again. The creature repeatedly got into the mud and emerged covered with more mud than previous occasion. The farmer desired to ape the creature. At that time he breathed his dream and contemplated multiple harvesting. The dream assigned him of an arduous task to stock his godown to hilt throughout the year that even air will be devoid of a space to fit in.

  That farmer’s dream revolutionized multiple cropping, which after being imbibed by many since ages has lost figments of a dream. People have bracketed his discovery as a simple cat and mouse game which anybody can dominate. Wake up to your senses and not just nullify the farmer’s stupendous dream. It’s just that thousands of years have graced it with an attire of reality.

   The story helps us to unravel those mysteries suffusing human lot in their own backyard. Their practical approach is all but synergy to a dream dreamt by someone long ago. It’s tough to break loose from the shackles of their own web. This web contains amalgamation of minds so determined and selfish enough in judgment of a gamble played by dreamers. As results get afloat winners are adorned with golden bracelets while the loser condemned to corner. The gutsy loser has stones hurled at him but he overwhelms it with utter disdain. He is ready to taste the nectar again in that dreamy meadow to bounce back to transform his reality.

  The triumphant- who realize his dream, has strings of followers making no lapses in reducing it to reality. That’s the way human nature works. It brings down all above it to its own ground zero level. The victor roams in quest for limitless glory with hoards of crawling lot behind. While the dreamer sprints on his path the crawlers bleed behind them. For can the latter complain? By being deaf, dumb and blind to dreams. It’s foolish to credit this failing lot as crusaders of reality- as reality is born out of dreams and not manipulated followings.

Media Buzz during 2009 elections

Shiva please dance again

Sounds weird though it makes sense out of aimless foot tappings of our democratic framework.  Media succeeds in making extraordinary out of nothing. Phrases like” dance of democracy” has been coined keeping in view of Trp ratings and added mollahs to be raked in from advertising. Every institution seems to be alarmed with a purpose to multiply their presence. Every action is but extension of a long cherished desire to strengthen financial muscles that can be flexed in future. Suddenly these agencies have created envy in eyes of those teens yet to hit eighteen. This innocent lot are cursing god for ruining their prospects of casting ballot to what appears to be “election of all elections”.

  These Jago re campaigns which roped in a cinematic stalwart like Aamir Khan with an aim of doing nothing but to take you to polling booths and let democracy take its own course. A farmer flooded with difficulties can’t find it all evaporated by the virtue of a website appeal. Meanwhile relaxed soul like us rewards these internet sites with multiple clicks and a staggering profit. Since Stone Age no business is undertaken if by any chance loss looms over it. Broadcasting from an air-conditioned room is what any Tom, Dick and Harry can do. Yeah there are handfuls of those reporters who have a firsthand field experience, but don’t they deliberately do it as source of subsistence and an elusive opportunity to be on national television.

  Media is nothing but a politician’s wardrobe. Options available in print and electronic media are many suits through which they present themselves to people. I bow down to this sublime power of audio-visual medium which thrusts needy lot for a choice. A choice incapable of adding colors to their life but definitely the one creating futile bubbles in their neurons. These bubbles have busted sooner than expected. 1952 was a time when the game originated and has gained in momentum every five years. Below poverty line population has spread swifter than any contagious disease. Issues like food, shelter, clothing, electricity, unemployment have been substituted with political gimmicks. Media played its role in handing maximum exposure to politician’s vulgar games.

It’s a friendship that’s need driven.   It’s well known fact that Shiva destroyed the universe and Brahma created it afterwards. I wish he does same for our democracy and enlighten it and the mediums promoting it. Only then will be justice done to the process known as universal adult franchise.

2008, During Recession

Is a hello possible?

Jobs, jobs, jobs, when are they coming out of hibernation – like a swollen frog amassing flabs owing to tireless eating and sleeping regimen. It has intrigued me with no answer. Successive visits to interview parlors have made it even more complex. These parlors are head and shoulders above the so called beauty parlors, for the former is scarcely located and only a handful comes out with a successful “cut”. More agonies bless those who can’t exchange greetings with public sector.

  Random marches under the sun with a file of achievements to knock at the doors deliberately closed, always turn futile. Sweaty palms rewards this excursion with a threat to erode its possession – academic fulfillments over two decades. Stained shirts of job aspirants enthused the FMCG giants to go ahead with volume productions of a new product in soaps and detergents category – ‘cuffs and collars’.

  It boils down to the age-old cherished goal to be a jewel in the crown of public sector. It has finally got its due. Now it’s in with a chance to show its prowess in snubbing those who passed through it without a care. The bait is well orchestral. First it creates an air of invitation through numerous vacancies. The maximum impact of the game is felt at the application counter when the modified eligibility criteria darts through our unadorned chest. Fallen flat and out, we are but a Pomeranian rejected by its keeper and a cold stray dog community waiting to tear it apart.

  Outright rejection even without a customary hello is to our utter dismay. Governmental jobs are like a Rolls Royce whose window shopping requires gut out of an individual of dwindling credentials. They play hide and seek with the proud sales staff in embarrassment of their diminutive figure. Swarms of job seekers tread endlessly on a path demarcating public and private jobs. It’s just that he can’t say hello to any side. Seems that this global meltdown has to once again freeze to a snowy mountain of economic prosperity where everyone will have some role to fit in. until then keep looking at the government of India symbol with astonishment.