Monday, March 19, 2007

Chic is out chicken is in………..a new age foodie joint in the making…….




Off late I been thinking a lot about the kind of restaurant I would like to open and as I was googling to just get a feel of what kind of ambience is on offer......I found a preponderance of sophistication and dramatic decors that awe the visitor ........towering plants, exotic upholstery suck you heels off carpeting air-conditioning "just right"....etc...........a thorough foodie I have tried a variety of restaurants pan the whole spectrum , right from the seediest ramshackle breakfast joint to some of the most luxurious “definitely” upper-class eateries that rely on their décor and “service with a smile” to wow the customer, food being a sidelined issue the customer would be too embarrassed to complain about.

I’ve noticed people who are really driven by their palate don’t care about the ambience as long as hygiene is maintained. Its those segment of people I hope to “wow “someday somewhere………….
Pondering on what will attract me to the restaurant apart from a load of good well meaning subtle PR work………….would be definitely the “AROMA”……….hence I am going to name it AROMAH………….

To describe my dream it will have a lot of natural materials, jute, woven rough cloth died in vibrant shades……local handicrafts…….pottery, .predominantly earthen………loads of lanterns about the place……….but not so dim that you cannot make out the food on your plate……….a trial area…..where all the food to be sold will be on view so that you can choose what you want to eat……….and see how it looks……….and even taste it………….to fuel your anticipation ………..my food will look as good as it tastes………

I shall have potted plants with cooking herbs growing fresh……..all around the restaurant……….garlic and other sheaves hanging from the roof………..which I hope to make either cane or semi thatched………….depends……….as I said a place that relies on its food………………and the smile will be provided by those who eat there…………

Cuisine will be multinational………that’s something I still need to research on…….and will primarily depend on the place I set up………..i aim to position it for people who are jaded with the usual run of the mill restaurants and wish to get that extra zing in their lives and not to forget their taste buds and stomachs…………………

Hope this is not just a pipe dream……………..i already know what it ought not look like…………time will tell what it ought to look like……….

Sunday, March 18, 2007

humour at my own expense

Multitudes spend their lives just chasing after things people and goals in the hope that they might find meaning in the existence......that they might be needed by someoen or essential to someone's well being..........the whole concept of procreation too boils down to the same line of thought.........

And i in my naive way used to wonder why there is the need to be needed.........alas i too succumbed to this need ..........indifference is a very very scarce commodity....around ME i see people wooing love and affection through materialistic things,through blackmail,through any conceivable means............strangely this association IS NOT THE MEANS TO AN END ITS THE END.........

i just wanted to be loved and trusted unconditionally............but the world is too used to conditions.........something ive learnt to accept.........i sincerely hope though to the Lord.........that the hardness of cynicism doesnt corrode my soul before i find that unconditionality................

But in the heart of hearts.......call it intuition......or a sense of foreboding.........i know i will never find it..........its judt a hollow dream........not the means to and end but the END itself.........a perfect sifar.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

LIFE A STRANGE MIX.......

Life is a strange mix……..sometimes so much activity and at others none at all. I wonder if this is the idea behind existence, to make it meaningful, to find meaning in life. to enjoy whatever you do. I guess that is what life means………today I am not writing from the point of view of a blog………….just a sad resignation that maybe I never did understand the reason for my being………and also that a certain number of events have gone to make me feel so. It is so strange….why do we need to earn, to get settled .to have a family, to slog our life blood out?

I don’t know maybe I am making number of mistakes in life at this juncture. Maybe I am looking in the wrong direction and hoping for help that will never be forthcoming. Maybe I have made a grievous error in judgment in my personal and professional life. or maybe its just one of those days when one feels al is going wrong.

I don’t know how to see clearly and objectively. Oh what I would give to see all objectively and clearly. How beneficial it would be for me. I see right before my very own eyes…………people whom I never trusted …….standing up for me and people I trusted beyond the grave leaving me in a lurch……….what to believe…………I don’t know anymore.

Just got a call from someone I thought didn’t care for me ,didn’t respect me and what do I see………..i don’t need to speak and all is understood. how I neglect those who love me……..how I neglect their needs………that’s one mistake I seem to be making over and over again……….why am I so callous? Why am I so blind…………to be thought about in their darkest moments and their happiest moments……what more could I ask…….isn’t this love isn’t this friendship………..isn’t this trust?a trust beyond the grave is what I wanted……..it was always there…….and I was too blind to see…………a trust that speaks of love of caring of sharing and belief in what you are…………a trust that means that you can stand up and not look behind and still know there is someone behind you………..

As life unfolds on me………I surprisingly am getting to see that trust from unexpected quarters………..that I am confused at the will of God……….and I suddenly sit up and ask………to be or not to be…………….?

Sunday, March 11, 2007

a few of my favourite flowers.......










since i am about it...let me make a list of all my favourite flowers.......i have a ertish for the purples and whites......lilies and sweet smelling ones.........but mostly i like all those flowers that have sturdy stems and can be arranged with ease....for one ......i dislike balsam or sweat pea ......because they aent vase flowers.........let me just upload the pics and let you have a feast for your eyes..........


Edelweiss is a favourite alpine flower........a favourite of mine because of its frsgile petals and easily crushed look.........a contradiction to what i just said..........i know but then am i not a contradiction myself???


blue bells

larkspurs/delphiniums

forget-me-nots

daffodils

lilies of the valley

black eyed susans


baby's breath..........

Saturday, March 10, 2007

CALA LILIES


There is something of singular beauty in this flower that i just cant take my eyes off it when i see it.........either in a vase or growing wild..........one of my favourite flowers.......the day i get married..........i shall carry the bridal bouquet with them......god willing.........

PROF RAMASASTRY

there are some people one will always remember for their queer traits...........proff ramasastry is just one of those people ....one cant forget in a hurry............my marketing proff...........who taught me how to go thru b school without kotler...........lolz.........for us SIMSITEs he is "GOD".........and not simply for the fact that he guest lectures at keloggs..........but because he put the fear of the allmighty in us if we dont give timely submissions..........and literally rips us apart with his schimitar of a tongue.
when we were freshers we ......especially females were told that ladies were his pet hate..........must to our astonishment..........i was in an all female group ......and won appreciation from him for our presentations..............
i just love the way he can rip out apart smiling and sarcastically turning the tables on you........no gyan baaji in his class.......if you know your facts.....substantiated with authentic data n numbers....he'll love you.......or simply brush you off like a irritating fly...........many flies amongst us.....lolz..........and sometimes i too was relegated to that position..................

a challenge to please him......and his creativity at humour..(ofcourse at our expense)........would give sidhu a run for his money.......
here are a few samples...........

par sach baat kahoon.....rama ki class lagane pe hi rama ka flavour samajh mein aata hai......

SEXY RAMA DIALOGUES………………….



" how will choose a wife among many girls ? will u test all of them will u compare all? how can u compare different girls having different qualities , so how can u compare whirlpool with godrej"



"Arre baba you want to marry Aishwary Rai...tell me frankly u want to or not? But are you able to satisfy all her needs...have you thought whats going to happen to you after that....?!!!"

"this joint venture is like two gay fellows trying to make babies"!!
he cud totally give siddhu a run for his money!!


If a lady is pregnent, how long can she hold...
she has to deliver, she cant hold more than 9 months...

so what are u waiting for ...come and give ur presentation... ;)



look at this girl she does not know what she is talking....she is just talking like a parrot...



ur value proposition statement should neither be a bikini nor a skirt,it should be a saree.

"This BOY is presenting the perfect example of INTELLECTUAL ORGASM" when I "tried" to point out his contradicting statements.
He is a great guy. Perfet Intellect ;)

" when rambha menka and urvashi will dance infront of u and all naked , will u close ur eyes and if yes then u r not a boy.


when maneka is dancing in front of u.. will u open ur eyes or not
ANOTHER one..
this boy has got no brains.. a perfect yerwada case..

would u like a Virgin brand whch haaas no unnecessary line extensions or would u like a brand whch is not a virgin.....


these students r like "little hanumans"! they have tremendous potential but r themselves not aware of it!

look at this buoy..hes talkin like a hindi filim hero..just beatin around the bush nt cmin to the puoint..

Look at this boy...He is talking like a donkey without tail.

Never knew tail-less donkey talked differently, or Donkey's talk for that matter.

Truly a genius..


how can a goat pull a cart carryin 100 elephants...similarly how can fastrack pull titan out of the hole its into..


This booaauuuy is traaying to be a man and a woman at the same time ... is it possible


a girl having a gud geography always had a bad history.........


if u marry a fatty lady, and have 4-5 fatty kids, which car will u buy.... u will need a tata safari!


well yesterday was the last class of Brand Mgmt of Rama's for us.....
The last dialogue i ll remember on the last day....
Some guy in our class was telling Rama his own view point...to tis he replied...."I THINK WE ARE LOOKING AT THE SAME LADY...I M LOOKING FROM THE FRONT AND UR LOOKING FROM THE BACK"....

MY DECISION IS MADE

Finally I have made up my mind
My soul doth rest at the purpose I’ve devised for myself
Good bad or worst…
I don’t care as I embark on this …..
Yet another journey of triump, failure, turmoil……
I know not what will befall me
I know not the way
The only thing I know
I have Thee as my armour
My mainstay ……in all the storms
Such deep faith I have in thee
Thou shall deliver me from evil……..
And my protection be

There is no one who I can lean on
So much I yearn to rest………..
But life is nothing if not a test
A test of my patience
A test of my spirit
And I shall flounder not, though tempted be
For I can see the way now
At least till the horizon……
Walk it I will
The path…….only I wish……..
I wish……
I had someone to share each step
But it was never to be……
And all around me I see…….
Faces……….
Strange faces………none familiar
And in them all I look for one face……..
Never seen it but I know
The day I shall behold
Ill cry tears of blood
From the eyes that have long since dried
And parched…….

And all the while I know what I have to do
And do it I shall
Walk the way I will
Move on still……….
Till……….
I reach the crossroads……..
And yet another decision to make….
But then life never was a song
Mine never was, never will be
I have a lot of took do


Many who love me……
Their responsibilities untold
Cosset them…..love them, make them feel cherished
That’s my task…….
Never to sit under the shade of a tree and ………..
In its cooling shade bask……..
This is my lot, this is my duty
This is my life…

SELF REALISATION ..HOW PAINFUL IT CAN GET.AND YET A RELIEF?

Today as I stand at an important juncture of my life, the cross of self-realization is something I have to bear till it ceases to plague me. I’m learning gradually what I’ve always wanted to know. However I’ve also seen that self realization no longer means self actualization …both are inherently different concepts with a very thin differentiating line. Most often they are used interchangeably. Self actualization is not just discovering the real you but treading the path that will actually be acceptable to the real you…
I read a book, but superficially comprehending it is not going to be of any use to me unless I imbibe it, understand it, and finally incorporate it into the fabric of my life.
So terribly sad… we deliberate on weighty questions of the universe in the search for freedom in the search of the self. But just knowing the self is not adequate. One needs to feed the self to do something to make it sustain its development. That is where most of us fail.siddhi is not knowing or realizing but practicing what you realize.

Today I’ve ceased to be restless because ive got a few insights about myself or maybe I need to word it a little different in light of the new knowledge I have about myself…
Ive finally accepted what ive always known but through my natural protectiveness have always ignored and tried to shy away from. Extraordinarily my subconscious knew what it was doing firewalling me in this case from the rude shocks of discovering the deepest depths of my soul.
I swear I can vouch for this any day…the process of self realization is by far the most painful…and as you go step by step further the journey becomes more and more painful…however by then the person is so conditioned to suffering the way he is destined to …that he doesn’t actually feel the pain but looks fervently towards the final goal.

You know I’ve always thought that renunciation is something that doesn’t mean much because the real man is one who stays here and does the will of god and fulfils his duties and at the same time fulfils destiny and the purpose of his being born…
Generally a sanyasi who leaves the world is fed up with the complexities of the worldly life and craves simplicity to get closer to God without the distortions created by the world to hinder that connectivity…
But he is still human and that he has given up the world is just his illusion…
To go from complexity to simplicity one needs to understand the complex process of desire, of belief, of pain, of sorrow, envy, of accumulation.
This is the true meaning of renunciation to understand and yet not be affected…till it ceases to be…and whatever has meaning can never be learned for elsewhere…you can only find it inside you when u look inside in yourself…SIMPLICITY-when you have no ashes of outward renunciation but the inward freedom from allconflicts, suppressions, ambitions, imitations.
Today ive realized this and have all along known it. this is what has pained my soul and created a conflict inside…
The real me was very simple so simple that it revolted against the imposition of the veneer we all so often use to camouflage from the world what we think is our vulnerability, but in actuality is our one and only strength.
In the true sense ive realized I had renounced the world a long time back shunned its complexities and hence found the convoluted workings a thing to ponder on and get confused against.
This is plainly expounded by the fact that I was always at variance with what really meant something to me. Hence the conflict. Now I know end accept gratefully what I know to be true. The real challenge however lies ahead of me…to incorporate this in my life…for which I have to be prepared to suffer rebuke suffer deprivation suffer ridicule and most of all the skepticism of my loved ones. Yes I did mention earlier its going to get progressively painful…this is just the beginning…

Another astounding realization ive discovered about myself is…
I talk of change…
Change from my earlier most haphazard ways to a more serial methodical and spiritually acceptable way of living and loving God.
Ive defined my goal
And the road to find it
And am walking it too….
And then all of a sudden I realized…
When I say I need to change form “this” to ‘that”, ‘that’ is already known: therefore it is not change. When I change from selfishness to selflessness I have already defined selflessness meaning it’s a not a new concept to me. The movement hence is still within a known field for me. I’ve experienced selflessness or I wouldn’t have known it…maybe what I seek I have tasted before…as I get closer marginally closer to my goal I am looking at it as though ive been there before a huge déjà vu follows at every step for me.
What I require is the final cessation of this need to change, which means the end of the desire to change. To accept what I am as I am. And make use of what I am not expect to do wonders with I am not. This involves a huge effort because since childhood we have been conditioned to think that we must change for the better. None have realized this that when we want to change for the better. That means we already know what better means and that we have it inside us already.
In short we are all white but have let layers of grime collect…the accumulation needs to stop then only will we recognize our true faces in the mirror.
And so the journey continues …

a POV

there are many things we genneraly dont divulge to absolute strangers...........or maybe divulge a bit too much to strangers because we know anonymity will take care of our privacy.........i did the same once.........only the person in question didnt remain a stranger.........unfortunately he never did understand me............and this issue always remained a bone of contention between us.................
but my friends for those who like to explore such a relationship...........my advise or simple observation...............it is most easy to open up but very difficult to find acceptance..............its best never to expect anything of the sort and let things take their course.........i am now trying to clear up the emotinal clutter i went through.....and see things as objectively as i can.........may God help me..........

however i must say these are the most beautiful untramelled relationships one can have................be accepted without reservations..........if only it were true in my case......

ACCEPTANCE

There is no alternative, no respite
How much I struggle, however much I flail
It will always be there
It is the beginning and the end…
And doth at me stare…
In the glaring brightness of the day
Or the velvet darkness of the night
No, I need no sight
Yet do feel its presence
Doesn’t make me feel afraid or tense
But just an easy acceptance

Why do I struggle so against it?
A battle of wills
Who will be stronger? Of course me
For I mean to win eventually
But will I be happy, satisfied?
Will it be victory or a sad defeat?
Once again will my life be orderly and neat
Or if I’m honest a colorless tasteless and bland existence

Is this what I want?
Or the richness of a fulfilled life
Of a mission accomplished and my soul at rest
A road walked till the end…
No regrets no moment unlived
The happy and sad, the joyous and troubled a perfect blend
Each moment like a pearls strung together
The jewels of my life…

Nay Nay I will no longer fight it
It will be a part of me and wherever I go …
Will be my shadow walking in my footsteps
Its tread I do hear and so
Even in a lonely world never do feel lonesome
The One, the It, the only thing, I can call all mine
It will be there eternally even after I am gone
No longer do I struggle to supercede
But as one walk ahead broadly smiling at life’s little ways
And this shall be the pattern of my days.

Friday, March 9, 2007

DIVINE GRACE

O Lord where wilt I find thee
In the heaven above or earth below it?
We thy children pine for thee
Why thou dost always shower your blessings upon me…

O Almighty!
Clear the hearts of all superfluity
Thou are the creator of the world
Take heed of thy little herd.
Forsake us not ever
Let not this bond ever sever…

Tired in the long race
Take me in thy loving embrace
Free me from agony and pain
Otherwise your creation is in vain….

Where art thou hidden I cannot see
Cannot fathom where thou canst be
I’ve hunted all over the earth for thee
At last I found you embedded in me!

THAT FEELING

The world beckons fiercely, clingingly and enrapturing my senses
But what do I really want, need…
Not this greed
Not sloth, or the sluggish lethargy of a mind go weak,
Neither the vile passions
Nor all the lust and wealth of this world.

I only want to see the world, as it should be
Clean pure and free of the colors we paint it in
Colors of the treachery of our souls
Colors so bright and enticing that they seem real
And steal all our reason,

I know this is but a season.
The season of my depravement,
The season of my temporary insanity
But look what it has left
A void
A human shell

From somewhere deep that pain doth swell again and again
“When will this purgatory end?”
Cries it again and again
.”Will there be no end?”
Am I destined to be that lone leaf flying, buffeted and tossed about in the wind
Or will I find final destination.
Rest my head and get eternal peace

The peace, which is freedom in itself –a welcome release
Yet no release
Because it never was a bondage
A feeling above else, yet no feeling at all.
Undefined, yet very sure
Secure and always there just within reach, yet far
MY MEMORIES OF THE DAYS IN THE HOSPITAL

After that fateful day when I met with that accident I still felt that nothing much could happen since I was alive and kicking if only figuratively. My thanks to the almighty for sparing my parents of any further pain. I love them so much that every time that they wince I wince double. Strangely enough most of their problems have been inadvertently been because of me. Never been able to dissociate from the pain of others. Though I don’t say it, express it but I feel so horribly ….so real…the anguish of others………that’s why that day………

I felt Pooja’s horror at what happened to her leg…….the blood seeping through. thank god it was a superficial cut.Aman was so much more concerned about the cut on her face…..and if it would leave a scar….the funny thing…..i remember for days after words how she used to use Nomarks just so that it didn’t leave a scar.
Thank god both were safe.
Then my sojourn started. The pain of septic flesh. I was tormented more by the pain my mother had to bear. Her only daughter laid up in a hospital and husband miles away in a hostile region (Khanabal where they had that Sikh massacre).i never let her see my physical pain. in fact I told her not to tell dad,coz I didn’t want him to be worried about me at a time when he needed all his wits about him to counteract insurgency. He had a lot of responsibility at that time, lots of lives to look after. if there is one thing I am proud about .is to be my father’s daughter. He has taught me to laugh in the face of adversity. The man fears no one and nothing. And duty comes to him before anything and anyone. a very difficult proposition to live upto but nevertheless shouldn’t the ideal always be sky high?

Let me not digress further lest you think that I am a die hard fan of my father. Well I do love him but I am not blind to his faults. when I was admitted to the hospital the surgeon in charge doctor banerjee an man of excellent repute who I remember with great fondness and esteem even today told my mother to inform my father, which I was told later on was because he wasn’t sure that he would be able to save my leg and hence wanted my father to sign the operation papers. I think that took away half of my parents life from them. They became old overnight just at the thought of that. I have always been a restless soul and restriction of mobility for me like that would amount to signing my death warrant. I would go downhill very soon and predictably without anyone knowing it…silently.
When dad came he was very annoyed with mom for not informing him earlier.14 days had lapsed since the first time stitches had been put in place. And all those days I thought I was getting better I was progressively getting worse till finally an alarming 105 temperature shocked mom into action.

Those days I wasn’t very close to dad though I still maintain I loved him all through. I might have been all kinds of things-rude horrible mean .you name it I was that. To both of them. But still they had it in themselves to forgive me. Never once they hated me. I don’t know why they love me so much. Well anyway I never saw a man pray as much as my dad does or rather did during those days. He seldom spoke mumma says. She just used to put food before him which he left barely untouched and then he used to go to sleep after listening to the news. Never told mom a single thing what happened in the operation theatre.afterwords he told …………had never seen anything as horrible. Which I still think he exaggerated. The doctor too I believe took especial care of me because he saw in me the will never to stop walking. I remember how the nurses used to do the dressings for me daily in the mornings and how I used to scream blue murder because I wasn’t allowed painkillers.gangrine cannot be affected by painkillers. It was horrible muddle. I remember very little. My selective amnesia came to rescue once again. all I remember is that dad used to be there at the hospital early in the morning at 6:00 am daily for my dressing with a flask full of sweet lime or orange juice which he used to give me to drink after the job was done and I with my swollen blotchy face used to gulp down as though it was a lifesaver.

That flask of juice was a link which was a reward and a healing touch in itself. What I call mumma ka pyar.every morning a ritual it became .mom would get up in the morning, squeeze fresh juice and then send dad off to the hospital. this was the ritual for 48 days while little by little the infection was controlled. in between I had grilling schedules with the physiotherapist as I developed a stiff knee and couldn’t walk without a limp and drag. He made me frog jump on my haunches from corridor to corridor just to loosen up the joints. The fear of not walking normally again was so much more than the oozing blood from the bandages and throbbing pain from my gaping wound.
In the evenings Dr Banerjee used to come and spend some time just talking. In a span of two weeks we were as thick as thieves. And we had discussed everything under the sun from modern medicine to economics to society to his family problems and his career aspirations. it was during that time he told me of his decision to leave the army. he said he didn’t find fulfillment in doing the job under enormous restrictions where formalities were a way of life, where medicine was important but not as important as all the red tapism which was so much a part of the army regime. I knew at that time that he was plainly fed up with the system but wouldn’t leave no matter what coz he wouldn’t know how to survive elsewhere.(the last I heard of him he was serving the president of India at RR)

Not long before I had lost something I really thought immensely precious to my life. The remnants of that pain found way here. I had a reason and an excuse to cry. Silently so …….i let the tears pour and no one noticed. What I gave up more than tears was the hope of ever finding that precious again. And having tasted what rejection can be, I understood all the more clearly how people can feel when they are forsaken by their own. there was this lady in the burns ward who was left there by her own family.oh they used to bring food for her……….but leave it there beside her….as though a woman burnt all from her neck till her legs can feed herself. She was in such torment and I was in equal torment because I knew not how to help her. Only we knew what we both were undergoing. Me a metamorphosis from my carefree careless days to graver sanity, she from her illusion of well loved self-sufficiency to helpless hapless loneliness. The nurse only allowed me for one hour daily at night at round 1 o clock, when all were abed and only insomniacs like me are drifting around. Auntie used to tell me which areas were itching and I used to pour cooling saline water to relieve her. Or sometimes apply some foul smelling paste to areas which were badly hurt. Can you imagine what a person feels when about 87% of your body is burnt? I would surely like to commit suicide. When we burn as much as a finger we wince in pain. Imagine your body a mass of indistinguishable flesh melted away from direct contact with fire. Lying there in a ward uncovered for all to gape at with no privacy and your dignity stripped away.
The pain so bad that you don’t mind a 20 year old girl gaze at your naked body grotesque beyond recognition, help you and sit and talk to you. Another reason the nurse didn’t want me to stay in the burns ward was because me having an infection that I had I was more susceptible to worsening it. Nevertheless we bonded against all odds.(funnily I don’t even remember her name).And I used to sneak in sometimes during lunch time to tell her what I ate or sometimes share with her little tidbits. She was very fond of non-veg and despite all protestations I say it was the sheer intake of solid proteins that made me walk again. Even doctors marveled at my appetite which to my mortification was huge.Ok it wouldn’t be exaggerating if I said I ate one chicken per day or rather had to eat it if I wanted to get cured fast and not miss one year.
It was my final year of graduation. I couldn’t afford to miss one year. Rather I couldn’t afford to let myself miss one year. My friend Navdeep, a gem of a person used to come and give me notes to study which I used to deal with in the dead of the night when no one was about. Those were the days when I developed a severe case of insomnia………couldn’t sleep for more than 2-3 hours per day, and yet be as fresh as a daisy in the morning. When I was able to walk with a greater deal of ease, mom came to the hospital to see me. Till then she wouldn’t come anywhere near the hospital. She once heard me scream when the nurses were dressing my wounds and got so frightened that she went came only at times when she knew my dressing was over. By then dad had exhausted his leave and had to go back to duty……….duty to duty…..what a life…………

Now was the real fix. I needed someone to cling to, just a hand, while the dressing was being done………..mom was petrified at the thought when I asked her to come. She just wouldn’t come. so I hardened my heart and went through them on my own…..clamping down on my cries till it all became a pale blur…….but then things weren’t as bad as they were before ………I could even look at it without wincing…….docs told me dad became pale when he first time saw my wound during the operation…….he thought it was a sheer miracle I survived(also another problem was brewing all that time –frontal fracture in the skull and internal left ear bleeding).things started to pick up from then. Uncle Desmond visited me twice during the time I spent in the hospital, bringing me my favourite bitter chocolates (banned for me but he sneaked).it was then I realized many things. How I had been blessed with so many people who loved me for just what I was and not the way I looked or whatever other superficial reason could be there. when I lost Rajeev I thought I was good for no one, my self confidence was badly shaken, then God intervened and I saw around me my loved ones and felt such remorse …………..inexplicable pain at my callousness ….when I saw that burnt lady and that woman who in the ICU begged for poison because she didn’t want to live despite the fact she had two little children to live for, that diabetic lady who smiled on each day as she suffered and died(she had maggots in her leg which was incurable due to excessive diabetes….her leg used to be cut every week till it reached her hips and she died of septic shock…she used to stink like a sewer and still smile through it all)…what right had I to think in such a way and ridicule God’ gift to me LIFE.

I was healing not only on the surface but also deep inside. It was very essential. And I’ve noticed it’s often that I get such rude shocks. That’s proof enough to me that He never forsakes me. No matter how far I wander off He always brings in the lost sheep. the days passed on thus in a whirl…..me gaining from strength to strength….I saw many pass on to His home, many go to their homes healthy and smiling, finally so did I, but a changed person, and not really changed too…..maybe Grown up would be the correct description. there are something’s some experiences one can never document with justice and yet never erase from memory…this is just one of many that I’ve been through…….and I know this is one of the milder ones I have to pass through …..That the real trials are yet ahead…….

THE EHSAAS...UNDEFINED

The seamless blue of the sky doth tell me
The golden brown of the earth
The whispering warm breeze
And in this instant I wish, how I wish, time doth freeze
And as I breathe I stop or cease
The world falls away from me,
Like I’m on a mad carousal
Riding through space and ages
Watching my life in different stages
Each colored in brilliant hues
Feelings of sorrow, love, remorse galore

Then as I fall through space
I wonder what’s in store
Is there more?
Or I am finally no more?
Is this the after or before?
Or just one silly stopgap
Before the last lap.

I know where I am going,
But the going stretches on and on
So long…
Finally I know ill reach where I belong
For the End I am strong
Or is it just the beginning
Of a whole new experience

Is it…?
The conjurations of a desperate mind
Scared to see what it may eventually find
Or just trying to be blind
No I will dither not
What I got is what I sought
Anything else naught…

Through this all I feel…
The seamless blue of the sky doth tell me…
The golden brown of the earth
The whispering warm breeze
And in this instant I wish, how I wish, time doth freeze
And as I breathe I stop or cease.

WE WILL MEET

Dearest, do not follow me
Let go of me…
Still I cover my tracks to be sure…
Erase those footprints that I leave behind
And like a free bird fly…. yet bound within to you..
Free form this purgatory
The earth that’s so transitory
And yet like a dark shadow
Lurks o’er our dreams.

Dear beloved grieve not for me
For I die not
It is just that I have moved on.
And in thou shalt live on.
And that day you’ll be no man
And me no woman
That day you’ll be my Jesus-my saviour
My husband, my prophet, my priest, my king,
My friend, my lover, my mother, my brother, my child,
My way, my word, my life, my all…

And like two halves shall we unite
At last be free of this eternal strife
Then the matrix will be complete
The zeros and ones in consummate harmony
As preordained by destiny
That day the horizon will appear
Not like it does
With two ends that never meet
But like one inside the other
Perfectly blent
Boundless earth encased in
Ceaseless, bottomless, dimensionless sky
And that day shall time never fly
But stand still
So we can have our fill….

I know it is a dream
A chimera, still to you
Just as I am
A dream we nevertheless saw together
And will still evermore
Till I reach with you the eternal shore………

ODOURS OF MY LIFE........

People store up memories in the eyes of their heart and mind, but to me I store up smells and feelings. Quaint as it may sound that’s true .I have this extraordinary affinity with smells. Don’t know why
But I guess its because I react to them just as others react to other stimuli.
This poem is dedicated to the different fragrant memories I have….


If I close my eyes and take a deep breath …
I can see
Can feel the salty tang of the sea
The spray of many a waterfall
Tiny droplets like dewdrops
Wispy and fine
Smelling of sunshine
Fresh and cool enough to make me just a lil tipsy
The sweet sultry smell of freshly cut green grass.
Its sap headier than the bouquet of the finest wine
Turns my brain to mush and body fill with lethargy
Oh how I wish on that sluggish summer afternoon
I could sleep and sleep, drowsily and deep
Fragrant flowers bring back memories
Sweet peas, sweet as their name
Bring with them the droning of a thousand bees
The whispering of the trees
Their branches waving ever so gently
The bittersweet smell of crushed neem seeds underfoot
Spicy aroma of eucalyptus leaves
Crushed fallen intoxicating maple leaves
Citrus tangy lime and orange blossom

Incense in the temples
And musty interiors of old churches
Telling untold stories of the lives they’ve led
Smell of freshly shaven pencils
And wax as it melts
Fresh paint on walls and door
Turpentine and polish …
The brooding stillness of a house
Its long forgotten walls craving love and life
Redolent with the musty dank smells of decay
Yet with a promise of life
Waiting, Waiting, waiting…
Olive oil and tangy spices
Mustard with its bite
Rancid sour cheese as it matures
Onions that do make the tears run
Pungent garlic and mint in the kitchen
Of days of cooking…
Freshly baked bread, cakes and warm ovens remind me
Of laughing children, tittering teenagers…
Well-cooked meals, of happy families…

The smell of freshly moistened earth
Parched from the hot scorching sun that never does cease
The tang of sweat doth kick my memory
Stray traces of evocative talc or aftershave…
Freshly ironed linen sweet and clean
The potpourri in the cupboard
Year after year never looses its fresh lavender
That permeates the very being
And remains long after its essence is gone…

The musty and earthy smells of the manure, cattle and sheep
I recollect all behind my eyes in a deep dreamless sleep
The aseptic scary smells of the hospital wards
That smell of spirit, and the pharmacy
Doth plague my spirit and inspire mortal fear
Obnoxious choking fumes of the vehicle exhausts, like a burr on the senses…
And in contrast the smell of my baby kid shoes doth bring a tear…
Or the smell of a fine sky so clear…. freedom
So many smells…
Nice smells, coarse smells, earthy smells, interesting smells, pungent smells, strong smells, nasty smells, evocative smells, special smells.
Each one doth in our lives dwell
And each, just as special
Makes up the fabric of my life
Be it pleasure, pain, joy or strife.
Because this is life
And they are life…

OLD LANES REVISITED

“Memories from the bygone days”
I remember writing so ….
On a hot June afternoon…..
Still………not a leaf shaking
Not a whisper of breeze…….
And now on this November noon
I write again
Memories of the bygone days
Come back as a spectre from the dead


You ask again and again
Answers I know but have deliberately locked away
Nay will not open that door again
It’s gone …….
It’s over……
It’s done with…………
I know we live and love on
It is meant to be till each their freedom shall get.
What I wanted to tell you all since
I did love you as ……….
I will always do so
And it never will require your presence in my life


You will move on flourish
And my blessings shall always dog your feet
A smile shall always follow
That’s the way I love
And shall always Love
Nothing more do I ask
Nothing more need I give
You’ll see yet again
When we depart
You’ll feel my presence still
Even when I am gone
Hopefully this time
It will be a happy warmth
Not restlessness
Not a torment


I never wanted it to be so…
And to correct I’ll strive
You’ll see the difference
Am always unmasked to you
Fear not
You need not from me
I can’t harm you ever
Because I love you and in that love
I haven’t got the power to hurt
Only bless


No consummation, no culmination but a continuation
To be……….
That’s how I describe myself
What you call inertia
I’ve discovered
Is not so………….
Its ceaselessness of my being
I’ve had a long wait……….a long long journey undertaken
And soon to the Father’s bosom shall I go…
And still shall bless you…


I have understood the crux of my being
My cross to carry I call it……….
How many have I carried…..
Lost count of them……
Strangely they haven’t left bitterness into my soul…….
Just increased the love I feel for those who are struggling so
Each wakeful moment I see someone trying so hard
And in each effort I bless them
Am no saint……sinner maybe or I wouldn’t be here
Waiting to pay my dues…….




Yet I feel privileged
Each blessed morn when I look out of the window
At the tranquil hills
My stony visage reflecting not the pleasures I behold…
Still as the morning calm.
And at such times I bless you……..
You deserve the best…….
You’ve struggled so much…….
I’ve felt each pain………..
As my own……
You shall find your peace…….
For that I shall pray evermore
This time you’ll find your freedom……
And love with a love greater that you ever felt….
The love of the almighty…..
Not the mortal soul.


And I’ll stand on the shore of life and laugh
The laugh of the truly happy
Oh what joy it will be….
You just cannot imagine ……seeing you finally free
When you shall cease to be and you shall cease to feel
When nothing will dog your steps
When no memory will plague you like unfinished business
All will be fine then……….
That day I will smile………

NAMELESS

A bond no one can sever least of all me
How I stretch how I fight
Not stifling but invigorating
Like a shot of coffee to a parched throat
A drug ,yet calling it so would be such an understatement
Life-giving breath
Is the best it can be
Long after I have stopped even breathing


That’s the way I feel your love
Why I hate you so much
Have spoilt me for everything, everyone
How can I settle for less having glimpsed at my heaven
A heaven that’s cursed
A life that can never be
This truth I knew when I first met you
And acceptance have been seeking since
To grasp reality to accept
To flourish in pain
Which I used to do so beautifully
This is going to be much worse
Than I thought it could be


Am not prepared for each cruel word you say ……
Though I pretend to be………..
Pretend to laugh it off………
But only I know how it wounds……….
And I never could forget easily nor forgive
And yet you I forgive even before the retaliation is out of my mouth
Why am I incapable of hurting you as I yearn to do
Is it self preservation?
Is it cowardice or is it plain love
Whatever it can be I know……….
For a fact that it can never be
There is no future
No you and me


And that hell I’ve lived through all the while I’ve been with you…..
Each single minute of the nine months……
Its been a long journey……
And I’m tired
Need to rest
Don’t know if I can go on with you
My spirits are flagging
And my senses blurring
Oppressive is the inertia…….and ……
Even my indifference deserts me
And all I feel like is to curl into a ball and cry
As if my heart would break
Which it shall inevitably


Why have I been circled out for this pain….
I never asked to be……..
Have no pretensions to grandeur
No delusions about myself
Just asked for a little freedom
And a little love
Was that too much to ask
Too much to find
Seems not
And yet…………
“Never mind” is what I always say
NOT ACCEPT IS WHAT I DO…IRONICAL RIGHT?
Nah not so if you know the kind of person I am
As difficult as can be
A merry go ride
Ups and downs
Turn arounds
Spurts of speed
And lazy meanderings
Restless quirks and
Crazy thinking….crazy words……that’s me….always
______________________________________________________

THIS POEM IS A SOURCE OF INSPIRATION TO ME.........

One day at a time, with its failures and its fears;
With its hurts and mistakes, with its tears,
With its portion of pain and its burden of care;
One day at a time we must meet and must bear.

One day at a time to be patient and strong;
To be calm under trial and sweet under wrong;
Then its toiling shall pass and its sorrow shall cease;
It shall darken and die, and the night shall bring peace.

One day at a time –but the day is so long,
And the heart is not so brave, and the soul is not strong,
O Thou pitiful God, be thou near all the way;
Give courage and patience and strength for the day.

Swift cometh his answer, so clear and so sweet;
“Yea, I will be with thee, thy troubles to meet;
I will not forget thee, nor fail thee, nor grieve;
I will not forsake thee; I never will leave thee.”

Not yesterday’s load we are called on to bear,
Nor the morrow’s uncertain and shadowy care;
Why should we look forward or back with dismay?
Our needs, as our mercies, are but for the day.

Our day at a time , and the day is His day;
He hath numbered its hours, though they haste or delay
His grace is sufficient; we walk not alone;
As the day, so the strength that He giveth His own.

Annie Johnson Flint.

MY DESTINY IS MY CHOICE

The fire of my soul
Is a replica of the growling one in the belly of the earth
A wildness that never ceases
As cold as the artic breeze that burns the skin off the surface
As violent as the sea that crashes on the shore
As vicious as the savage wolves of the wilderness
No human can match, no god can confess

It exists in all its wonder
And ever will be so
I don’t confess ,I don’t discover anew
Its always been there………..
Constant as the stars that burn out into nothingness
As old as the bowels of the universe
As fragile as that eternal curse
I come back again and again
Just to feel the constancy of that purpose
That eternal search

Will the wait never cease
I could accuse the eternity
But isn’t that a façade
A mere veil to cover the constancy of what’s you and me
This full circle that others marvel at
And are in awe of
I laugh at the world that sees but never understands
Can you comprehend the fire without being burnt?
Nay! To Be thou shall burn too
With the same angst with the same passion
With the same fire
Not purgatory but relief…….



The relief of non existence
And of supreme existence
Of feeling without feeling
Of love without love
All fires wiped out ………
And I laugh at myself again
Who am I fooling?
Myself? Nay not you ,nor the almighty
For all will know and all do know as ever….
I neednt transmigrate to feel you in my soul


I try so hard
To keep them at bay ……….to protect to save
But my love they will come and they shall sully
that’s the way it is …wiles will never cease to be
It is for me to wait and watch if you can stand the test of time
Tides will not wait I know ,
but I wait to see the strength of thy soul
If you are mine you will stand up and fight
As I do everyday……..
And then shall I bow to thy supremacy, and love
Never before never after
That is the man I wish to see in thee
“to be or not to be” the eternal dilemma
Not something Shakespeare defined but just felt
As acutely like me and you and a million out there.


Don’t disappoint me ,I wait to see you soar
That day shall I be free…..

LOVE

When love lifts like the air
Romps like the clouds
And spreads like the sky
I taste it well

When it swirls and circles
With the wayward fluttering
Of an unknown bird
I feel its charm…

When it soothes and calms
With the crystal purity
Of a meandering brook
I feel its sanctity…

Why does it age?

Penetrate within to those
Hollow caves of greed and despair
That lair of bondage
And bind with the thickness
And suffocation of crudity,
Pain and possession,
Quenching, stifling, suffocating
That very spirit,
Which once thrilled
In its amorous awakening
Now a poor shadow
Like dried grass in a barren meadow
Shallow as the youth so callow
Defeated by its own consummation
As it rode on to its own culmination
In a great burst of a conflagration
And all that was left behind
Was soot and dust and
Cinders of a love that was so kind…

MY VISIT TO LADAKH........









Difficult yet so easy to describe the countryside, which still remains fresh in my mind. But that wouldn’t do justice to the importance of that place in my mind.ive always felt highly inadequate in the words department when I need them the most, but try I will to capture those feelings I get when I remember that place. A pale reflection im sure, but something never the less. Its barren spread was life giving to me, like fresh air sucked into oxygen-deprived lungs after spending hours in a claustrophobic room.

Melting blue skies and feathery white clouds, braving the winds. The blue was so blue that it hurt the eyes. Absolutely no pollution. Well a bane for my skin, as I had to invest in tons of sun block crème to prevent myself from burning crisply like a kebab.

The roads and narrow streets, primitive mud and rock houses and spires and domes of the local ‘gompas’ and ‘stupas’ housing relics of lord Buddha) all seemed faintly familiar…yet I’ve never been there before. The quaint little shops with treasures in terms of local art and handicrafts like gems…precious, semi- precious, Chinese silks, wooden masks and carvings etc.however at that stage what caught my attention was not the local shops but the local scenery and people.

There is no better way to observe the local color than on foot. I was like a maniac let loose. Not a word to anyone and I walked the streets alone and safe in the knowledge that if the locals could walk around wearing Rs 4 lacs worth of jewellery encrusted apparel without any mishaps, then I would court no harm.

I saw the beautiful trees...springs and rivulets of the Leh city, which is the only green city in the whole of Ladakh.A place that boasts the highest airstrip in the whole world and a radio station.

It was the month of June; peak of summer and purple passionflowers and daisies dotted the fields. Just then I realized how naïve I was, for I was running around collecting and making little posies of flowers to take with me, but the next moment almost they would wither away. My own little garden in a paradise .I thought that was still undiscovered and untouched.

Oh! I needed to apply for a patent soon!! Well jokes apart I really did pray that instant that it would forever remain that way untouched and beautiful. The cherry, almond and peach trees were in bloom and fruit laden. Blossoms everywhere and lush green branches waved in the wind. A conveniently bent willow tree served as a bridge across a swift moving ice cold streams, one of the many that go and merge into the Indus, feeding it with their life blood, gushing and bubbling with all their splendor even as they die out into non existence and merge into a much larger whole.

There on that very bridge I sat down and dipped my feet into that tempting water and imagined what it would feel like to be fully submerged in that crystal clear and of course bitingly cold water-probably instant HYPOTHERMIA!

It was like Alice in wonderland. I spent I spent unbelievable 6 hours just walking about the streets and sniffing the air and plain just reveling in life. Another moment of ecstasy for me was later that night… we had dinner in the Mess amidst the throng of people all discussing the various places of interest and treasures. All of them sadly sounded like plundering raiders come to rob the place to showcase in their homes like dead and lifeless replicas of the originals, which could never be reproduced. My soul cried in outrage at this invasion, at this violation and with disgust I walked off from there.

Strangely though the temperatures really dip at night. I was wearing a simple gray pullover and a skirt with my sturdy sneakers…and I walked on to the farthest boundary of the premises. Alongside the barbed wire enclosure there was a huge boulder as if suspended over the edge only held by those fragile looking wires… I sat on that boulder and added my weight to it, tempting it to roll over along with me.
But at that moment I thought nothing. I was mesmerized by the sky as never before. A moonless night with cold gusts of wind. Not a sound for miles except the wind groaning through the few trees that dotted the landscape and the stars twinkling so close as if I could just reach up and pick a few of those dazzlers.
I leant my back against that rock that still held some warmth it had collected during the day and blanked out my thoughts. All I could feel at that moment was immeasurable peace and calm, a sense of freedom, a feeling of being one with my surroundings. Like I had merged into the soil, dissolved into the atmosphere, flown up to the stars and just ceased to exist. That was the one moment when I wished to die and grant permanence to that beautiful feeling of being there yet not there. A supreme indifference to my surroundings and yet a heightened awareness of each grain of sand around me, as though it was a part of my very being.
Unfortunately at that moment my bliss was shattered and my parents called me to turn in. tomorrow would be another day and another place to see… more memories to make or was it revisit and refresh my memories (I never could tell…all seemed oh so familiar). But whenever I searched, wherever I went I could not recollect that feeling ever. That one moment was the closest I ever came to my God, the closest ever to oblivion, the closest to this universe. The true meaning therein, in me ,and all around me…
We travelled extensively through the length and breath of Ladakh… shades of brown, gold, occre, silver predominated everywhere. Colourful prayer flags, shaggy long haired dogs with blood shot eyes, wild as their surroundings, free as they were born to be… gompas with mysterious monks chanting prayers oblivious to our presence… their yellow and maroon robes rustling as they walk past and disappear into equally mysterious cavernous dark monasteries in search of the higher plane… a never-ending quest which I too have discovered… the smell of the burning incense and yak milk grease, yellow beaked huge ravens, their ugliness not a blot on the surroundings but in perfect harmony… fighting and screaming raucously for scraps of food that tourists throw to them…shy exquisitely dressed maidens with smooth blushing cheeks and dainty feet clad in raw hide moccasins, grave faced men with skin like parchment all wrinkled and deeply lined…but with the innocence of childhood I their eyes combined with the maturity of a lifetime… their unhurried movements and the smooth way they glided across the ground…effortlessly plodding on to unknown destinations… miles of walk… I could connect with them without language, without gestures, with just a look and felt warm cherished and loved. Simple people with simple lives…no need to give freely to me, yet freely they did give their love and in return got mine. How strange for all this to happen to me in that short 40 day spell… a slip of a girl was I…barely fledged and scared at the magnitude of the emotions I was feeling till I looked into the mirror and saw a face so young with eyes so old…perplexed I looked away to see the world.
To me it was all a love beyond a love…a celebration of humanity, just a smile and nothing more and yet the whole world.
And so I moved on to newer places as I cynically smiled to myself mocking myself and the way my senses were playing tricks with me…brawny yaks, a and their chiming bells, the curly horned sure- footed sheep climbing steadily up the mountainsides in search of scraps of grass, the chiru, and the silver bellied trout that comes home every year to spawn…HOME!!! I’ve stopped thinking and only feel now… lest I go mad with the thousand and one deja vus I am getting.
The soft bloom on the fresh peaches, dewy red cherries, lush apricots…well just then reality bit …vegetables came at a certain price-Rs50 per kilo of onions or potatoes or a chicken for 300 bucks…I think after a month or two one would be reduced to consuming the local fare at this rate. Thankfully we were putting up in an army establishment that took care of all our requirements so we only needed to supplement our diet with fruit. The rest all came out of tins. I was eternally grateful for the forethought that made me buy my huge stock of chocolates.


I must mention something about the queer burial rituals of the local people…without which my account would be incomplete. Like most Hindus the ladakhis cremate their dead, but unlike the usual funeral pyre they construct mud ovens (what I called tandoors) around the dead person who was conveniently made to sit and then lit under him. Afterwords when it would all be over, by that I mean when the body is reduced to cinders they seal the top and white wash the exterior structure. Numerous such structures dotted the countryside and I once posed for a picture leaning nonchalantly against one, till I came to know the significance.


My visit to Choglamsar, the Leh City Palace, Thikse, Hemis, Zanskar and Pangong Tso Lake were all filled with color, history and beautiful breathtaking scenery. But such heavy dollops of culture began to pall until one day I struck gold once again in the Hemis Monastery that houses the statue of the reclining Buddha made in gold and of immense proportions.
Also that monastery contained priceless murals and frescoes of the tirthankaras. At that tie the next reincarnation of the lord Buddha was to be born in some quaint village in Tibet and the monks the world over were preparing for that great day and offering prayers to the gods. The atmosphere was redolent with incense, smoke and strange chants in a foreign language. But the spirit was the same … that of prayer, of peace, of solitude, of sanctity…

And out of that smoke a young priest beckoned to me and motioned me to go before a priest sitting in the dim recess of the rear end of the monastery’s main hall. Dad and I went forward and with some degree of trepidation I walked closer. But the monk smiled kindly and extremely lovingly as though he understood my fears and was amused by them. That calmed me instantly. He had the most powerful stare I have ever encountered, one from which I couldn’t pull away, deep brown eyes that shone with some kind of inner radiance…

He touched the top of my head and my right palm and said something in a language indecipherable to me … but the message was clear…blessed me …and sure enough much to my surprise the young monk confirmed it in English. He also mentioned a few things I don’t need to mention here, but which have ever since perturbed me…mentioned having as long wait…and having lost something…things at time I never knew and still I don’t… maybe he meant I will loose my faith and get it back again…maybe he understood my quest for peace …something I had just discovered to my surprise …
What caught and wove a web around me was the quality of his smile and a strange look in his eyes…maybe I misinterpreted it… but it almost seemed like respect, and reverence and even saying such things seems arrogance to me and sheer sacrilege… but maybe, maybe I was wrong just that time… it was the look of an equal given to an equal…not man to woman not father to daughter not any gender but equal to equal.

A certain peace descended on me and I moved away from him like in a trance and walked back into the bright sunshine… a changed person yet the same. I must acknowledge the fact that that was the day I started acknowledging my restlessness…28th June 1994.
Someday I will go back again and just relive that moment of perfect communion between us… don’t know if he will recognize me or if I will recognize him for that matter…I don’t even know his name…just a nameless faceless monk whose essence I’m sure will be still be there like those who lived before him.

The rest of the trip was a mixture of unforgettable and forgettable beauty, campfires, impromptu parties, fairy lights, dancing under the stars, food, fun frolic, donkey and mule rides. White water rafting, and other adventure sports, plain good old trekking and rock climbing…
But all this one can get anywhere. To sum up what Ladakh gave me was the essence of purity, tranquility, peace, freedom, and of course the real me…on the other side it awakened my senses and made me go wild with a frenzy of thoughts questions and pure unrest…
So much packed in so few days…40 to be exact…

A lifetime I plan to relive someday with the one I will share my soul with…if God is kind
And Destiny wills it…till then it’s a wait…long wait as he said…

THE DRENCHED SPIRIT

A growing lassitude in my limbs
Heralds the approach of sleep
Oh! How blissful sleep is
The sleep of the just, the sleep of the tired
Of those who deserve it…. earn it…

And as I lie on this patch of grass
Each blade supporting my body
Strong as steel
And yet, fragile in itself…

I feel the first drops of rain
Splatter on my face…
Two gentle drops of water
As pure as fresh dew
Bearing the corrosiveness of acid
Harsh reality, stinging, slapping me back to reality
Product of the deep bosom of the skies

I look up…patiently expectant
A resigned supplicant
For God to reward me
My body recumbent and at peace as never was…
Two more fall
And then two more
Then more…
And then as though the test is o’er and I have reached my destination
The floodgates open
Upon my upturned face
Oh! What a glorious feeling
Naked yet fully clothed
I lie forgetful of al else
But the rain and me…
One embracing the other…
Rejoicing, quenching and being quenched…
Dry land sizzling merrily under its onslaught.

All so washed clean
Sparkling with divine purity.
Just then I felt that with
Those drops of rain
I had been blessed with the same cleanliness
All bitterness, all torture
All pain…. I let drain
Body and soul rejuvenated
One with the elements
I lie there barely breathing…
And dared them to take me, destroy me
But they never did…

Never could fathom Aphrodite
And her mysterious rites
Of her tryst with the foamy waves
That obsession to be clean
Chaste
And her sublime faith in the seas – that water
Till I got caressed, washed
Healed by the soft rain
Its benign hands gently
Rubbed out the creases form my brow
And teased the smile back again…

For hours I lay there
Yet, felt like but a few minutes…
Then memory struck again
“A thousand ages in Thy sight
Are but like an evening gone…”
And then I realized, not surprised
With calm acceptance
The distance
I made, those walls I erected
Was all my own creation
Ones I could just wash away
With the rain of my eyes.

From that moment dawned
A new hope
A new twinkle
A new smile
Oh! How foolish that I had to wait all this while
And just then God smiled
In affirmation
All glorious green, mauve and vermilion
Not only for me
But for all to see
That ever present promise
A continued sojourn
And a bright new morn…

MUST WE KNOW?

Must we know what everything means?
The smell of a rose
The murmur of a stream?
Or the light of the stars
Or the hush of the night?

Must we try and explain the song that lingers?
Or the thrill that leaps to the tips of our fingers
When our hand is clasped in the hand of a friend?

Must we try and fathom the depths of love
Something so divine
So uncontrollable, so sublime?
Just a thought conveyed
Through a look
And not a word spared?
And life is changed from that hour to its end?

For me it’s enough to say
That something beautiful passed my way…

JOY AND SORROW --TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN ........OR THE SAME COIN??

“Your sorrow is your joy unmasked
And the self same well from which your laughter arises
Was oftimes filled with your tears
And how else can it be?”

-KHALIL GIBRAN
Profound words so true to the trajectory of life wherein one thing is so linked with the other in seamless communion. Isn’t birth and death related where the birth of one period or phase of life the death of another. How our time in the womb marks the beginning of a new journey into the unknown.
Similarly one would think that all things that are the antithesis of the other are actually nothing but the reverse reflection of the other…
For example if we say---
“ I hate lies.”
It is not the presence of falsehoods that you hate but the absence of truths you hate.
Something that most CAT aspirants study under the very intriguing yet difficult topic of CONDITIONALITIES in logical reasoning.
Elimination of bias is the most difficult thing in life.
If A occurs then B will not
Aà~B
The reverse implication is
Bà~A however it is not necessary that Bà~A

Without much circumvention I’d say that the obsession we have with joy and sorrow is the reflection of joy itself.
And nature has given us the most beautiful and effective answer. Something we will only recognize if we care to listen without bias.
Its simple…
TEARS
Why do tears roll down when we laugh really hard? Tears are generally associated with sorrows right? But when joy in its purest form is experienced we tend to get lachrymose. This is simple like love and hate joy and sorrow also happen to be mirror and water images of each other. The same object of love attracts censure from us in absence of its ideal. While the joys within themselves hide sorrow at their imminent loss. Yes I say imminent because everything is transitory in this world. What comes must go what rises must sink. And each realization is buried deep into the realms of our psyche called aptly the
“I”
One alphabet in the English language that happens to give the same mirror image and water image.

THE IMPORTANCE OF ----NOW!!!!

Omar Khayyam said in Rubaiyat, “the moving finger writes and having writ moves on; nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all your tears wash out a word of it.”
No regret, no penance will recreate your past differently. Reliving the past is an exercise in futility and foolishness. The future does not exist yet. To create the future is speculative. You do not even know whether you will breathe your next breath. What arrogance, therefore, to think of creating your future.
Again another fallacy is that we learn from our past mistakes and move on without making the same ones again and again…what a fool’s paradise we live in…
What really matters is the present, our present which we often put at risk by delving into to the past or trying to decipher a future we have never seen or never will.
Hence my friends to gain control over ourselves and become true masters of our destiny what we need is to focus on our present.
The greatest and of course the toughest achievement is to do what we do at a particular time and only do that not think of anything else…
That way we sleep when we sleep
And work when we work
And not like we usually think about something else during work.
Hence our powers of concentration are well honed and we do whatever we do perfectly. Which again leads to satisfaction with our present, as we all know many presents make our past and the seed of the future lies in the present. So try to think about your present neither past nor future…
Invariably when u concentrate on your present you’ll notice that the future is secure and the past doesn’t hurt any longer.

THE ULTIMATE GOAL

What do I desire most???
Freedom? Peace? Love? Lucre? Fame? Fortune? Beauty? The list is endless almost as long as the realms of this universe…………….but the guiding factors are essentially the same………….the satisfaction of the self or the desire to define find and carve the self as per our personal ideal.
What is the personal ideal? Do they vary according to our personal idiosyncrasies and temperamental differences or abide by a uniform TYPE, since we all are essentially made from the same mould?
Believe me my friends these are questions all of us have asked ourselves at some point of time in our lives, and looked for the answers most often unsuccessfully…

Today I’ve come here with a purpose that was predestined to happen and which the universe has conspired to make happen.
What is the purpose of my being?
I, you and every individual is a part of the ever rolling order of events that enable us to partake of the magic and beauty of life both in this transient world as well as the other world.

It’s the chosen few who are lucky enough to experience this. And in being lucky we have to make sure that we justify and judiciously utilize this opportunity.
We have to power to make our mark in life and must not allow………

“Time like an ever rolling stream
Bears all its sons away
They fly forgotten, as a dream
Dies at the opening day.”

Some like Shakespeare, Michelangelo, Mozart and Davinci live on through their art, which was an expression of their freedom or probably the best way they could express their passionate intensities.
But does one have to be a Nadia, an Abraham Lincoln a mother Teresa or a Gandhi to acquire that freedom.
What makes perfectly ordinary men and women rise above the ashes of materialism like the phoenix, gain stature of awesome proportions and in the bargain our respect?
Aren’t we all capable of such feats or have we laid and defined mental boundaries which have clipped our wings.
There is a Jonathan Livingston Seagull in each one of us.
It’s only for us to find him and nurture him.

Abraham Maslow and his theory of the hierarchy of needs will hold immense favour with the rational individuals of this world who feel the need to clinically dissect a problem and then define solutions.
He ranked our needs as individuals in the increasing order of “urgency”.
First the basic needs of an individual need to be satisfied before he can think of anything else.

Basic needs are physiological needs, safetly needs, belongingness needs, and esteem needs (it is the feeling of moving up in the world, wanting recognition and having few doubts about oneself).
Higher order needs are Cognitive needs (like learning for the purpose of learning alone), aesthetic needs (at peace, more curious about the working of things), Self-actualization needs (knowing exactly who you are, where you are going and what you want to accomplish-a state of well -being) and finally, Self Transcendence (visionary intuition, altruism and so on).
Our societies are still deeply entrenched in the warp of the basic needs .I’m not saying that we skip the lower order needs and straight away take a giant leap to the self-actualization phase.

No! That’s not humanly possible. Or even if it were I wouldn’t think that would justify our existence. We are meant to be here to discharge our earthly duties as best as we can. Fulfill our needs and obligations. Personally I rather admire a person who is discharges his worldly duties loves lives and goes through all the stages of life with the dream of self actualization, towards which he is working continuously rather that one who isolates himself from the world and all it holds.
I’d rather weep, laugh, sing, dance, love, hate, and feel a multitude of all those emotions that celebrate my being a human. But more importantly when I walk through the sands of time I want to ensure that I have been instrumental in the attainment of that eternal goal for others too.

One doesn’t need to be Christ or Buddha to attain freedom. We can each find it in the obscurity of our mundane day to day lives. The real problem is…….
Are we ready to open our eyes and look at what so obviously stares at us?

ARE WE TERRORISTS TOO

“On 7th July 2005,four bomb blasts occurred in central London. Within a span of 50 seconds, bombs exploded on three tubes just outside the Liverpool Street, Edgware Road and Kings Cross stations at 0850 BST just as the morning rush hour drew to a close. After around one hour, another explosion ripped off a packed 30 double-decker bus in Tavistock Square.
Subsequent investigations revealed the involvement of four Britons who had led clean ordinary lives…………
Numerous are such deplorable acts of terror vehemently denounced by all nations and communities alike. Nothing can be as shameful as this wanton and wasteful loss of life.
But what about the lives of the so-called ‘terrorists’ who more often than not are the obscure victims of more heinous crimes committed by the state under the garb of pseudo justice.

DON’T THEY HAVE HUMAN RIGHTS?
The US defines terrorism as “the unlawful use or threat of violence against persons or property to further political objectives. It is usually intended to intimidate or coerce governments, individuals or groups to modify their behavior or politics. Terrorists often use terrorism as a weapon, because they believe that as a group they are too small to confront the ‘enemy’ in an open battle; so a planned, systematic, long term campaign of terror carried out by a small disciplined force could be more effective political weapon.”
The above definition alludes to the ineffectuality of the direct approach that could be an option exercised by the terrorists. However in most cases they choose not to exercise it for fear of direct extermination and failure of redressal of their grievances.
We shy away from the fact that even terrorists are human beings and equal contenders for human rights.
Human rights are natural rights which one gets by virtue of being human. They are equal rights irrespective of any distinctions of caste creed sex or simple parochial insularity.
One might say that my objectivity in this sphere is clinical due to non-involvement in any kind of personal loss.
Here I can easily digress from the main issue into narrow by lanes that will cloud my vision.
It’s easy to let your judgment be fogged by patriotic and human sentiment and a palpable sense of anger, helplessness directed at the hapless victims of the pseudo religious fanatic elements of our society.
Who is to decide the fate of these terrorists? Are there to be differential degrees of judgments for them depending on the kind of crime? Who assesses the nature of their crimes and accords punishment? What are the parameters for these convictions?
The police?
The state —Which is always on the lookout for scapegoats to consolidate their position in the play of politics?
Can Timothy Mcveigh and Abu Salem be compared to Jagdish Tytler or Sajjan Kumar?
Or is the government all too reluctant at opening up this Pandora’s box?
ARTICLE 5 of the UNITED NATIONS HUMAN RIGHTS declaration-“no one should be put through torture, or any other treatment or punishment that is cruel or makes the person less than human”
ARTICLE 11-“if you are blamed for the crime, you should be thought of as innocent until proven guilty.”
Perfectly rational and logical points of view that uphold the principles of humanity we are so proud of.
But horrorstricken most will say that terrorists are NOT HUMAN ….how can they be? When they are responsible for killing innocent people and disrupting public life or even damaging state machinery?
Radicalists would say ‘death demands death’as justice, while upholders of human rights might advocate justice through constitutional methods as a sop to their conscience.
But the end result would inevitably be the same…
Are we ready to take responsibility for the more severe, more heinous, more barbaric deed of deliberately perpetrating the deaths of so many people who by virtue of their deeds have lost the right to being called human?
I use the word death deliberately because loss of human dignity is as much a death for an individual as much is the electric chair or lethal injection…only far more painful and demeaning.
In retrospect if terrorists are the INHUMAN people who use weapons of destruction ………what would you term those who produce those weapons?
Or those who use those same weapons in politically and militarily backed action?
Can we absolve ourselves of our role in this human carnage?
Will Guatenamo be buried under a pile of bureaucratic morass?
Are we terrorists too?

A FAVE POEM OF MINE

DESIDERATA
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible,without surrender,

Be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to the dull and ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If u compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans .
Keep interested in your career,
however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many people strive for high ideals
and everywhere life is full of heroism .

Be yourself Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perrenial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
but do not distress yourself with imaginings.

Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
No less than the trees and the stars and you have a right to be here.

And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive him to be.

And whatever your labours and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham , drudgery and broken dreams ,
it is still a beautiful world .
Be cheerful.
strive to be happy and then u'll see the true meaning of life is in living....

A VALEDICTION

Today I got news of my uncle Des taking suddenly ill…
A man who has always been on the go, who has instilled a zest for living and loving in all around him.
A man worth his weight in gold, a man of integrity and character with penetrating mesmerizing eyes so characteristic to Scorpios…that look deep into your soul and plumb their depths………..the one man till date who has really understood and read me like plate glass…
A man who thought I am extremely precious…. to him and to HIM…
MY GODFATHER, MY MENTOR AND MY FRIEND.
THE MAN WHO HELD ME IN HIS ARMS WHEN I WAS A BABE AND LENT A SHOULDER THROUGH THE PERIOD OF MY TEEN ACHES …WHEN MY SOUL WAS IN TURMOIL AND NEEDED SOME COMFORT…………
Today when he lies sick on a hospital bed I wonder at the mortality of us humans….
This transient state of being human…
Should we grab at all that we can get because we don’t know what tomorrow holds for us?
Or toil selflessly, living for others in the hope of achieving Nirvana or Elysium?
What’s the objective of our life?
If you sift through what the WISE have said till now -----all one sees is the idealistic concepts of a life after this one…. but no one has actually confirmed it…some may say my faith is in the doldrums and reflective of the turmoil within…. but the fact is I’m not questioning the so called ideals of society and religion…
These doubts are just a natural extension of my inquisitive and logical being…………
People say that one cant reason out faith. History bears witness to the ongoing conflict between science and religion where sometimes one is the victor and at other times the other…
Let us not digress into the obscure realms of the religo-scientific conflict….
But examine the more pressing and important problem of evaluation of our existence……….even while im penning these words im aware that somewhere right now my uncle is struggling for that ounce of precious air. I am not dispassionate about death……….
But have a heavy conscience too about why I love him so much???
Is it because I love him dearly or what he represents in my life???
Am I selfish???
When someone dear and near to us falls sick or dies. …………Tears instantly pour down our faces…………..
But more often than not they are for the imminent loss. …Or because we cannot envisage life without that person……………our souls cry out in outrage at the injustice of God and our helplessness.
Life was never so barren…………
IVE JUST RECEIVED NEWS –MY UNCLE HAS PASSED AWAY
A tiny fragment of my soul dies with him today…and as he passes from this world to the other …………….I pray for his soul not my agony…because I believe God has a message and motive in every pain he inflicts on us……….and I gladly and willingly accept HIS will.
And when it will rain I’ll always feel his love falling on me, or his touch in the mist that shrouds me in winter, or the warmth of his love in the sunshine………….

THE THEORY OF BEING

THE SKY: is a vast expanse of blue so real none could deny its existence .Yet in reality, it is nothing but illusion.
THE HORIZON: is always in sight. Yet, the closer to it one gets, the farther away it recedes.
YOUR IMAGE IN THE MIRROR: is that as you are. Yet are “you” that image?


I’m told man is a rational being. So he tries to rationalize everything. Pieces of information, bits of data experiments, inferences, and deductions…derive them all and cubbyholes them into tidy packages, neatly and chronologically “preserved for posterity”.

On the flip side what about the inexplicable?? OOPS we have a very convenient prefix for such bizarre phenomenon-EXTRA
(Lexically explained as outside or beyond.)
Strange when I was a child I was fired to bouts of zealous confidence having its roots in the adage “THE SKY IS THE LIMIT”
Of course man's natural inquisitiveness (nosyness) has proved that wrong with the numerous explorations into the outer space be it that of the universe literally or the realms of medicine, art, trade or any other field.
Now I presume the modern age mantra is “THE SKY IS NOT THE LIMIT”.
Getting back to man and his ‘marauding acquisitive nature’
.I find it hillarious in the extreme when people say…… “We are the descendants of Adam and Eve”. At the cost of blaspheming I'd say we are probably the descendants of Lucifer especially since we both share in the sin of trying to wrest the power of the universe form the hands of the Almighty.
(Paradoxically ive used the. Er……… term Almighty because this is one supernatural force man has unfortunately been able to label, cubbyhole, decipher, compartmentalize………………….)
Isn’t meddling with nature, writing the destinies of men through wars and wantonly destroying life tantamount to that…not to mention the colossal magnitude of moral degradation that plagues our society………
Can one ever RATIONALIZE LIFE?
Questions that have huge chicken and egg kind of philosophical implications will always continue to boggle the minds of people even or Einstein like proportions.
For example---------can you explain why?
I don’t need to study home science to be a good homemaker.

Why alternative systems of medicine and practices of yoga are gaining increasing importance in otherwise more scientific societies. (Most probably for its fashion appeal.
Why didn’t people use these methods before!!!!
If I’m not mistaken the date back to the Vedic era??? But it took good old America and the demonstration effect to bring the benefits of Yoga and Neem back to India.)

If we could explain the Abraham Lincolns, Shakespeares,and Dhirubhais of the yesteryears……..there would probably be no X-Files and more mutant-X’…….
And a booming clone market selling coveted genetically modified (j)Genes over the counter…rather that the so talked about IT industry.

I think we owe it to ourselves to stop dissecting and bisecting the marvels of this world and try to enjoy things as they are………
Lets just take times from our busy schedules to “stand and stare” at what Wordsworth or Browning once rhapsodized about and still continue to in the numerous books that continue to be published…
It’s a sign, which says that the world is not yet cynical about the marvels of BEING. That Jehovah still exists and will continue to be the guiding force behind out mysterious existence.
I BELIEVE IN IT AND HOPE SOME DAY THE WORLD WILL TOO.

CENSORED

Disclaimer: the under mentioned script is a fictitious work. Viewer discretion is advised. Management hardcores are advised not to read…lest they bust an artery!




Mighty audacity on my part—
“ BRAND-a name, term, sign, symbol, or design, or a combination of both of them, intended to identify the goods or services of one seller or group of sellers and to differentiate them form those of competitors.”
The sacrosanct word from the so-called bible of marketing by Philip Kotler.Not being irreverent about the great man by any chance. But to whoever is interested the article I write now is inspired by the incompleteness of this definition and more so by a thought that has been in my mind for quite sometime…. why do we need to study Kotler or any such book…. to become cookie cuts? . After all the roadside pheriwala didn’t attend Harvard…nor did Dhirubhai.Kotler hasn’t perfected the art of converting nuances into definition. But then so haven’t half the other population who faithfully “walk the walk”.

What is a brand?

As per definition it’s the “goods or services” ---some clarification here please…. anything can be a brand and everything can be branded within the concept of time and space. a city is a brand and so is a state.Jaipur-the pink city and New York- the Big Apple spring to mind. By positioning itself as “God’s own country”, Kerela manages to draw numerous tourists. It’s new plank “god’s E-state” appeals to the genre of computer literates. A person is a brand which is evident from the different facets of identity being communicated-Warren Buffet is synonymous with Berkshire Hathaway and the world of risky investments…Bill Gates the guru of technology, Sonia Gandhi the new face of Congress and stability, Aung San Sui Ki with freedom ,and MF Hussein with controversy.
Even Michelangelo and Van Gough are brands. However as Kolter says the branding paradigm can be extended to an organization, a service, events, educational institutes, retail outlets, and even cartoon characters. Similarly successful commodities can become brands if we follow the basic tenets of branding.

Offering of astronhg brand is HIGH QUALITY. Be it a product or service or a combination of both
A brand must have strong aspirational connotations. Like people go for brands like Levi, Nike, Ray Ban, and Coke for their individual merits as well because they represent youthfulness, modernity and individuality.
Strong brand must command premium over other competition.
A strong brand should be able to elicit trust within its customer base. The best example being the TATA steel which despite market volatility has never been dethroned form its position of king in steels.
A strong brand must have a “halo effect”. This is seen in brand leaders that have numerous positive qualities. They override beyond product or service. Takes a lot of work to create this kind of good will in the market…TATA synonymous with trust, pioneering effects, fairplay.also associating a brand with a social and philanthropic cause gives a brand a feel good quality. (Interesting in respect are the aggressive marketing tactics of ITC…which happens to be a tobacco company. right from the change of name to launch of its Wills Sportswear and the sponsoring of a number of charity and sports related events)

To conclude ill leave you with a question is there anything in this article that you didn’t know before? Yes my friend and you haven’t even read kotler yet…management is firstly and lastly experience and awareness…not a jargon juggernaut. I admit I have a long long way to go before I could take the bull by the horns. But at least I have made a start…keeping all my options open and my mind clear of all preconceived notions…
Nothing like a healthy does of creative thinking to titillate your intellectual capacities…