राजनीती

...

इस राजनीती की शतरंज में 

मोहरे पल-पल बदलते हैं।

हरी-भूरी गिरगिट की भांति

नेता सब रंग बदलते हैं।।

आज जो विपक्ष में बैठा

हर पल शोर मचाता है।

हरे-हरे नोटों को देख

अलग ही राग सुनाता है।।

सत्ता का मोह है कुछ ऐसा

दायें को बाएं से मिलाता है।

काले-भूरे गिद्ध की भांति

बिचला भी चक्कर लगाता है।।

विचारधारा तो है लुप्त विचार

राजनीती अलग इक खेल है।

काले धन्दों, सफ़ेदपोश गुंडों का

हो चुका इसमें समावेश है।।

...

Image Courtesy:
Pete Oxford / naturepl.com

क्या तेरा है, क्या मेरा है?

An attempt to present a poem through an audio-visual medium.

Images Courtesy:

Various sources. Kindly bring any copyright violations to notice.

A Bookmark From Life

In the Image:
I standing on the Besant Nagar (Elliot's) Beach.

Image Courtesy:
Saurabh Goyal

Beyond Words

She always wants me 

When she has to pee

When I rush to loo

She wants to come too

In the Image:

Me with my niece in Delhi (clicked a couple of hours back)

Image Courtesy:

No one but me

That Anonymous Nice Young Ailment

She's an ordinary girl

A girl next door

And thats the thing about her

That i adore

She has no pretensions

Won't go case by case

She is what she is

Always in your face

She is too matured

At times for her age

At other times she's a kid

Difficult to engage

She will pull your legs

With a naughty glint in eyes

That you will just give in

To her innocent tries

She likes to be by her own

Most of the times

But is a great company

When a partner in crime

She is the perfect girl

You will like to take home

And introduce gleefully 

To your dad and mom

She reads this, i hope

And know that it's her

Because no more proposing shit

And subsequent torture

Image Courtesy:

Confidential

Am I Done With Love?

Each time it happened, it brought a ray of hope

But now it carries with it, just a fear to cope

Am I done with Love?

Or I still have it in me?

Is it just a mirage?

Or can I still succeed?

When I look back at what transpired

Sometimes it was them, sometimes me

But whoever be blamed for the failures

In the end I was the loser to be

So when the heart skips a beat again

How can it be a reason to smile?

For I have learnt it the hard way

That this thing is not meant for me.

Am I done with Love?

Or I still have it in me?

Is it just a mirage?

Or can I still succeed?

I've always seen myself as a romantic

And this notion has taken my toll

Weaving the dreams just too soon

I have seen them tumbling galore

I want to take a chance again

But know well, that’s not the right way

For each smile that adorns my face today

Will be paid by a drop of tear not far away

Am I done with Love?

Or I still have it in me?

Is it just a mirage?

Or can I still succeed?

P.S. - A comment posted on my novelette 'Everyone Has a Cupid Tale to Tell' after a long time brought out this stupid song. So please don’t ask ‘who is she?'

Image Courtesy:
A friend behind another friends's camera

एक टूटे दिल की शायरी सीधा दिल से!

Well friends, here comes a lame post just to keep this dying blog alive. For those who have no clue what this title (which happens to be in Hindi) translates to, here's what it means - "Poetry of a broken heart straight from the heart". Don't get emotional now!

A couple of these were actually written with a broken heart about four years ago for my ladylove on whom my Cupid Tales were based which were published on this blog earlier this year. 

Please read them the way shayari is recited/read. So, here comes the first - 

Arz kia hai...

सोचा ना था वो  हमें यूँ भूल जायेंगे 

इक छोटी सी खता की हम ऐसी सज़ा पायेंगे 

क्या करें हमें तो भूलना भी नहीं आता 

तुम्हारे लफ्ज़ सुने बिना अब रहा नहीं जाता 

तुम ना हो तो तुम्हारी तस्वीर से बातें कर लिया करते थे 

पर अब तो तुम्हारा अक्स भी हमसे रुसवा रहता है!

Ok, enough of wah wah. Save them for the remaining ones. So, here comes the second. I know the starting is pretty similar.

Once again arz kia hai..

सोचा था कभी तो पलट कर देखो गे इस ओर, 

पर तुम तो नाता ही तोड़ कर चल दिए;

कच्चे धागे थे जो टूट गए, समझाता हूँ अक्सर मैं खुद को, 

पर ये कम्बख्त दिल है कि मानता नहीं!

Can't stop from doing wah wah myself for this one. Well finally, here is another heart broken piece but just from the perspective of a heartbroken poet composed much later than the above two.

For the last time arz kia hai..

शायर ना कहो मुझे, मुझे शायरी नहीं आती,

कुछ लफ्ज़ जोड़ लेता हूँ बस, इनकी अदाएगी नहीं आती!

ज़िंदा ना कहो मुझे, मुझे ज़िन्दगी नहीं आती, 

सांसें भर लेता हूँ बस, इनकी रवानगी नहीं आती!

बन्दा ना कहो मुझे, मुझे बन्दगी नहीं आती,

आंसू  बहा सकता हूँ बस, मुझे शहादतें नहीं आती!

फिर भी जी रहा हूँ मैं, क्यूँ  मौत नहीं आती,

क्या मकसद है ज़िन्दगी का, बात समझ नहीं आती!

In case you do not understand Hindi (though many words are from Urdu too), I am sorry that I can't translate it into English. Maybe it was your lucky day.You can steer clear from this torture.

Ok.. That's it. Now do leave some comments but please, please, please; I don't want any condolences as its a thing of past and the last one is not even straight from the heart but from the brain.

Image Courtesy:

http://imageshack.us (original)

Escape - 2

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 10; the tenth edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Sometimes in the duel of love, Heart gets overwhelmed by the Brain It’s high time, it says, to move on; than wasting your time in vain Better things are there in future; just don’t keep spoiling your chances To keep intact a rotten tree; which has even shed its branches Forget those smiles and the meanings, you used to make out of them Someone never cared enough, you were alone steering that helm Than sitting here and expecting that one last miracle will take place To a new life, to a new dawn, you must get up and set your pace Miss this one chance and you’ll end up sulking, over and over again That gift of life that you possess, in this sorrow will just drain Person to person it depends, how they get over this emotional fight All one needs to do is, forget the past and set priorities right The time has finally come to put to an end this Heart and Brain's strife Time to ESCAPE from vortex of emotions to a new blissful life

As I escaped from becoming a Fool last time, I decided to compensate for it by Escaping twice this time. So here is my second entry for Blog-a-Ton 10. This is another ACROSTIC from my stable after my recent attempt, Religion. Though, this poem is pretty amateurish but was pretty difficult to write as here, rather than the first letter, the first words of each line form a message. So do not miss the message in red which is how I define Escape in this post. To know more about Acrostic and read my previous attempt, click here.
And yeah, if you haven't read my first entry for Blog-a-Ton 10 as yet, just click here. That's the real thing :)

Image Courtesy:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/27635621@N06/ by Collegium Kelowna (edited)

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Religion

Red Rivers of Blood have gushed since ages on this Earth, Edging past the corpses of Men, who had a different Birth. Land, Wealth or Women, never led to such Serious Fights, Instigated none to such extent, to ignore the Human Rights. Gates of Heaven, it Promises, will open for those who Abide, In God’s Name they fight, with no remorse in their Red Eyes. Opium of Masses it is, exclaim hapless learned now and then, Nonetheless, it has its tight grip on millions of Mango Men.

---

As Roshmi commented in my previous post, the poet in me is resurfacing. Well here, I present to you an ACROSTIC after my raw attempts at Cinquain, Mirror Cinquain and Haiku, other peculiar forms of poetry.

Wikipedia defines it as,

An acrostic is a poem or other form of writing in which the first letter, syllable or word of each line, paragraph or other recurring feature in the text spells out a word or a message.

It is a pretty popular form of writing having been employed by great literary geniuses like Edgar Alan Poe and Lewis Carrol amongst others. I got introduced to it recently by a new Blog-a-Tonic, Nishali Chand.

I hope you liked it. However, more importantly, I'll not like to dilute the message in this poem with this literary gibberish. 

Can any kind of violence be justified in the name of religion?

Image Coutesy:

http://theviewspaper.net (edited)

Random

The Brain is such a tricky thing;

Best, kept occupied with random stuff.

Once it loses this virtual zing,

  Pops up real questions pretty tough.

Image Courtesy:
http://www.brballard.com

The Indian Dream

This is the Platinum Jubilee (75^th) Post on this Blog. It is a tribute to our Father of the Nation, M.K. Gandhi whose 140th Birth Anniversary was celebrated yesterday.

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 3; the third edition of the online marathon of Bloggers; where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

You can be what you want on that land of paradise
So they said and left to chase the American Dream
Some fell on the way while others managed to rise
But they missed to realise a possible Indian Dream
Here can be no dream but nightmares they nagged
Hurriedly packing their bags for the foreign shore
What has India given to me they demandingly asked
Not bothering to mention what had they given to her

A possible Indian Dream?

Yes, to dream in India is possible and to realise it, staying here is also possible.

However, I am not an idealist. Hence, I am not against anyone leaving the country for the greener pastures. Moreover, in this global village where each economy is dependent upon each other, free flow of human resources is as important as goods and services. India is the largest receiver of remittances from its overseas citizens, something that fuels our forex reserves and makes us competitive on global front.

In short an Indian Dream can also be realised while staying away. However, for that to happen, you will have to see your dream and the Indian dream complementing each other. You may stay away physically but emotionally you will have to stay close enough.

What is the Indian dream?

It is the dream that all the people, irrespective of their socio-economic standing, will get the opportunities to realise their potential within the country.

In this sense my Indian dream and your Indian dream are the same, i.e. to succeed in life and definitely we will prefer to realise it staying closer to our roots. Ofcourse there are some exceptions who are just adamant to move away to foreign lands irrespective of the fact that back home, the opportunities exist or not. For them, the grass is always greener on the other side.

Not including such exceptions in this discussion; we must realise first of all that the onus lies upon us to make our country resilient enough. Before demanding anything, we have to be ever ready to supply her with the nourishment she requires.

For example, on short term basis, the money we receive from non-residents may boost our economy but for the long term development of the nation, we also need their true commitment. It’s something like taking care of the ailing parents who need personal attention rather than monetary help.

As for those who opt to stay back because of their dignity or the lack of opportunity, must learn to accept the fact that we have many problems on our way which must be dealt by us, ourselves.

Dream
Indian, Fancy
Rising, Shining, Roaring
Would leave everyone behind
Delusion
Vision
Many problems impeding speed
Trying, Solving, Succeeding
Pragmatic, Indian
Dream

Yes, we cannot live in any delusion and have to find our way through. We cannot put all the responsibility on the government but have to shoulder it too. Poverty, overpopulation, unemployment, illiteracy, corruption, environmental degradation, communalism, casteism, terrorism, regionalism and disparities are just some of the causes that are impeding our growth and not allowing us to have a promising Indian dream. And these problems cannot be solved by escaping from them but by facing them with courage and determination.

To make it possible, it is not necessary to be in any specific power position. We as the citizens have to perform our vocations, whatever they maybe, diligently. We have to act responsibly and empathically in our social interactions. We have to develop sensitivity towards the economic disparities that exist and help the government in plugging them. We have to perform our role as a good citizen before demanding good governance.

Our forefathers also had an Indian dream!

They saw an India where the people will be free from all the clutches and will rule themselves.

They gave us the freedom and gave us the vision but somehow we wavered off the path. However, the situation is not all that glum. Last decade or two have seen India taking the right trajectory once again and the conditions seem ripe to realise our Indian Dream. However, it should be ensured that the fruits of development are distributed among all the citizens and are not limited to any particular section.

What about our future generations' Indian Dream?

If everyone takes upon himself/herself to be a part of this Indian dream, and make our personal dreams a part of it too, then we can give a sweet Indian dream to our future generations.

Let us just not wait
For the Change to happen but
Be the Change ourselves.

Moreover, this Indian Dream should not be seen in relative terms but in absolute terms. We have to compete with ourselves and not with anyone else. This is true for us individually and India as a whole. There is a thin line between optimism and wishful thinking. We must not transgress it.

Now, it is upto you to decide, this Indian dream of mine is a delusion or a vision.

Off-the-topic Relevant Reflections :

• The first poem is a simple two-versed composition with the most common rhyming pattern of a-b-a-b.
• The last two lines of this poem are inspired by the U.S. President J.F. Kennedy's famous quote, "Don't ask what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."
• The second poem is a Mirror Cinquain, an extended form of the cinquain, a form of poetry that I have introduced earlier on this blog. Moreover, this cinquain is much closer to the original form than my previous attempt. Here line 1 has 1 noun, line 2 has 2 adjectives explaining the noun, line 3 has 3 action verbs (-ing ending verbs), line 4 has a 4 words phrase and line 5 has 1 word explaining the noun in line 1. The Mirror cinquain is formed by a cinquain and a reverse cinquian. Original cinquains have a 2, 4, 6, 8, 2 syllables pattern which got gradually transformed into a 1, 2, 3, 4, 1 words pattern.
• The third poem is my crude first attempt at a Haiku. It is a very popular form of short poetry, an unrhyming verse genre, conveying an image or feeling in two parts spread over 3 lines with 5, 7, 5 syllables pattern. Traditional Japanese Haiku is written with a seasonal reference unlike this one.
• This Haiku is inspired by Mahatma Gandhi's famous quote, "Be the change you want to see in the world." It is a tribute to the great man whose 140^th Birth Anniversary was celebrated yesterday.
• Talking of Indian Dream and poems, you might like to read my childhood poem on this subject. It is in Hindi and have been posted earlier. Click here to read it.
  

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton and links to their respective posts can be checked here. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Image Courtesy:
http://img.fropper.com (edited)

Block

Block
Blogger's Block
Further ticks Clock
I ponder in Shock
Rock

I heard that the shortest poem in the world, titled 'I' has a single word, 'Why?'.

At least mine has 11 words.

Actually, I just tried my hands on cinquain, a form of poetry with just 5 lines and 11 words. As evident from my composition,

Line 1 has just one word, i.e. the title; line 2 has two words that describe the title; line 3 has three words that tell the action; line 4 has four words that express the feeling; and line 5 has one word which recalls the title.

It need not rhyme. Nonetheless, I composed a rhyming cinquain. An achievement indeed, for a blogger who claims to be experiencing a block as massive as a rock!


P.S.
1. Before someone objects to my tampering with the semantics, I must admit that the action in line 3 and the feelings expressed in line 4 should be of the same subject. However, in my poem, while action is performed by the clock, the feeling is mine. Now that's what they call poetic licence, isn't it!
2. Cinquain has many variants which can be checked here, here, here and here.

Image Courtesy:
http://www.coloringbookfun.com and http://playingspoons.files.wordpress.com (edited)

The Cream and Scum of Blogging

This post has been published by me as a part of the Blog-a-Ton 1, the first edition of the online marathon of Bloggers, where we decide and we write. To be part of the next edition, visit and start following my other blog, Blog-a-Ton.

This also happens to be my Golden Jubilee post for the year 2009. So, I surely have double reasons to celebrate.

We’ve not been there, but we debate;
Our half-baked knowledge we create;
And then dish it out with best verbiage;
Expecting others to hail us as a sage!

It might seem that I am in a self-indicting mood, roping in all the bloggers in the process. However, that is not the case. I thought of starting this post with a candid admission and a blunt accusation at the same time.

Blogging has given a new found freedom to many across the globe as we find it easier to put across our views to others. However, in the process, I find many who just dish out their half-baked viewpoints to their readers. I might have indulged in the same earlier, though now I try to resist any such temptations. However, there is no guarantee that I won't repeat it in the future.

Recently, a very popular Indian blogger reviewed a novel by a non-resident Iranian female author. However, while doing so, she could not refrain from giving her personal opinions about the Iranian society which were largely formed from the readings of this very novel. She even perched out on giving her one-sided opinions about the present Iranian socio-political turmoil.

I can not blame her. This post was just an exception. Moreover, when for each post, she is getting more than 100 responses and that too mostly positive, she is bound to take strong stands, though at times without authentic information. Moreover, I have no problem with bloggers airing their views because that's what blogging is all about.

The point I am making here is that, how honest you are while penning your blog and what is your real motive behind it. If the blog is just an online personal diary, then you are free to dish out any whims and fancies of yours. However, if a blogger is aiming to cater to a readership on some relevant issues, then being honest is very important. Here the blog takes the form of a third dimension to news media, the other established ones being print and broadcast.

Just like a newspaper reader and a news program viewer will like to get unbiased opinions from these mediums, a blog reader like me will want substantiated opinions, even if they are biased. However, its not all that scummy as I might have inadvertently, made it seem to be. Even within this scum, I can extract the cream. Lets see how.

Blogs are a great medium for generating debates. Even, if some blogger comes out with half baked opinions, there are the readers who are sitting there to correct him/her. For this to happen, one must have readers at the first place. For this to happen, his/her blog should be interesting enough. For this to happen, the blogger should be honest enough. However, honesty doesn't guarantee freedom from biases. On the contrary, it brings out your biases in a candid manner. So, the readers are always there to correct you and to fill the gaps.

Here lies the beauty of blogosphere. Blogging is not just a one way process of airing your views but also about accepting and inculcating others' views through their comments and their blog-posts. In this sense, on a personal level, blogging has been quite rewarding to me by helping me to meet other passionate Indian bloggers from whom I have learnt a lot. However, there are a lot more, I'll like to meet in the future. Blog-a-Ton was initiated with this very mission in mind.


Now that I have moved from the general to personal level, I'll like to elaborate on other creamy facts about blogging pertaining to me. After having graduated, I have been mostly at home preparing for my civil services examinations. There's a lot, I have learnt in these couple of years through texts, television and internet as well. This time which I've spent with myself has also helped me in substantiating my viewpoints and perceptions. This blog was started as a medium to voice my ideas and ideology as the name itself reflects.

The journey till now seems satisfying as my viewpoints have been appreciated by many of the readers. Wherever, there has been a difference of opinion, they have aired them candidly. Either, I have corrected myself or corrected them or we have agreed to disagree. But in this whole process, I find myself as a net-gainer.

Recently, I have also diversified, writing short stories, poems and memoirs in addition to social and political issues. Sometimes, these posts are not totally related to the subject of this blog but then who loves monotony. Even while writing about relevant issues, I have tried to diversify my writing style, like the hypothetical dialogue between two friends in case of the post on gay rights, a fictitious story to share a curious case of corruption or a poem to reflect upon the materialistic values of the society.

All this has helped me a lot as I find, both my quality and quantity of writing has improved manifolds. Bulk of my posts have been published in last couple of months and this blog has helped me to do what I have always loved to.

However, the picture is not all that creamy. Blogging has been eating into my study time as I find this new hobby quite addictive. I am trying my best to strike a balance and can just hope, I'll succeed in this endeavour too.

Now, that I started this post with some indicting lines, it will only be fair if I end with some vindicating ones. That's what Empathic Libertarianism is all about.

We know the half truth, we search for more;
In an honest endeavour, try to fill every pore;
Only then do we go on and publish our tale;
Expecting others to correct us when we fail!

P.S. Of the numerous posts, I've read of the popular blogger I mentioned in this post, there have been only two instances that I have not agreed to her viewpoint. I commented about this on her blog and she was gracious enough to respond and appreciate my viewpoints. The reason, I gave her example was to put across the point that when revered bloggers like her can make a mistake (as per my perception) once in a while, one should not be surprised to read many others who use blogging as a medium to air their obscure views in the worst possible language.

The fellow Blog-a-Tonics who took part in this Blog-a-Ton are Arjuna, Saimanohar, Dhiman, Avdi, Daisy Blue, Sid 'Ravan' Kabe, Shankar, Shilpa Garg, Bharathi, Ranee, Ranee again, Pawan and Ajinkya.
Click on their respective names to read their posts on The Cream and Scum of Blogging.
To be part of the next edition of this online marathon, visit and start following Blog-a-Ton.

Image Courtesy
http://edutech.csun.edu (edited)

An Innocent Ode to a Great Sacrifice

10 years of Kargil Victory Day

This day, a decade ago; India finally declared victory in the war which was imposed upon it by unscrupulous elements across the western border. Those fighting under the garb of Kashmiri grievances were shown the way back to their country or sent directly to heavens. As we celebrate the tenth anniversary of Kargil Vijay Diwas, I dedicate an innocent ode to the life and sacrifices of those brave men who never returned from the battle front.

This poem is again from my childhood collection from which I have posted earlier too, written much before the Kargil War. Seeing a NDTV documentary couple of hours ago, where Barkha Dutt relived those moments with her fellow crew men and officers she had met during Kargil War coverage was pretty emotional. Late Capt. Vikram Batra's identical twin Vishal Batra while talking about his brother could not retain his tears. Before leaving, here is one of my favourite song from the movie LOC-Kargil;

बस इतना याद रहे, एक साथी और भी था।

	One of the best works of Javed Akhtar - Anu Malik - Sonu Nigam trio

Images Courtesy:
Self designed with images from http://www.au.af.mil and http://www.globalsecurity.org (edited)

The Eternal Labyrinth of a Materialistic Life

As I sit down with a pen and a pad 

To wipe off this melancholy with a swab

I try to break this deafening chime Searching for some rhythm and some rhyme 

 Concoction of words from here and there 

Put together to help me somehow share Share the intricacies of my heart

Waiting for the monotony to depart

There are some who always bear a smile 

Pretending as if every thing is sublime But the truth is that life somehow irks 

For some due to work, for some no work 

 Life is becoming alienating day by day Clouding our thoughts from the warming rays 

Everyone is moving at one's own pace Trying to outdo others in an impersonal race 

 Money has taken the centre stage Everyone incarcerated in this binding cage 

It is the means and the end to all

 Lifting some, while the others fall 

 Since childhood, we just hear this rant 

Preparing us for a life like a worker ant There is none who escapes this labyrinth 

All stuck here, be the pauper or the king 

 I want to be a heretic, not one of them

 Bask in eternal sunshine, not eclipsed protem 

But I realise, even this sunshine comes at a cost 

Find myself ensnared here, just out of sorts 

 Like others, I am dependent on all of these 

The gadgets, the commodities, the material things 

Can you sacrifice these to live peacefully 

No, replies my adulterated heart sheepishly.

Far Away from This Thickening Smoke

This is the 50^th post on this Blog. I decided to dedicate this Golden Jubilee post to a special cause about which I have been writing and also acting upon, though in small measures as yet.

Far away from this thickening smoke,

There was a place that used to be.

Canopy of trees, a gleaming river,

As far as you could see.

The soil was rich, the weather pleasant,

So in came teeming crowds.

With time everything was gone,

Leaving behind smoking shrouds.

Now here is a jungle of concrete,

Where the so called humans reside.

For the love they got, they give back smoke,

While they work, sleep or drive.

I've heard, it's same everywhere,

The temperatures are rising high.

For more smoke that they will add,

Their children will have to cry.

Far away from this thickening smoke,

There was a place that used to be.

Going back there is not possible,

So please stop here, at least.

Click here to learn how you can reduce your carbon footprint and help in thwarting Global Warming in your day to day life. Though the tips overall pertain to lifestyle and habits of average Americans but contain some important tips for middle and upper class Indian families too.

Image Courtesy:

http://www.mooseyscountrygarden.com (edited)

The Monsoon राग ।

Followed by some food for thought

A Rainy Day - Drawn by 'a 6 to 8 years old' me

With the maximum temperatures hovering above 40°C (104°F), Chandigarh has been eagerly awaiting the advent of the monsoon. The showers we got on the 16^th of June were, as later revealed by Meteorological Department, due to western disturbances and not pre-monsoon showers as I mentioned in a post that day.
The monsoons have always been a child's paradise. I fondly remember bathing in my balcony under the natural shower and those paper boats which my father used to make for me so that I could float them in the puddles on the road.
Doesn't that remind you of the first verse of a particular song, immortalized by Jagjit Singh's unique baritone:

यह दौलत भी ले लो, यह शोहरत भी ले लो;
भले छीन लो मुझसे मेरी जवानी।
मगर मुझको लौटादो बचपन का सावन;
वो कागज़ की कश्ती, वो बारिश का पानी।

	Tune in to listen to the complete song

Here's an amusing but apt translation from my side (try singing it to the original tune;)

Take this money and take this fame;
Even snatch my youth if you may.
But give me back my childhood's monsoon;
That boat made of paper, that water of rain.

Before you accuse me of filling my post with someone else's creation, I'll reproduce two poems, I wrote long ago. Yup, the two are from the same childhood collection from which I have posted last time and earlier too.
I remember writing the first one for a home assignment. I was finding it pretty difficult but suddenly it started raining. I went out in the balcony and started writing. The words just flowed naturally after that.

The sun was invisible and the clouds turned black
At that time I sensed, that monsoon has commenced
The drops of rain trickled down, making the sight beautiful
Happy were the people of town, before who were mournful
Peacocks started dancing and the frogs crocked with happiness
God blessed the burning Earth as for her it was a new birth
Monsoon is the King of seasons, to say this I have many reasons
Rain is the love of God, in disguise of the water drops

After this cute little poem, here is another one, but this time in Hindi. Well, there is no anecdote related to it.

सोंधी सोंधी खुशबू आई, मन में एक तरंग जगाई।
टप-टप-टप बरसा पानी, यह है प्यारी वर्षा रानी॥
सब के मन को स्वछन्द यह करती, ठंडी करती तपती धरती।
तरस विधि को धरती पर आया, देवराज द्वारा पानी बरसाया॥
तालाब पर यह छम-छम करती, सबके मन में खुशी है भरती।
किसान नाचें, पक्षी चेह्चहाएं, मोर नाच मोरनी को बुलाएं॥
खेत फिरसे हैं लहलहाते, हरे-भरे पोधें हैं भाते।
बच्चे कागज़ की कश्तियाँ बनाते, फिर उन्हें पानी में बहाते।।
वर्षा बड़ी सुहावनी है लगती, कोई ऋतू ऐसी नहीं होती।

The two poems are so similar in the spirit as well as structure that both can be regarded as each others translation.
In these two poems my affection towards monsoons has been expressed quite succinctly with the childhood's innocence. With time, I believe this affection goes down as rains become more of a nuisance for us. Afterall, who likes to get drenched while going to the college on a bike or get late for an exam or maybe, a date.
The biggest evil of rain for an average Indian, young or old, is when a much awaited cricket match gets abandoned due to it or India is defeated thanks to the bogus Duckworth-Lewis formula (though when the result is in our favour the same formula becomes the lifesaver).

On a serious note:
Well, we might change, our priorities might change and hence, our love for monsoons might change but let us hope that monsoon never changes. Sadly, it has changed its trend over the years and is becoming more and more unpredictable.
The havoc created by monsoons in Mumbai in recent years is fresh in our memories. On the other hand, this year, it has arrived much later than what was projected by MET Department and it is expected to be stunted in duration and rainfall.
This year's late arrival has been largely attributed to El Nino; a global periodic ocean-atmospheric phenomena that arises in tropical Pacific due to over-heating of the ocean waters and leads to the weakening of high pressure over the Indian Ocean which in turn weakens the South-West Trade Winds that bring monsoons to the low pressure belt of Indian Subcontinent in summers.
However the role of Global Warming, though not authenticated as yet, in bringing about a change in the general trend of monsoons in the recent years, can not be ignored.
The late and stunted monsoons directly impact the Indian economy negatively, at the macro level. Moreover, at the micro level, it negatively affects the livelihoods of thousands of farmers, dependent agricultural labourers and those associated with the agro-based industries and the auxiliary services throughout the country.
Such a scenario makes it all more reasonable to fight Global Warming with much more vigour and zeal.

Image Courtesy:
Self Drawn and Photographed (original)

A Struggle that is called Life

I ended my previous post by equating life to a struggle. So, carrying on from there, I reproduce my two poems, I wrote long ago. They just reflect what I meant in those parting lines;

Life has moved on
Those days are left far behind
But one thing is pretty clear
What I started in my sophomore days
Is there to stay
As the struggle of life
To bear.

Here is the first of the two;

Success Mantra

Once in a lifetime opportunity is the life itself,
Make the maximum out of it, always thrive to excel.
Fed up of losing the battles, just don’t give up the fight,
Keep the desired destination always within your sight.

The path you choose might be very long and hard,
Just be careful as here you won’t get any wild card.
Keeping the faith in yourself can do the final trick,
Remember to take some rest in case you feel sick.

The mantra is not in just moving forward at a pace nonstop,
It is to plan everything beforehand to reap a fine crop.
With shear dedication you'll never let the fruits turn sour,
After losing all those petty battles, you'll win the final war.

I wrote these lines four years ago, on this very day, i.e. Jun 22, 2005. The reason I remember it is that I keyed them as a note in my new Nokia 6820 and the note carries the date. Sadly that means, I am still carrying the same old phone:(
Anyways, I recently found a collection of my childhood poems which I wrote when I was about 10 years old. I have mentioned it an earlier post too. There, I came across another poem, titled 'Life'.
These two poems have been written about a decade apart. In this period, the lines have gone longer and the words have grown stronger but both carry the same spirit, 'a struggle that is called life'. I'll sign off with the other one.

Life

The life is a see saw
Full of ups and downs
A moment to enjoy yourself
A moment to frown.

The life is a reality
Its not a fairy tale
Sometimes you'll succeed
Sometimes you'll fail.

The life is a war
You have to fight
Sometimes you may go wrong
Sometimes you may be right.

Image Courtesy:
http://www.makemovies.co.uk (edited)

The Sophomore Days

The first year at the college went by
Uneventful
With nothing to feel high
So when came the sophomore year
I was sure I must give a try
Got together a bunch of mates
To do something to develop our personalities
So we launched a club with a bang
And everyone wanted to join in
Made some wrong decisions early on
Those left out just cried foul
They got together to show us down
The game was surely on.
Meanwhile, on personal front
I finally made some strides
Started talking to the girl I had loved
All my life
Here too I made a mistake
Jumped the gun too soon
“Can’t we be just friends” she said
And I felt like a cartoon
Back at the club, we somehow
Gathered the strength to move on
Determined to not give it up
We started planning for a grand showdown
Again, when it came to love
I was not ready to give up as then
Kept trying to convince her somehow
In the hope she’ll finally relent
Our club event came
It was a hit
We surely felt victorious
The seeds of labour we sowed
Reaped a crop glorious
On love front victory was hard to come
But I kept trying to woo her
It went on and on with no end
Even after sophomore year was over
When I look back today
All seems so stupid and meaningless to me
That ecstasy in succeeding in endeavours
And gloom when things weren’t
What I wanted them to be
Life has moved on
Those days are left far behind
But one thing is pretty clear
What I started in my sophomore days
Is there to stay
As the struggle of life
To bear.

In the Image:
The first executive team of Panache, the club we started.

Me - top right corner.
She - keep guessing!

Image Courtesy:
My personal collection (edited)

Proud to be a भारतीय !

Blast from the Past

Searching for some stuff in my cove, I actually tripped upon some old treasure. It was a file that contains, as it's label read, 'Original Creations by Vigro'. Well, it's my childhood collection of poems, I(Vipul Grover) wrote more than a decade ago. Here I am going to reproduce two of them, both dedicated to my love, my country India.
The first written in English is more of an anthem. Read it for yourself.

I am proud of my motherland,
I am proud of her holy sands.
Crowned by the Himalayan Ranges,
Garlanded by the pure Ganges.
Three seas washing Her Holy feet,
The Land where various cultures meet.
The true example of unity in diversity,
The land of oneness and integrity.
I am proud to be her citizen,
I am proud to be an Indian.

I know calling India the true example of unity in diversity may not go so well with many of her critics. However, we must salute her resilience and hope for a better future. That's what I am doing in the next poem, written in my mother language, Hindi. Again let me remind you, I wrote it when I was about 10-12 years old. So don't get too judgmental.

मेरे प्यारे भारत का भविष्य है बहुत सुनहेरा,
देखो मेरा प्यारा तिरंगा झूम कर है लहरा !
नाचेंगे यहाँ मोर भी पहिन के सोने के पंख,
पैसा बिखरा होगा जैसे समुद्र में हों शंख !
चोर-चकारी का हो जायेगा संपूर्ण अंत,
देश का उद्धार करेंगे कई महान संत !
नहीं होगा आतंक, न ही शांति होगी भंग,
सब जातियां रहेंगी ख़ुशी-ख़ुशी संग-संग !
सब देशों में होगा इस ही का सर्वोत्तम अंक,
सभी होंगे राजा , यहाँ न होगा कोई रंक !
खुशी की नदियाँ बहेंगी न होगा कोई ग़म,
अनेकों वीर योद्धा लेंगे यहाँ जन्म !
सब सज्जनों का प्रयतन लायेगा एक दिन रंग,
मिल-जुल कर जीना बन जायेगा सबका ढंग !
दुनिया पर होगा एक दिन इस ही का राज,
नहीं करेगा कोई यहाँ बेईमानी का काज !
सब लोगों में प्रेम होगा बहुत ही गहरा,
हीरे-मोती से बनेगा एक दिन इसका सहरा !
मेरे प्यारे भारत का भविष्य है बहुत सुनहेरा,
देखो मेरा प्यारा तिरंगा झूम कर है लहरा !

Well, I realize, I ended up drawing too rosy a picture of our future. You may call it wishful thinking of a kid. However, I'll call it a young mind's audacity of hope.

Image Courtesy
Self-Photographed (edited)