Moonlight that had kept me awake

There was darkness all around
The night had eclipsed the sun,
The night, all dark crept slowly to break hearts
The hearts thumped slowly in anxiety and anguish,
the terrors of darkness being manifold

I saw the battle happen, the mighty battle of the sun
All wishes were with him to shine again
To fill the planet with its brilliance, the world with serenity
The serenity that would have brought the world to a glorius future,
all bright, all happy

In darkenss the other night when I lay
A stream of cool moonlight fell on my face,
making my face bright with hope,
raising the sensetations sweet
making me aware of the presence,
the presence that proclaims victory,
The victory of the sun over darkness, of yang over ying
of may be good over evil.
I slept under the moon
with an enligtened smile on my lips
Dreaming of the setting sun and its rising reflection
and the shining dewey blades of the green green grass.

The day Rajiv Gandhi died:

The americans say that everyone in the country remembers the moment when they heard that JFK was assasinated. True I thought, We Indians have the same feeing about the day Mahatma gandhi died or the moment we heard of the brutal murder of Rajiv. Love him or hate him, the brutal murder evoked sympathy for the soul lost.

It happend some 15 years ago, and I was not even 10 but the day is etched in my memory. I was standing on the rooftop playing cricket with my friends when some friend told me that rajiv gandhi was dead and was killed by a bomb blast. I just looked at him and we started playing again. After a few hours I went home and told my mom about the brutal murder. She looked distressed and with moist eyes said, "oh Rajiv gandhi died, What a handsome man he was". I just looked on, I didnt realize what was more distressing, the ex prime minister's death or the handsome man's face blodied.

I still am not able to forget that day.

A flower's odyssey

A solitary flower stood at the corner of a vast garden
enjoying her beauty under the heat of the morning sun
Dressed brightly, the flower laughed
A little proud, A little vain
laughing in her innocent pride.
She smiled at the playing children
She winked at the cooing lovers
and painted her life with all the hope
An optimistic picture of what only time would reveal.
Slowly she blossomed, radiating her beauty
Her fragnance filled the world
She stirred with every touch,
the soft touch of the passing wind
The warm touch of an innocent child
The firm but nurturing touch of the gardner
And she waited for her fate, Matured as she waited.

She attracted everyone who saw her
Ants and insects, bees and man
The bees swarmed around her
Drinking her nectar, licking her sweetness
Draining her beauty, making her hollow.
A light breeze now took the flower away
She fell on the hard ground with a life all spent
The petals were covered with dewey the tears
As she faced a different world all bleak , all white

A warm touch made her fly away from the hell
to a temple resonanting the sweet sound of faith
And she reached the divinity's head
Hundreds fell at her feet, thousands admired her
as she pleaded for time to stay

The next day she was dumped
All spent, All forgotten, she faded away

The stalking fear:

The road lay in front of me
The road winding up ahead rising to kiss the foot of a stranger
The road, red with the blood of a dirty labourer or blushing at the newly weds who walked on to their dreams.
A silent observer dwelling firm on the ground and looking with envy at the floating clouds above.
There suddenly was a bang.
A few clatters, a terrifying cry and then silence.
The silence that echoed in every heart.
The silence that silenced the resonating hopes of a young widow, waiting for her love in a red attire,
With hands full of bangles, a gleaming vermillion and eyes sparkling with love, with hopes, with dreams.
The dreams broke in an instant,
The heart was trodded on in an instant
The flower lay plucked in an instant.
The bangles lay broken, The vermillion was wiped
And the colorful red was replaced with white
And the silence was broken, broken with dread, with grief, with more silence.
The dread is still there in our heart
The heart still blooms with fear
The fear that is death, the gloomy inevitable death
The goal has long been set
The path has long been made
And we have long been marching.
But all along we dread to die
But all along we dream to live
But all along we dare to dream.

One moment more :

The pain of death's farewell grows dim,
The pain of life's farewell stays new.
Since you were exiled to jiangnan
- plague land - i've had no news of you.

Proving how much you're in my thoughts,
Old friend, you've come into my dreams,
I thought you still were in the law's
Tight net - but you've grown wings, it seems.
-Vikram seth,Three Chinese poets

Movies are my panacea I think or may be it's mania is the diesease that I suffer from. Watching some movie or the other and thinking about it is the only activity that I enjoy, I think. A few days before, at arnd 1 in the Night I started watching Mili, not that I hadnt seen it before , but I enjoy watching it. Its a movie which instills hope(Something I dont belive in), a movie which though in the same lines as of Anand is so brilliantly different with its adaptation. Amitabh with his controlled potrayal of the debauched and hurt son and Jaya with her ebulliant self were both brilliant. I simply adored the movie when I saw it for the first time and still adore it everytime I watch it.

Most parts of the movie moved me, but I keep on thinking about one thing as in Why did Amitabh have to propose and marry Jaya when he knew that she was terminally ill. What did that union procure, a month or two togather, the slow but painful acceptance that you are slowly loosing the person you love to death, some more memories to struggle with. I kept on thinking about why do people try to continue with a relationship when there is no future to it, when all that can come out of it is hurt, pain and nothing but memories which may keep on haunting one for like ever.

I was talking to a friend when he started talking about death and how we all wish to prolong the moment of the final passing. So true I thought, A person is not dead till he is dead and if he is not dead, he is alive, so it is not stupid when one keeps on wishing for the dead person to hold onto his life. What about a relationship then, isnt a relation also like life, then why not try to hold on to the relation just a moment more before letting go, just trying to hold on to the person before the relation lies broken never to be mended.

Some say it is better for the parting to be blunt, a moment and everything gone but I cannot but disagree. Death or Separation, sudden or lingering cannot bring anything but some morose despair, a terrible shock and another life defunct. The difference being, only in separation, the body breathes. If it is lingering atleast you can prepare for the destined, atleast you can have some more moments togather, atleast you have some more experiences, some more life,some more joy, some more memories. As days pass, the inevitable may happen, some candles may be stubbed out, some ships just hanging around may leave for their destination, I may remain standing alone but atleast I would have a moment more.

One more moment and all that it is.

The cat and its prey

(The following was written long back when I had to write the competitive exams like the IITs, The time is ripe now to reproduce it as a blog)

The scene was a lush green jungle with wilderness so deep that the animals had troubles moving around. Among those thick greenery there was a clearing with an old tree at the center and hundreds of animals just lying around in the shade. There was a bird up in the tree so happy with itself that it was singing in glee and doing a tap dance of sort. The animals lazing around didn’t know where the bird came from and why it was gallivanting around. A cat, which was sleeping under the daffodils half opened the eyes and looked up at the colorful bird doing its rain dance.

The cat now was awake from his slumber and he kept on looking up thinking of ways to make a dinner out of the bird, the sweet little voice, the enchanting cabaret the graceful poise didn’t matter all that it mattered was the bird and the dinner it would make. The bird was oblivious of all that was going on, very much like the diva who remain ignorant abt the millions who lust for her. She was just doing what her heart wanted to, sing for the much awaited rains, sing for the much welcomed spring or maybe sing just for some other bird to make notice. Our cat though was now looking at the bird in deep appreciation.

He looked around and saw now many of his fellow animals had half awakened from their slumber. They too had started looking up and were looking at the bird with hungry eyes. He could see the same thought going around in every animals mind, he could feel the twitch across their lips, see those whiskered lips salivating in hungry anticipation. He again looked up at the bird, the bird was still doing her rain dance and he became motivated to go for her, come what may.

His sleepy eyes half asleep could now see everyone geared up for the fight for the goal. In his minds eye he could see the battle happen before it happened. He could see the cats fighting with each other, the claws open, the nails out as if to strike anyone out cold who comes near their vicinity. He could see the cats over each other tearing each other apart, some had lost an eye some had blood all over the face, the tranquil eyes had been replaced by an angry grimace. He shuddered on seeing the battle, he cried at the unthinking war. The bloody skin with the torn eyes, the massacre of his friends and the like was a sight he couldn’t behold.

He leapt back; saw all the other cats still eyeing the illusive dancing bird. But our cat had the vision. He walked away slowly from the crowd with a knowing smile smacked across his lips. The bird was still dancing looking lovely, but our cat now knew the truth. He had the vision from the hill and the Promised Land was no longer enchanting, not at the price it came.

A dog's day out

It was july 3rd, considered to be the hottest day in the northen Hemisphere, a day marked by the ascendant of sirius in the sky, a day called by most as dog's day and a day which incidentally is day of my birth too.

I was sipping cold cofee that day in the first floor table of the cafe, the coffee was bitter and the musings of the person in front of me was no better. I was looking in her eyes but my mind was shouting mercy, I tried to look intrested but dont know if i managed it right. I was looking around for more interesting faces when I looked at a dirty old dog on the streets. The dog was not even worth a glance and i just looked through it and returned back to hear the uninspiring talks. The lady in front of me was blabbering around and all I was thinking, was a means to escape. God must have heard me for the lady execused herself and I had a moment respite. I looked back at the road and there was the dog still standing where it was with a puzzled look as it looked ahead at the tar road.

The dog's look was interesting. If I can quantize emotions then possibly I will give it as 30% irritation,20% puzzled, 30% anger, 10% hurt and 10% resignation. Just kidding, In a single word the dog was absolutely world-wearied. It tried to move forward when suddenly a motor cylcle with a macho guy and coy girl zipped through. Poor dog didnt know that they had more important work and they were getting late, the dog was just happy may be that he was not run over. He was back at the same place. Now he looked to his left from where the motor cycle had crossed, (he may have thought of it as the dog remover, but sadly I dont understand a dog's language), he found that it was empty. He gave a winning smile, with the dirty gums visible and I responded with a burp. Now he steadily moved forward.

In the middle of the road he realized that now there was a big car coming from the right, he may have been dead but for the heavy honking and he just froze where he was. The car stopped with a creeking break and the driver gave a mean look and a loud curse cursing the dog, its dead mother, her father and also the father's sister.This done the car left and our dog was hurt but still looking ahead.

Freud should have been there to analyze the dog's determination but on 2nd thoughts he would have also commented on my being interested in the dog crossing the road. The lady had still not come but the waiter had and he was asking if I needed something else I just gave him an order for something which was the cheapest and continued with my dog watch. The dog hadnt made any more progress but its look had changed. It was no more disgusted, no more hurt it was just plain determined. I kept on looking at him pining for him to cross the road and there it was looking forward to run his last lap.

The road had become pretty empty with sporadic movements of the odd cycle and rare bikes. The dog gave a look towards the left, turned its head towards the right , made a computation of the time it needed to cross and then dashed ahead. It kept on running as if there was no tommorow and crossed the road in less than 3 seconds. It must have been a record of sorts but there was no one to take notice save me. It was now at the other side, I was smiling and so was the dog. It looked back and saw the mighty road, the great obstacle that he had tackled. He was just enjoying his moment standing below the unfinished building which some say is another shopping complex in making.

The dog just stood there with the content smile and the twinkling eyes. He was in a world of his won enjoying his victory, the world passing along his wide eyes. The gum was still visible, the eyes had a drop of tear or two. he didnt hear the continued traffic, he didnt hear the people shouting, he didnt hear the rock falling. There was no sound, none at all, just the thud of the rock, the silent whimper of the dog and the swish of the life passing around. The workers were angry because now they had a dead dog on the stone. They lifted the stone removed the dog and threw the body in the dustbin on the other side of the road. The dog was back to the place where he had started from, but it was unaware. He remained blissfully unaware that his dash had been a failure. He remained on the top of the garbage pile waiting for the corporation workers' garbage trolly.

Meanwhile, my lady had come back, the idle chatter had resumed and I stayed pretending to listen.

Going gaga over DDLJ

Shahukh "The King" Khan took his dulhaniya from the clutches of the strict and heartless patriarch and proved to the world that love can win over any obstacle in the world. That was 10 years ago, and still i hear millions crooning about the same shahrukh hamming "Simran meri hai" with thousands of young girls sighing, clutching their hearts and waiting for the right guy to show them the dream land. I may sound awestruck by the phenomenon that was DDLJ, but truthfully speaking I am not. I accept, it was a beutifully made movie which had everything to cater to indian taste, Rib tickling comedy, romance in a distant land(far away from the watchful parents), typical punjabi wedding with all pretentious paraphernalia attached, traditions that were upheld, lots of "India being the greatest" stuff, huge amount of rona dhona to appeal to the ladies of the house and lastly the "happy ending", which some one told me is the sole criteria of judging a story or movie.

So now I am facing a basic question, why do we watch movies? What is the one thing that people come to watch movies for? The answer I think, which atleast holds good for 90% Indians is that they want to escape reality. I dont blame them, if for 3 hours, one can be free from the hassles that life burdens us with, then it is worth the 100 bucks we fork out for it. But this escapism comes with a price, the price being the alienation from reality, the price being the dreaming about a ideal present which is non existant, the price being trying to the see the world in black and white when it is always colored with shades of gray.

I am not a humanity hater, always trying to look at the world with black glasses, I am just a one eyed man in the country of the blind and like Nunez, in H.G.Well's story,I am not able to convince the world to look at the misery half the humanity lies in. I know it is pessimistic in just looking at the night and not hoping for the sun to come up, but when you are in scandanavia, isn't it better to prepare for the night than in wating for the sun to shine.

Coming back to movies, I get repelled by those which have nothing to offer but plain senseless chattering and emotions thrown around here and there. I cringe when i hear the king khan croon for Anjali in K2H2 for wasnt he the same guy who was madly in love with his wife a few sceens back.I dont understand the thousands eyes simmering with tears when shahrukh keeps on yapping about how we should we love and respect our parents and i cringe yet again.Why do we like such melodramatic scenes, why do we have to reassure ourselves, our next door neighbours and the whole city and the country to that matter that we are good traditional guys who may drink beer but will never molest any "desi chori in a videshi land", why do we have to keep on shouting that it is all about loving your loved ones, why , why??? No answer.

Now let us compare with movies like hazaron khwaishien aisi, now that movie had a heart, it was about dreams dreamt but not realised, it was about a nation's anguish for the dream that got sour, it is about those thousands hopes that got struck down, it was about one man's rise with his fall and another man's fall with his rise.Movies like this i know paint a picture which is so bleak that u keep on asking is there a way out, it is so dreadfully true that u shiver to think of the same happening to you, but isnt it better to know the ghost of death than always keep dreading the unknown .At this point i may mention matrubhumi which described female infanticide and the inhuman potryal to girls so accurately that i had goosebumps and nightmare. I remember serials like bhanwar which were so closer to the truth that u shiver with the very thought of those kind of people even existing.

But personally i prefer to be scared by the truth than be waiting for the unknown. I dont want to stay in the false hopes that everyone stays happy, only should be careful of the staircase and the villianous aunty(who can no doubt be silenced by mamaji's thaapad). I dont want to wait in the hopes that the father of the girl I love will allow her to elope with me because I am "Saccha in the heart", I dont want to wait in the false hopes that even if Rani dies i can always get kajol my best buddy because my mother, my daughter and allah all three want that.I wanted to tell my friend that life doesnt always have an happy ending, it is not always that kajol marries a widower, it is not always that a father will allow her daughter to elope, it is not always that tuffy gets the bhagwaan's bardaan of delivering letters to the wrong person. How I wish life was like all these feel good movies , how I wish karan johar, Aditya chopra and sooraj barjatya were gods who wrote the script of desyiny, so that the world would have been a big rich family with mighty baarats and tuffy as cupids. How I wish??

Color Me Saffron

Life is so pleasantly strange, it surprises you every moment, it makes u fall in love with it by giving the boring life so many twists and tangles that untangling yourself is fun and mystery enough.I dont know whats wrong with me that i get so much affected by movies and make me reflect and interospect on these. But I think am any director's dream audiance, who sees the movie once in a theater and then thousand times in his head and then picks up either the pen or the computer to type in what he thinks. Today was another of this rare days and to give a understatement, am affected by what I saw in "Rang de Basanti", a tale of ubiquitos confused youth finally responding to the call of their heart.

The movie made me reflect, how close we are to the characters so ably potrayed, like DJ we dread to face the world and go along following the crowd just living our mundane existance.How much we are like karan, always trying to escape the difficulties, cribbing about everything but not taking any actions to fix it right.How similar are we to aslam, questioning the various ties that are binding us, ties like religion, caste and language.How similar are we to the character atul kulkarni plays, going along with the system, but with ideals and the zeal to make the country a better place. May be we are not simply similar to them may be we are just a amalgation of all these characters.Maybe we are all of them togather, a man with five faces, a man with five people hidden within him, may be it is not Sue who is in search of her revolutionaries, it is us who are searching for ourself. Maybe the movie is all about one persons search for his existance, one person trying to find out what he stands for, maybe it is about one person discovering himself again and again and again.

I cannot point at a portion of the movie which i can identify as things I like. Maybe I liked the movie because I could identify with the cahracters of the movie. I remember the thousand midnight discussions we had in the hostel about what we can do for the country, why we cannot chane the system to make the India that we all can be proud of, why cannot we make a India that our founders had dreamt of, why cannot we make a India that people like azad, Bhagat singh, bismil, ahfaquallah khan and rajguru died for. The thought of a corrupt India make me cringe with shame, it seems sometimes that we are bathing with the tears of these individuals who shed their blood dreaming of eden, an oasis of life but what got created a dark deasert with lizards and venomous snakes with cactii all round which oozed blood when cut upon.

Now i come to a point where I keep on asking, will our life course take the path of the movie too. Will we too come out of our slumber when we are raised from our stupor by something drastic may be a death which needs us to sit back and then try to fix things right. The movie is so correct, we may keep on talking about a revlution but unless we stand up, the words will never be on the canvas. I think it is high time we stand up, take on the establisment and the first step would be to stop being corrupt ourself. Maybe the first thing an individual can do is take a pledge to be honest and not corrupt, maybe a single honest person can turn up the world a better place to live in. Big words, but again I am an Indian, and as vivekananda had once said we Indians as a race belive in talking and not in doing.

The movie is real in some sense when u see instances of your life played on the screen. I was surprised when I saw tears in aamir khan's eyes with the question, Why Ajay?, he never did a bad thing in life, he did everything that a dutiful son, a good friend and a loyal patriot would do, then why him, why did it have to happen to sonia, I have seen this happen, I have had tears in my eyes with similar questions on my lips and i have heard the wilderness whisper, It is to serve a purpose. May be the sole purpose of the flight commanders life was to awaken the five youths. As Sue pointed out, Dj may be physically sleeping but he had just awaken.

Personally, I am still asleep waiting to wake up with a jolt from my deep stupor. There is no escaping the fact, I will have to wake up, or is it that I am already awake but am closing my eyes, feigning sleep to avoid the world and escape the world, but like I said before, u never know when life surprises you.But after I wake up, and figting my battle go back to sleep, I just wish to meet my end, not screaming, not in silence but with smile on my lips, hope in my heart and laughter all around . Amen

The Wilted Jasmine

I was reading the newspaper when i came across the review for the new movie Kalyug. To give a brief writeup on it it is about a young couple who are caught on video in a hotel making love, the most personal and intimate act a person can do. To continue with the story, these get recorded and is flooded across as soft pornographic material.As obvious the couple get devastated and what happens next is the story the movie is made of but my story is not about the movie but abt the jasmine which blossomed , fragranted the world with the sweet smell and then after some time was torn down by the bitter wind of human callousnes and perverted minds, this story is about the Mysore Mallige.

I dont know anything about the actual story and i dont care about it too. To my mind it was an act of betrayal, an act of extreme devotion on one's part and extreme callousness on the other. My story is about the innocent girl from coorg who got sucked up in this because of extreme un-reciprocted trust on her part and greed and lust on the boy's . I dont know how the CD they made got leaked, i dont know whether to agree to the boys story that it was for personal viewing which got leaked to the public, but what i am fascinated by is the story of that girl, and how was she able to meet the world, if she did.

It is very difficult for anyone who is not an Indian to even comprehend what "Duties" mean for an individual, what "Personal-Image" means for them and what value "Respect" holds for them.I know these are very superficial qualities but this what the pretensious indian mentality is made up of. The girl was in her prime, very pretty, intelligent and bubbly, but one act of foolishness destroyed her whole life. What happens when u are so publicly humilated, what happens when your whole character is ripped in public with thousands roving eyes trying to judge you, what happens when million perverts who watched you get tricked by some rich kids, call u bitch, what happens when those billion so called gentlemen, who have watched u have sex and recreate those scenes everyday in their mind say "Hussies desrve it" .What happens then???

I have no answer, but i have million question again spring up in my mind? Why do these cds get created in the first place, who buys it? Why is human being so beastly that he succumbs to these instincts so much? Why is self control such a matter to smirk at, Why is gandhi's experiment called the doomed project, Why?? If controlling insticts is wrong then what is it that separates us from animals. The question is on the table and answers I have none.

But on a personal note , what right do I have to say something about it, wasn't I one of those 30 guys cramped in front of a 15 inch monitor, seeing each action relishing every moment. Why do I react when i was one of the pervert who paid 10 bucks to see it. I ask myself this question but find no answer from the deep. My eyes are shut again, the heart has stopped pounding as if silent to escape from itself, the body stiff as dead and the mind bellowing with prayers for forgiveness but the jasmine remain wilted, the fragnance has been long lost, the flower has been long trampled on, and the mysore mallige remain asleep to the world. For her own good???