Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label stupidity. Show all posts

Sunday, October 31, 2010

Stop playing dice with paradise!

By all accounts, J&K has become a nerve-wrecking problem for all the stakeholders in that region right from the Kashmiris themselves to the mechanical arrangements that involves India and Pakistan in this long and complex arena of conflicts, apathy, pathos and despair.

It’d be very lucid to say anything about ‘K’ without addressing the evolution of this state. Kashmir has been a lingering issue that should have been resolved way back. I agree India has failed Kashmir. Pakistan too has. They have failed to address people’s concerns. It has rather become fashionable to speak over the ownership rights of this disputed land. Grandiosity from both side of the border steals the limelight while addressing people directly takes a back burner. No wonder, empty rhetoric is what is left on the table.

When the British finally decided to relinquish the Indian subcontinent, they were discussing about how the future state/s would take place. Various ideas right from creation of nations on the basis of language, basic culture, region & religion emerged. Of all the factors, religion became the ultimate criterion.

Though the Indian subcontinent boasted of nearly all-existing world religions right from the Indic beliefs of Hinduism, Jainism, Buddhism & Sikhism to Abrahamic yet Indianised versions of Islam, Christianity & Judaism as well. Considering social passions, it was decided to include Islam and ‘the rest’ as primary dividing factors and thus, the modern states of multi-religious India and largely Muslim Pakistan got created.

But some regions became a thorn for resolution, primarily, the princely state of Jammu & Kashmir. Kashmir being a Muslim majority area was claimed by Pakistan for obvious reasons whereas India’s claims rested on ‘accession’ agreement signed between the Maharaja of J&K and the Indian government. It also needs to be pointed that though Pakistan was proclaiming itself as the homeland for sub-continental Muslims, even then, the modern partitioned India had more Muslims in entirety than Pakistan.

Also, Pakistan’s convictions further deteriorated when its eastern wing got separated to form the present independent nation of Bangladesh. The struggle for independent B’desh from united ‘Islamic Republic of Pakistan’ was on linguistic basis and not religion as cornerstone. It somehow proved that religion couldn’t always be a cohesive factor.

Now coming back to ‘K’.

More than 60 years have died giving birth to this problem as it is, and still we are running in political circles. People who’ve been following Kashmir can easily vouch for the fact that not all is well in paradise. Sadly, it is burning. And I suppose people with a benevolent heart and mind would feel pained to witness their agony and would like to see an end to their sufferings. Kashmiris themselves are tired and are demanding ‘Azaadi’. ‘Azaadi’ from the daily humiliation they go through and ‘Azaadi’ to live in a functional society with pristine atmosphere. After all, it’s a basic right for every breathing human being.

No one likes Army or, for that matter, any non-civilian body interrupting daily course of life, and that too on a weak hint of suspicion. And it’s a naked secret that defense forces have used coercion and violation at a drop of hat.

Having said that, playing devil’s advocate, what I don’t understand about voices coming from the Valley with statements such as “Kashmiri society and Indian society are different” and that “Kashmiri culture and Indian culture varies”.

My questions are - What is Indian culture? Can anyone define Indian culture? Is India too homogenous to assimilate Kashmir influence within its society and national frame? Can you identify any single aspect (say language/religion/culture) and declare it’s truly Indian and rest as not?

On the contrary, Indian society is a vast and diverse phenomenon. India’s diversity is capable of holding variety of interests and ideas even when conflicting each other eventually leading to broad based assimilation. Can’t beautiful Kashmir fit into exotic India? Don’t you think of all the existing options for Kashmir its continuance, as part of India would be a crown for its own welfare as well as for an idea called India?

Normality must return to Valley, at the earnest. We all agree. But what after that? A permanent solution must yield taking all the relevant factors into consideration. People who have long reneged on their Kashmiri identity in favor of power should keep their mouth shut and mind open. They are misleading the masses into false utopian beliefs. It will be nothing more than a farce and eventually too late to reconcile with truth. Arrogant Army powers must be severely amended, if not repealed completely. Crime is a crime and that applies to everyone. Shopian rape case showed how fragile the judiciary is in J&K. The culprits were not held accountable for their misdeeds. It was blindfolded Themis that went to trial and acrimoniously disrobed. Events as such shouldn’t be allowed to repeat.

And yes, there is an undeniable gap between mainland Indians and people in the northernmost state. Lack of communication has been a huge deterrent. Tourism in J&K, which helped a lot in fostering economy, goodwill and camaraderie was, no wonder, attacked by the secessionist/terrorist elements. As long as people-to-people connect is absent, all other efforts will only be on paper. If we want to call a country with 28 states, then we better not act like a 27 states nation. Interestingly, Bollywood of the past glorified Kashmir as a tourist destination, but today, even it prefers Swiss Alps.

My post here reeks of parochialism and I can’t do anything about it for a very simple reason: I am an Indian. My nation was built on common aspirations, common dreams and a search for common identity. We weren’t forced to shout “I am an Indian” at any point of time. The sense of Indianness trickles from our heart no matter whichever state we belong to or whatever tongue we speak. Yes, we are facing problems in the form of poverty, Naxalism, corruption and whatnot but talking of secession of Kashmir, I don’t think it helps the case.

India has a timeless history of tolerance. Even today, we tolerate a lot. But frankly, toleration of sedition is one thing and secession, another. We don’t have to look weak. All we have to do is be right and right now, we are far from right. We are in the middle of somewhere.

Prosperous Jammu & Kashmir, Progressive India and South Asian haleness should be the ultimate aim.

Monday, May 10, 2010

Blowing out the 24th Candle!

Birthday is supposed to be a huge affair, be it yours or your dog's, for the simple reason that it doesn't repeat itself for more than once in a year. I'm not talking about those "leap year kids" who wait a bit too long for their next birthday to celebrate!

Well, talking of myself, I completed 24 years yesterday, on May 9th, 2010. Its like saying I accomplished 24 free trips around the sun. There's definitely a good feeling to have survived this long, with a bit of amnesia and growing grey hairs to count for. One more year and boom, quarter of allotted 100 years are gone. But who lives for a 100 year now-a-days except for some Japs and MF Hussain look-alikes.

There is some legend attached to my birthday and like all other legends, this one too, does not precede me. I was born on the very same day Tenzing Norgay died. He died during daytime and I was born by night. He was the first human being EVER to climb to the toppest tip on the face of our planet. He kissed Mt. Everest, poetically speaking. He climbed to the top and I'm digging deepest to the core!

Other than melancholy perception towards life, I believe these years I had were the best for any breathing soul out there. Though I sound pessimistic and dark on my Facebook statuses and Twitter tweets, but deep down I know I was one lucky bugger who got to do things the way he like, no matter how unappetizing it turned out in the end.

On a softer note, my bro and ma gifted me a nice piece of Fastrack watch, knowing perfectly well that I don't wear watches. But it was a failed attempt on their side and almost ruined the day for all of us! I kissed her Happy Mother's Day and made peace. As far as bro goes, I don't give much wind!

For the coming years, I want to be more responsible. I kept running away from my responsibilities and believed running is good for my health! I don't want to make the same old excuses. I want to try some new ones too. I concur that I'm terribly self-obsessed but frankly, I do realize that. But my only wish is to be remembered as that boy who never failed to laugh in spite of harboring heavy-duty mouth ulcers!

Maybe its time to think about life. Maybe its time to look out for that old-fashioned girl who is crazy enough to fall in love with me. Maybe its time to put a stop to all this absurdity called 'liberation from societal norm'. Maybe its time to just SHUT UP!

Saturday, April 10, 2010

If death kisses me goodbye!

Whenever I talk about death, people think I'm being naive but in reality I'm just being futuristic! Now is that bad thing? No.

I keep thinking of death as if I’m older than I already am. I'm 23 but I feel like "world oldest 23 year old" so no wonder I can’t escape the question of how and when I'll be seeing my end. I believe life is unpredictable but death is totally unsustainable. It has this overpowering clout over restless heart.

Now what will happen if I die (either by train, road, freak accidents or whatever) today or tomorrow or day after tomorrow????

I guess the biggest change will be on my most visited Internet websites. I say so considering all the other deeds I've done in my life span. I don’t think anything comes close to the kind of passion I have for “virtual world” which in fact, seems more genuine than the real world I breathe in. If I overlook my failures being a loser that I am, I guess Internet has been a super-duper success for me. I have a voice on Internet pages and I don’t care whether it’s heard or not!

Once I’m dead, the first change will be noticed on my Twitter timeline! There won’t be any updates about what I’m thinking. The timeline will just pause. It won’t move ahead, just like that. No more sharing of stupid ideas passed off as wisdom or office-bashing lines or #JustSaying tweets or news-related links. Secondly my Facebook page will face the same calamity. I don’t know how my friends will react to this because they will be having no idea that I’m in hell waiting for them!

Talking of my virtual world friends, I guess they will be left in the lurch of ignorance as there won’t be any worldwide networking of the news of my departure. It would be as silent as it was before I entered the Internet age and found myself a comfortable space among these wonderful people (or tweeple as we call them now) I love to interact with. But then, I think they’ll give up on me. It is inevitable. My Internet pals in NYC or Romania or Pakistan won’t come looking for me in Mumbai once I stopped tweeting or social networking!

I also wonder about the kind of effort I put in on updating my Twitter 140-space, Facebook profile. I mean, no one will do that for me once I’m gone. I also worry about my Twitter handle, I mean, who will take care of that?!! And also what will happen to this devil-forsaken blog which is overwhelmingly forgettable, at best!

I know these are all speculations but it’s worthy. I don’t count my family here. That’s due to the fact that they are not as dysfunctional as I would like them to be. You have to be on either end of the extremes to be mentioned in my blog! Ah! So they better be left out of my foretasted death scenario.

On the other side, I just love my life on Twitter, Facebook and blogspot, not to mention several other sites where I regularly contribute my time. I’m an Internet addict, if that’s what you are pondering as of now and I wish to be this way till sanity (or death...whichever comes first) takes over!

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Why am I not blogging?

Maintaining a blog has got its share of problems too. And the biggest problem is UPDATING it regularly.

I find it really hard to sit down and write a post and update it on a periodic basis. No wonder that I’ve got like 60 or so posts in the last 4 years or so. It’s a funny feeling to have thousands of ideas and wishing to write a piece on it ASAP but going blank as soon as you punch the keys.

One more thing, I don’t understand why I bother to blog. I mean, I hardly have any attachment left with this thing. It’s a stupid blog after all. No one cares. Not even me. For a long while I was the only one who was reading my blog and now I’ve got like 25 people or so who at least have blog-rolled me (out of sympathy!) but am pretty sure that they are happy that I don’t update my nonsensical posts! Sigh.

Right now, the most important thing in my life is Twitter and tweeting my stupid thoughts and concerns on my timeline is indispensable. Its like a passion I guess. Amazing. I wish I was passionate about blogging too. Like I once read somewhere that Ruskin Bond dedicates certain part of his day to writing and nothing else and I started wondering how does he do that and that too on a daily basis. Maybe that's why he's a writer and I'm a struggling writer!

I’m even amused by Kushwant Singh’s age-defying touch with pen (he's averse to modern technologies like Computer!). This guy is 95 and never fails to write what he feels strongly about. He used to fantasize about Indira years ago and now he does the same with Mandira!

My point is, why am I not doing something which could have been my profession. I always wanted to write but I guess the idea of passivity and procrastination grew up on me. Sadly, that is.

Anyways, I guess I’ve fulfilled my intention here. Just updated my newest post with whatever Bullshit I could manage! Hahahahahahahaa

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Smokin Pooja at Home

Hinduism, to me, is the most liberal form of religion NEVER invented! I don't wish to sound religious here coz I'm NOT, no matter how much my amma wants me to be! I'm posting these pics as I haven't done a lot of photography since the bike trip.

Anyways, we had "Satya Narayan Pooja" at our place and for that occasion, the interior walls were all colored up and the house looked cleaner than it does during Diwali season!

It all started with this "rangoli" that was completed by the pandit in less than 5 mins top! Awesome job indeed!
The Holy Fire he created to destroy the "negative forces" by burning up their eyes (and ours as well while he was at it!)
Holy Smoke fills up the house, and then even moves outside towards the stairs!
This sparrow was nowhere to be seen once the Holy Smoke covered the floor! LOL
This is an old Indian tradition in which boiling milk is allowed to lap over the utensil, as a sign of completion of Pooja!
The last remnants of "Holy Smoke" captured on camera!
That's my cousin's kid and he wanted to wear a "peta" so my bro made him one from towel!
That is my giant younger brother Sai who doesn't need crane to help him!
That is me in my traditional mundu/vyesthi gleaming with my stupidest grin!

Saturday, September 26, 2009

Shashi Tharoor Twittered!

We, Indians, have this way with emotions that is quite unique in all aspects of understanding. It’s difficult to decipher when and how we’ll be offended. It has something to do with our DNA that defines us the way we are and the funny thing is that we are absolutely OKAY with it. I guess there must be a strong reason behind this whole panorama, to say the least. But for the time being, let the sleeping devil lie!

I have no issue with us being Indians and acting all “Indian”, be it our choice of cinema, our music, way of life and humor but it gets on my nerve when I see our dear MEDIA trying to milk away on us. The recent episode of Shashi Tharoor (I’m sure you all know him; if not, then Google him. Its time you do) and his “tweeting” controversy (labeled Twittergate!!!), all scrutinized and condemned by the politicos and journos, tells us how much our so-called fourth estate needs a change of view, just for a change.


Well, Shashi Tharoor is not the everyday corrupt MP that India is so used to and he comes from an elite background and a career that glistens in his everyday life activities (Tweeter being one of them).

Tweeter is gumption in today’s world and I can’t exclude India from that world, even if it’s confined to just urban areas. It’s a kind of mini-blogging site where you can post message or sentence of 140 characters including the space and punctuations. In simpler words, it’s a craze of sort. Or else, how can we explain the presence of dignitaries like Barack Obama, Kevin Rudd and Gordon Brown, gleefully tweeting on it, and not to mention other famous and big shots like Oprah Winfrey, Ashton Kutcher, Jonathan Ross, Hugh Jackman and sports personalities like Andy Murray, Williams Sisters, Shaq O’Neal and Lance Armstrong. Some renowned Indians too have made their presence (read Tweets) felt on Twitter including Pritesh Nandy, Chetan Bhagat, Priyanka Chopra and Karan Johar but SHASHI THAROOR takes the cake with 231,635 followers, as of now.

Tharoor’s presence on Twitter definitely contributed to its success in India. He has this aura of success, achievement and definitely a missing demeanor that is the need of time. He is an able diplomat cum author cum human rights activist. His success in recent General Election in which he shook the stronghold of communist party in Thiruvananthapuram, his constituent now, is a breather for many. But one cardinal rule remains true to Shashi Tharoor: He is not a politician. And this ‘liability’ is what making the mountain of a mole in Tharoor’s case. But does he really need to be one to serve his beloved nation?

About a week or so ago, he was asked by a journalist on Twitter whether he too will travel in cattle class (a famous reference to anything crowded), in view of the recent austerity drive preached and ‘proposed to be practiced’ by the ruling party, Congress, to which Tharoor belongs. Since the question was asked in jest, he too answered in jest saying “absolutely, in cattle class out of solidarity with all our holy cows.”

Of course, he didn’t mean any offense considering the fact that he isn’t the kind who shies away from temple to prove his western outlook. But the way the media played the role of devil’s advocate was not only tiresome and clichéd but even haphazard in some sense. They encroached on his Twittering as if it was a crime of sort.

The media joke didn’t end there. It went on publish stories of how Tharoor was complaining about excessive workload that was backlogging on him due to his 6 days visit to Liberia and Ghana. Thankfully, Tharoor continued twittering about his visit in bright positivity on strengthening international relationships. The sad part was, when instead of covering the African visit, the media was busy pinning on Twittergate and its backlashes from opposition party demanding Tharoor’s resignation!!

Media just couldn’t overcome the hangover on that stupid joke that was supposed to be forgotten like our wise PM suggested. I’m glad our PM is a man to reckon with, not the usual fools we have up there.

I read Tharoor was supposedly asked to refrain from Twittering which I don’t think he adhered to, thus debunking the hogwash of our everyday newspapers and lot. He is a public servant and he needs to keep his personal perspective in check and I do agree with the required code of conduct but I don’t think you need to teach a guy who spent almost three decades as a diplomat in United Nations and had a Ph.D at the age of 22 and has authored more than ten books. His only crime was his sense of humor!

In a country where politicians are hardly looked up to, let alone followed, Tharoor is ray of hope for us or at least to me. I’ve been following him since long and I was thrilled with his appointment as a Minister in External Affairs. I’m active on Twitter too and follow Shashi Tharoor’s comments with zeal because he exudes this enigmatic charm that was absent in almost all of the past public servant, may be due to lack of Internet Age or maybe, plain lack of magnetism!

One thing is for sure, now, Mr. Tharoor must be well aware of Indian Media’s strong ambiguity when it comes to a guy who spent most of his life traveling around the world and settles down in India with a silver ticket to Parliament!!!!!

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Teaching Kids English!

For the past three years or so, I've been involved with teaching English to kids, mostly of eight to ten grades. Of course, teaching is a tougher job than studying and I can claim to have first hand knowledge of this adage. It all started when I failed in my second year degree examination in '06 and decided to "earn" while I waited for my sophomore exams! I thought it was a good idea then. I still do.


I love English. I just love this language. I'm better off being biased to it. Although I do believe that language must be confined to its basic job of transfer of ideas but there aren't many other languages that can match English in its malleable nuances. Knowing English and learning it is one thing while teaching it is something else. But when my former math tutor, Akbar Sir called me to ask whether I was ready to "impart" my grammar skills to some of his students, I readily accepted. I guess it was more of a need rather than any calculated move. I was at home killing time (and my parents' hopes for me becoming an Electronics engineer in future which I ultimately succeeded in killing!!) so I looked at this chance as a move out of home and saving me some vituperative comments from my adorable mom!

I remember it was the month of December and I was called at around 8 in the morning to this place which I'm quite familiar with as I had spend a huge part of my school day life there. I was directed to a room with a decent green-board (blackboard are passé) and about 40 kids sitting down on the floor with unassumingly curious eyes. I started my lesson with the line, "Kids, English is a tough language……" I don't remember much of what happened next but that line remains with me till date. Many things have changed since then. The class is now pronounced and established and called Akbar's Academy. But something didn't change. The students loved me I guess and that love has remained till date. Perhaps, I like to think that way, whether it's true or false as I've learnt that it's impossible to endear your style of teaching with all the kids attending. There are always some kids who miss the learning train. It's either my fault or theirs but it's painful because I get my pay whereas they don't get their marks.

I have been teaching this insanely beautiful language since then and if you ask me, I'm a lousy teacher, in fact, terrible but I must say it has been a heck of a ride for me. As of today, I teach 279 kids, divided in six batches and ranging from grade IX, X and XI. I hardly manage to remember not more than few dozens of names. It's not only taxing on my already stressed mind to ask names but also cruel to memorize it so I leave the name and go with the face. I only work on weekends with these kids and no doubt, weekends aren't a day of relish for me, as it is for my colleagues. Its tough handling two jobs!

I frequently ask myself whether it's for money or is it just a vocation that I dearly am attracted to. I don't get a straight answer. Its better that way; to have a sign of mystery to my purpose. There are times when I don’t wish to continue anymore and leave the job for good. There are times when the lack of energy to impose discipline overwhelms my discretion. I'm a disciplinarian but not the draconian kind. I expect my kids to be communicative but at the same time, I also want them to communicate with me, not their co-benchers. Asking students to observe silence and obedience is difficult but not entirely impossible.

Now coming to the English part, the kids I deal with represents a locality which is no more so a ghetto with middle-middle class locales with lower-middle class mentality at best. The people I'm talking about are ignorant about world news, don't care about civility, are bellicose in general and don't neither give a hoot about English nor watch English language news, shows or movies on TV and don't read English newspapers, magazines or periodicals. In spite of all these shortcomings, they are adamant about one thing; THEY WANT THEIR KIDS TO KNOW AND SPEAK ENGLISH!!

I won't say that this expectation is wrong or unreasonable because these are hard-working people who want their offspring to take a better course towards life. Moreover, they also acknowledge the strength of English in outside world but sadly don't prescribe it to their daily life. The only reason they aren't helping my case is in their steep ignorance and apathy towards "learning" and "helping" their kids learn it. Being a parent, they can do a lot like buying comics and story books and stuff like that which my semi-educated dad used to do on his own. Forget it; things don't change unless things change.

I don't teach their parents but I always make it a point to put a big part of the blame on them since I can't get myself to understand their layman "plight". Anyways, I'm doing great with the kids at hand and I try to mention how grateful they should be for their parents are working like clock for their tuition fee! It’s a double-edged argument for me. On one hand, I hate the whole philistine ambiance and on the other, I'd want these kids to not end up like their parents!

The hilarious part of English is its grammar. You can't teach nor learn grammar if you don't think in that language. It's an innate feeling. No matter how much I try to differentiate the baloney of using "am" in front of "They", the kids won't get it until and unless they start loving the language like I did way back when I was in seventh grade and got in touch with this superb teacher and present mentor, Aslam Sir. But that's where the fun of teaching grammar lies. You have no idea what is going on in those small little brains of these cute growing kids but you want them to think and question like you do. It never works successfully every single time. But I love to gamble on the better odds!

In these fast forwarded years I had with Akbar's, I've witnessed some sweet success stories too. One of my students named Farooq notched 88 marks out of 100, beating all previous SSC records in English exam in his school (which coincidentally was mine too). And thankfully, none of my kids have failed though some were apathetic enough to just score passing mark. Whole and sole, I can say I've been lucky with the kind of work I've did and the kind of results I expected and the kind of results I got. I even worked as an assistant English teacher at a school as the registered teacher was ill or something and I completed the portion in 3 months flat. That was one heck of an experience too.

I'm not sure how long will I continue with this so called vocation of mine. I'm not pursuing engineering either. To be honest, I left engineering four months ago and joined long distance bachelors program for a degree in B.A. My parents were appalled at my guts but I just didn't want to continue with engineering math and formulas. My friends and colleagues think I can make a future in teaching but I can't even say "yeah" as my vacillating mind will dance to different tune any given next day! But whatever the future be, right now I'm loving the pressure of weekends that includes making notes, preparing question papers, taking tests and checking answer sheets and even the noise of the backbenchers who are hell-bent on not learning and I'm happy fighting and trying to inculcate the dose of this beautiful language into their novice ears!

Monday, November 19, 2007

Finest doggerels of all time

Weariness
I’m tired of the face I’ve got,
I’m tired of my heart inside
I’m tired of everything that breathes
I’m tired but I can’t go to sleep…
Better were the days, no more indeed
When I laughed at my present
& cried all night
At least no more was my grief to greet
Wasn’t I the only walking alone?
Slowly the ambiance showed its hue
And I lost my sanity to fate……
Some choose death and some choose life
and some get trapped in the gap within
none wants to die, for the love of life
all wish to survive and see all sides
how feeble man gets when the truth reckons
humble mind speaks, heart never listens
saga it is and saga do lie
our life is a beauty in the faintest light
we want the sun to never set,
neither the moon to get upset
our reasons are hapless and questions too
a few tried to change but died in the loop
God is kind but he is busy, sort of.


Drunks don't go far

Drunks don’t go that far
They can’t move their dreams
They won’t die the day as well
For they wish to stay, not leave
Their friends are ever awake
The glasses, shades and drink
Drunks don’t go that far
They can’t move their dreams
They won’t die the day as well
For they wish to stay, not leave
Their friends are ever awake
The glasses, shades and drink!

Ending steps
This skin will nest maggots on end
No sign of me stays through long
My breath won’t kick dust, no more
Within it will move death inward?
Who was I ever to smell soil?
Besides the token name I’ve got
Few drops of cry won’t last
And some words of tales, lost
Under this cloud I had moved by
Sucked in air and warmth of light
Seen some dreams in dark night
Loved some, hated few all in life
May I’ll never return back in sight
May I’ll never see my face
May this stays the longest time
i ever thought i could make...


Forgotten days

‘Some days are meant to fade away
some roads we leave and move ahead’
these words were who consoled me then
can’t say the same right now again!
I do feel good to breath this life,
life that could’ve never touched my sight
but that smile do occurs at night
and that face which can’t lie
flooding my thoughts,
belying my convictions,
stabbing my freedom,
freedom to think the way I like!
Many eyes confronts and moves aside
but that smile stay on, alone
as if to provoke my careless state
and question me for my loneliness
innocence pervades bellicose debate
debate which wins down her gaze
can’t say how much I miss those days
better off like the man they dreamt,
albeit I can’t deny my dismal way
still that ‘sparkle niche’ brings disdain!
my head shuns onto higher aim,
aim to curb this baloney instead!

Friendship days
No days can match my days with you
filled my life with words and hue
you my friend, you know me good
may not remember the days we ruled
but I do, the moments had sped
we grew up tied up like fools!
had our times in bad and hope
you were there, as it always showed
a friend like you, needed, more than food
though my life has changed much
yet not seen anyone closer than you
your place is in my heart’s door
day to celebrate may come and go
but our friendship won’t escape this truth
we are and we will be as we should
held by breath and goodwill could,
never leave our touch for eternal world!

Mistaken
The sound that grumbles in my ear
are not the voice of song or odes
It is the deep pain of those in fear
out of their home and onto street
No one knows the grave reason
for this disruption and this commotion
yet going through this season
deepened in sanguine ocean…dead
permeated smell of blood on floor
someone, anyone, lets get forward
try out something, anything new
ask the killers to stop their bullets
“let my people on land live!”
the surly fever wraparound me
I hold a pen in my weak fingers
covered in shivers of shrouded cry
asking for kindness to smile.

Stains of war


Blood has spilled, rain bade bye
Sun still kissing the wounds alive
Roads are waiting, traveler’s unseen
Is it a beginning or end, it seems’
Days ago, kids were out
Days ago, kitchens smelt fine
Days ago, smiles did smiled
Days ago, veins flowed strong.
Story has changed, curtains stained
Some surviving on dusky breath
Others forsaken by angels of death
God visited but he too left
Didn’t say a word; simply wept.

Unheard words
These are just words…..endless words
Words that means none to some
Still for others, on abode of love
These are just words…..poems
Lost in middle of waves to clash
Just like words of budding truth
Alone nowhere in forest of wild fruits
Tasted sin and did some good
These words never meant so much
Between silence and chaos indeed.