Sunday, September 24, 2006
A road less travelled,
Knowledge of life
and all thats before and after,
freedom from sorrows and laughter.
Independence from time,
A thinking Mind,
Moksha and Nirvana,
Karma and Penance,
Self-denial and no self-indulgence.
Now when the maze has finally caught up,
Do you see the exit.
Or in the tangled web
you're still searching for the light.
It's hard to say how far you are,
but there's always a road back.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
Day before yesterday, a series of blasts ripped through the city of
This wasn’t an event that required ones attention for an hour or two, like an accident where you panic; you try to get in touch with your near and dear ones. Once you’ve made sure that everyone is fine, you take a sigh of relief and then for get the accident as a bad dream. After all, essentially none that you were concerned with are affected.
But Mumbai blasts are not accident, they are a serious threat to my country, my fellow countrymen and when I think deeper, it’s a threat to me. Mumbai blasts are not accident, they are a well thought of plan to disrupt harmony and peace of me and my country.
Sadly though, these thoughts never occurred to me. I made sure that all those I knew are fine and got back to my work. Now that I think, this is what I feel these terrorists bank on. They realize that most people will forget these things like I did and most of us end up doing just that. We forget too soon, too easily, go back to the state of slumber we always were, only to wake up when these terror merchants carry their business again. We are again hurt the same way, but we continue the way we live, a life ridden by forgetfulness. And perhaps that’s the way the government deals with these situations. That’s why I don’t blame them; after all they have been bitten by the same bug as me. None of us think deep, none of us care for people beyond our sphere of known.
So far away from my country, I have to force myself to think all this. Sad but true. I know I would have done nothing if I was in
Worse is the realization that even after giving time to this, I’m not able to come up with any single point that I can suggest to counter such events and activities. We don’t even know who the real culprit is? Is it
Most newspapers are filled with an image of Mumbaikars , depicting them as those who are not jolted, praising their spirit, their courage, people who are united, so on and so forth. Irony is that its event as bad as this that unites us, makes us stand together. Everyone in college got into act when they heard the news, cursing government, terrorists, or who so ever they thought they should. We all cursed and expressed our sorrow united. Happy occasions are not sufficient to unite the people. We don’t have anything major on festive occasions in our college. Like I said, happiness is a less valued emotion. Irony, because all we ever aspire for is happiness and joy and yet those are not sufficient to unite us.
One of my friend linked all this unity and aforementioned state of emotions in the aftermath of a tragedy to the term ‘Indianess’. According to him, all of us have this subconscious Indianess buried inside us that rises on occasions like Mumbai blasts. Is this Indianess or a sudden charge of sentiments that dies so soon that it just don’t feel right to give it such a big name as Indianess. And if its really Indianess, shame on myself for it takes a terrorist attack to evoke it. Can’t I have this Indianess as a part of myself, just like my feelings for my parents, like those towards my friends. It makes me sad to realize that my Indianess is not a vital part of me. I sleep with this sad thought. I hope I wake up more clear in head, more Indian in heart.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
A moon rose up by my side
Nose dripping and tears running down the cheek.
Go my dear
Why feel so blue.
Take some rest behind the clouds
I'll be awake
to take care of the night.
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Saw the two sides
A ripple in the still lake
Stream on the hill slope
Diluting shadow in the water beneath the feet
A warm day passing by a deserted town
The orange of the setting sun
Turquoise of the morning
Red, when the blood was
Blue as its now
Time is an illusion
No walls and windows
Time's a cycle
Prison for the thoughts
Saw the two sides.