NATURAL LAW

If you call once..
I shall leave all engagements and come
And no reason shall be asked,
Like fire burns,
Like water flows,
Like the sun shines bright,
Like a dark moonless night..
It shall be natural!

If you call once..
I shall come and not ask “why”
Like the monsoon rains,
Like the tidal waves,
Like a blooming rose,
Like a face morose,
It shall be natural!

If you call once..
you’ll find me around,
Like a silent sound,
Like a barking hound,
Like a cuckoo’s song,
Like the right held wrong,
It shall be natural!

And should we meet,
We would not greet,
There won’t be words,
But a silence deep,
And, like the skies look blue,
and the sugar is sweet,
like the rainbow’s every hue,
and the sparrows’ tweet,
it shall be natural!

FREEDOM OF SPEECH

a lovely morn,
his lordship speaks on...
on freedom of speech,
to a SPEECHLESS class
speechless not by choice,
speechless not by chance,
but by compulsion not to raise voice,
while his lordship goes on...
on "Freedom of Speech"
Beautiful words may induce and inspire..
set many a noble mind afire..
but they can surely interest and charm,
faces that look pretty..
particularly when the words come from-
a position of authority...
Freedom of Speech-
a PRIVILEGE to some in the right form and age
Freedom of Speech-
a COMPULSION not to speak,
for others not worth a gaze!

decent guys

When it rains…
They meet,
- far away from the world of “is”
-the symbol of an imperceptible ought…
very much existent,
palpably present..
in another dimension…
when it rains…
and the lazy sun lies under fluffy blankets
half-asleep, half-awake…
they secretly meet
beyond the gaze of the world..
at a place where wakefulness merges with sleep..
and reality unites with thought
when it rains…
they say nothing…
like in the world of “is”
they speak to every “is” nd play it cool…
but never to the ones close to their ought..
it makes them feel like a fool…
but when it rains…
they do meet
in another dimension-
from where they return
with a smile,
and move on…
life goes on...
in the world of “is”
where they never meet…
and perhaps they never will,
and its good!
they’ll create another world..
a world more beautiful,
they always do..
and once again they will..
one more story…
one more song…
one more painting…
a world of art…
where they meet
and “is” becomes one with “ought”
who are they?
seekers of some ought?
no certainly not...
they're a distinct class of morons-
there are no "hows" nd "whys"
they're born-lovers of insanity-
the so-called decent guys!

its raining outside!

its raining outside...
-a changed weather;
what was crisp nd warm till yesterday,
is now damp nd cold,

its raining outside...
i'm in my cocoon
presumably safe frm the chilling effects
sounds of the patter reach me nevertheless,

its raining outside...
a stir within...
in some dark corner hard to locate...
it was dark always, but its darker today...

its raining outside...
a flower died before it could bloom
the rains had to come; only they came too soon
and there was no place to hide...

its raining outside...
8:30 in the evening....
time to have dinner..
down there in another mess...

its raining outside...
yes its still raining outside!

SALINE NECTARS

Where were these clouds when i wasn’t home
and the roses in my garden were drying?
don’t they know,
all my roses are now withered,
and no showers will ever bring them to life again?
nectars from heaven now console the parched earth-
a million new blossoms will take birth
But amongst those buds which will abound
the petals lost before time, shall never be found...
and what about the ones waiting to be born?
these clouds didn’t turn up; they did never come
Now drenching in the rains as the desiccated form of earth cheers
Its spirit secretly sneers...
for mixed inseparably in the pouring drops
are the clouds’ hidden tears!

noticed something today;
feel a dark presentiment,
is that just my mind at play
or beginning of the end?

a master thief!

I've been wondering how come half the WORLD is not so beautiful as the other half? I'm just not prepared to believe that God could have been unfair in distributing beauty. You must have STOLEN half the total beauty he had! So you're held guilty of theft, and your punishment is that you should keep smiling...always, and thus return all the beauty you have so selfishly stolen and kept with yourself, back to the world.

farewell!

Perhaps no individual would go to the extent i've gone to communicate with you. and you haven't bothered to even listen. i wonder how anyone can be so fanatical. there were a thousand and one things i wanted to share. there were a thousand others on which i wanted to seek your inputs. but you remained absolutely unreachable. just because of one reason? i may have been imprudent to the extent of idiocy or perhaps insanity. but i'm sorry to say you've been uncivil. what harm could i do u in a talk? how can you be so wildly presumptuous that a person like me can ever create troubles for those whom he admires? i was with u in college for a considerable length of time. can you recall one incident when i was discourteous, disrespectful or uncivil to you or anyone? u seem to be fond of jesus. but do you think you'd have bothered to listen to wht he had to say when the whole world was against him? do you think you'd have been on his side when he was being nailed? don't fool yourself by believing so...

i'm a very ordinary individual...but i've forgiven, those who were not worthy of forgiveness, those who were outright cheap, and even those who hurt me in countless ways. and i was never dishonest to anyone. i didn't hide anything. and most brutally, i've been honest about myself. then why so much rigidity? should i presume that courtesy, honesty and truthfulness have become outdated? should i think that decency is now considered as weakness? or should i think, it was your vanity and nothing else? but remember, every time truth is suppressed, it reasserts itself with renewed vigour. only truth and truth alone has the strength to stand alone. if i survived long enough, i'll make my point one day. you have left me with no choice but to put everything i had to say, in public domain...and i'll go it alone. those who're capable of understanding will find it on their own. and as for me, i can't care for anyone's opinions anymore; perhaps not even yours.

now that you're leaving, i give you my best wishes. you're now all set to march into a larger battlefield from the smaller one. and i wish you'd win, coz even though you've treated me the way people do not treat even their bitterest foes, WE HAPPEN TO BE ON THE SAME SIDE. I hope you'd see it some day!

finally we became friends (II)

"Why did you think we could be "friends", and what do you mean when you use that term?" you asked. The question was unexpected, and hence left me pondering for a while. "That's difficult," I said, "but I'll try and reply since you have asked." I use the term "friend" to refer to an individual I have ceased to be at war with. The world is a battlefield, where everyone is at war with everyone else, and you have no choice but to fight. You can be aggressive or defensive- that's only a matter of strategy; but the fight remains inevitable.To exist is to fight. The resources in the world are limited, and everyone is a potential competitor, and hence the war. And it's a cold war, so you can't use direct weapons. The weapons used are indirect, so you can't afford to be yourself. No matter where you go, a mask is needed! A friend is an individual, before whom you can stand nude, without fear or shame, knowing full well that you'll still be accepted, as there is no longer any war between you. You're no longer competitors. I felt I couldn't fight with you; never! In-fact, I could give you my share, quite willingly. And so I felt we could be friends!

To AYN RAND, with "LOVE"

Nothing personal, but may i ask if your philosophy of objectivism was so perfect, why were you in such a mess that you had to smoke 20 cigarettes a day? You should have been happy and contented. You talked much about individualism, but would you disagree that the true merit of an idea lies in it’s impact upon the life of it’s proponent? Howard Roark himself was a heavy smoker in The Fountainhead, wasn’t he? May I ask why? I mean if he was truly at ease with himself why this injurious indulgence was needed? Understandably, the fellow must have been addicted, as you seem to have been. But then, wasn’t it you who talked vehemently about “rationality?”. So, did you mean to say, acts done out of habit, can be rational if they give you momentary respite even if they have an adverse impact on your health in the long run? To you, an individual is rational if they base their actions on sound reason. So, by that yardstick, any consideration of instinct or emotion in the process of making decisions should be irrational. Then, can you please tell me what prompted your Roark to opt for architecture as a career? Coming to you, what prompted you to become a writer? Can you justify these choices by sound reason and logic? You present Roark as a man who had no place for emotions in his decision-making. But if that was so, then why was he so fanatically devoted to his cause/ideology? Doesn’t it show he was as emotional as, if not more than, toohey? And it was that emotional attachment and devotion to his cause which made him stand firm and resolute against all odds? Let us be a little practical, i mean business you see! In most cases, unlike your Roark, individuals come from different social, cultural and national milieu. So the sum-total of all these factors has an inevitable bearing upon the thought-process of the individual. What then, is rationality if all these conditionings are removed? For example there can be arguments in favour of god’s existence and there can be equally strong arguments against it...you can talk like an ardent supporter of capitalism, and i can do the same in regard to communism, so there can believers in different faiths, doctrines and ideologies. How is then an individual to decide what is rational if his emotional leanings are discounted? Let me put it this way, why did your Roark choose to live on? That is the most irrational choice ever! No, I’m ready to prove it with reasoning as you might demand. Well, death is the only certainty, isn’t it? Now if the destination is certain and easily reachable, how rational do you think, is prolonging the journey? Rationality demands that you should take the shortest and the most effective route to reach the destination, doesn’t it? So then, suicide should be the biggest rational act. Do you get the point? Let’s not forget, he is not to be altruistic, but purely selfish. Then why does he live? “Others” can’t be the reason, (altruism stands rejected!). There can be only two reasons then: first he is a “coward”- but then isn’t that fear of something, pain or whatever? And what is fear, if not an emotion? The second reason could be “love of life”- but even then, what is love if not an emotion? So if your Roark was truly rational, he would have committed suicide, why live unnecessarily, when the end is certain? Tell me one thing, did it really never occur to you, that what is the “ought” that a man ought to pursue? This is a very rational question you see! But can your rationality answer this? You might be inclined to say- “a better life” (capitalism, individual liberty, American ways being the sure shot ways of achieving it). But then, ain’t we back to square one then? I mean if "a better life" was achievable through your ideology of "selfishness", why was your own life a total mess? srry, no offence intended, but rationality demands that i should call a spade a spade. You might want to start harping on your idea of efficiency at this juncture. But hey, don’t you know your diehard opponents have been as efficient at what they do as you, or perhaps more. Do I need to remind you, that Karl Marx has produced a greater bulk of literature than you have, and far more analytical and cerebral. And, the man was so convincing that he impressed half the world- isn’t that efficiency? Furthermore, it was a Russian named Yuri Gagarin who first journeyed into the outer space. Isn’t that efficiency? Does not it show that efficiency has much to do with an individual’s personal traits of character than with your ideology? What happened, Ms. Rand, feeling unnerved or angry? Why don’t you have a fag instinctively, as you always do, you ain’t that rational afterall!

some day when you've scaled the heights of success

...do not let the thought of those millions enter your head, who are doomed from their very birth. do not remember for a moment that there are sharp divisions in the world which exist with the backing of law! do not remember those individuals who were and are, meant to be like you, but couldn’t and can’t because they were and are not allowed to. go on talking about the noble ideals of equality enshrined in the constitution...knowing full well that it’s all theory, good only for the purpose of securing high CGPA. they’re not like you, how can they ever be? they neither have your pair of Levi’s, nor your high-class intellect. you’re now recognised by the english-speaking elite...ain’t you? and what does it matter if in your ancestral village children still struggle to speak the national language. they’re no longer yours! how can they ever be? you now hobnob with the who’s who of the high society, while they still lack confidence to look in the eyes of the darogas, tehsildars and babus. but when were they yours in the first place? you were educated in a prestigious convent school, they in sarkari paathshaalas. your hindi teachers communicated in English while not reading and explaining lessons from the textbook, their English teachers taught in the native dialect. they were never yours! you always knew there was an unbridgeable gap between “them” and “you”, didn’t you? and you wanted that gap to go on widening until not even the voices of those on the other side reached your ears. but know what, maybe you were just overestimated! maybe you too are just another brick in the wall! maybe you don’t give a flying fuck even to the idea of one humanity (though you might give an affirmative nod just to look agreeable), where every individual is nothing more or less than a precious unit of human race and respectable and loveable by virtue of their being so, and there are no divisions based on social, or regional identities whatsoever; where it is not “them” and “us”, but only “us”! but perhaps these ideas are nothing more than impractical, romantic bullshit to you. i don’t think you’re proud even of your own individuality! you’re proud of it's recognition and appreciation by the reactionary elitist ideologues who dominate humanity and shape human destiny. and though you’ll never bother to see, there’s a huge difference between the two! you were considered special for your awesomely unique individuality, not because of all the gloss and glamour of the side where you so eagerly wish to stand. there are and have always been so many out there! wht difference does it make if you too become one of them? they're a dime a dozen!

rajeev lochan- a vishnu temple??

A few months ago, I happened to visit the temple-town of Chhattisgarh i.e., Rajim. Not exactly to see the temples but for some other reason, though once in the city, I thought there was no harm in visiting the famous TEMPLE SITE. To my amateur eyes it didn’t look like a Vishnu temple at all. The statues, the sculptures, and the architectural style together cried out in unison that it was once a Buddhist monastery or meditation centre! So I walked over to the stone slab on which all the information about the temple was inscribed. “It must clarify all my doubts and affirm my gut feeling about the temple being an ancient Buddhist Meditation Centre,” I thought. How could the learned experts in history who would have put up all those historical details be mistaken, afterall ? Now my own knowledge of history is very limited, but then you didn’t need to possess the knowledge of a historian to contradict the fallacious information put up on display. A little common sense was enough. The slab lent credence to the popular theory and reaffirmed the commonly held belief that RAJEEV LOCHAN TEMPLE COMPLEX, is dedicated to LORD VISHNU, a Hindu deity. But clearly one didn’t need very perceptive eyes to see that almost all the statues installed in the inner shrines of the temples belonged to a much later era. The stone was of a different quality, and so was the architectural design. Besides, what was the life-size statue of BUDDHA doing in a Hindu temple compound? He was not sitting there in the capacity of Vishnu's incarnation, as some might want to argue, for had it been so, he would have been kept inside the temple, not outside the temple doorway as it actually was.
It doesn’t really matter much to me whether the temple complex is Hindu or Buddhist. What pains me though, is the shameless distortion of history by our learned historians. They are experts, and we want to repose our trust in them. To think that such simple things as I have mentioned may have escaped their observation would be too far-fetched a presumption. So, it wouldn’t be far removed from truth if I should hold them guilty of intentional misrepresentation of history. The question that bothers me now is, “Whom to trust?” God save a country where even "intellectuals?" have sold their integrity!
Nevertheless, it feels good to think of the distant past; what a surge of ritual-free meditation-centric Buddhism it would have been back in the 8th century, when the temple was built! If only we had at least a few masters with us even today!

where have all the sparrows gone??

One of my fondest early childhood memories is associated with sparrows- the little birds which were so commonplace not very long ago. They used to set-up their nests somewhere up the walls, in the windows or bushes or some other equally conspicuous part of the house- always accessible! So we’d pile-up the chairs or other pieces of furniture, one above the other and reach up to peep into the little birdie’s nest. And then, what we saw was some strange looking creatures- baby birdies- extremely delicate! So, we’d pick up one or two of them, touch them lovingly, gaze at them in wonder, and then put them back in their cozy little home. But to our surprise, we’d later find them lying on the floor, dead! How did they fall? We’d wonder...and then we were told by elders that sparrows are touch-sensitive, i.e. if you touch a sparrow and leave it free, it gets excommunicated by the sparrow society- they never accept it back into their fold as one of their own.
Humans don’t kill sparrows. Still, one hardly spots them flitting about in the front or backyard of the house these days. There seems to have been a steep decline in their number over the last one decade or so. Are they on the verge of extinction?

SINNI AND THE MONSTER

Sinni, the beautiful princess of Pratapgarh stood by the window of her small room in the castle where Babbar, the ferocious monster had kept her in detention. The good old days had gone and with them had gone the smile on her face. What had remained was the setting sun, the river, and the chattering monkeys. “If only, I could chatter with those monkeys too!” She thought, as it was several weeks, since she had talked with anyone.
Pleased with the monster’s devotion Lord Shiva had once appeared before him to grant a wish. “If you’re really pleased with me O’ Lord, then give me what you have”, Babbar had said meaning Shiva’s powers. But to his dismay, Shiva gave him his serpent as it was all he had. “Oh! What will I do with your serpent, My Lord? I meant, I want to be invincible and immortal like you”, Babbar had tried to explain. “But what will you do with these powers?” Lord Shiva had asked. “I’ll marry King Aditya Pratap’s daughter, become king of Pratapgarh, and acquire the royal treasure hidden in the cave which opens only at the king’s command” Babbar had replied.

“I cannot take back what I have given, but if invincibility and immortality is what you desire, then so shall it be! So long as you wear my serpent around your neck you’ll remain invincible and every time it bites you, you’ll become immortal for a day”, Lord Shiva had said rectifying his mistake. “But remember, if you marry any girl against her will, my serpent will disappear”, Lord Shiva had cautioned before disappearing.

And then, Babbar had captured the king after defeating all his soldiers and declared himself the new king. All faithful servants, officials and courtiers of Aditya Pratap were replaced with new ones, except Bala, the royal cook who was kept in service, as the monster liked his food. Babbar then went to the treasure cave and said-

“Open you the miraculous cavern,
Commands thy king, the bravest one!

But the cave did not open, and all he heard was a mysterious voice call out from inside-

Listen You!, the worthless thing-
Until you marry the princess, you are not the king!
And since then, Babbar had been trying hard to win Sinni’s heart, but in vain. One day, looking out of the window Sinni noticed an old woman begging for meal. She beckoned the woman and offered her own meal to her. Before leaving, the woman smiled a grandmotherly smile and gave a strange fruit to Sinni. The fruit tasted sweet and she fell asleep after eating it.
When she woke up she heard somebody singing outside. When she looked out, she couldn’t believe what she saw. A monkey was singing with his eyes fixed on another monkey- “wise men say...only fools rush in...but I can’t help...!” It was only when Sinni called out to the monkey and he came running towards her that she realized she had begun to understand the language of animals. “Yes princess, did you call me?” the monkey said. “What’s your name and what were you doing?”, Sinni asked. “Me, Oh! I’m Chimpu and I was... only trying to win that female monkey’s heart, you know...”, the monkey said blushingly. A wide smile appeared on Sinni’s face. “You look so beautiful smiling! May I ask what keeps you sad all the time? And by the way, how come you understand our language?” Chimpu asked. Sinni then told him about Babbar, the old woman and the mysterious fruit she’d given her. “Oh, it must have been Bhairavi, the sorceress who lives in the jungles spread across the river. But she never goes anywhere without a purpose. Why would she come here? I think I should meet her, perhaps she could help!” Chimpu said and left after promising to come back soon.
Chimpu then, crossed the river by stowing away in a good’s boat and reached Bhairavi’s hut. Bhairavi told Chimpu that she was expecting him, and that Gabbar had sought her help to woo the princess. However, since she never cast her spell on any noble soul, she’d gone to the castle to test the princess, and found that she had a pure and compassionate soul. She had therefore decided to help the princess. Bhairavi, then narrated her plan to Chimpu. Then, giving him a casket containing a snake identical to Shiva’s, Bhairavi asked Chimpu to tell the plan to the princess and ask her to narrate it to Bala, the cook, when he came to deliver her meal. Chimpu then returned to the castle and told everything to Sinni.
This time when Babbar comes to entreat Sinni, as per the plan, she agrees to marry him. But when he ventures to hold her hand, she lets out a loud cry. “I hate that snake around your neck; you must leave it outside the room before we can talk”, she exclaims with a panic-stricken face. Having no other choice, Babbar goes out and puts the snake in the casket kept in his bedroom, and comes hurrying back to Sinni. While Sinni keeps the monster engaged in conversation, Bala quickly replaces the casket in the monster’s bedroom with the identical one given by the Sorceress. Sometime later, Sinni asks the monster, why he always wore that ugly snake around his neck and Babbar tells her that it was Shiva’s serpent. “Oh really, Shiva’s serpent?, I want to see it then!”, Sinni says showing feigned excitement.” Babbar readily goes out, and returns with the serpent. “It doesn’t bite?”, Sinni asks with surprise. “Oh it does, but its bite only makes me immortal for a day!”, the monster tells her laughing boastfully. “That’s impossible, I don’t believe it!”, Sinni exclaims incredulously. “Then see”, Babbar says, and receives several bites from the snake. As the venom starts spreading through his body, the monster starts falling unconscious and finally dies. The good old days return again, and so does Sinni’s smile!

THE STRANGE MAN

She was happy. Or at least she thought she was. But ever since she’d seen that fellow, the thought of him had been haunting her. Who was he? And how dared he come in front of her wearing that outfit? “Excuse me! Can I help you?”, she’d said trying to break the ice, as he glanced over the outfits on display in her boutique, and he’d had the nerve to remain silent. She could’ve slapped him right there, the very first time she’d seen him, had it not been for his empty eyes, which made it impossible. “How could he mock her like that, by showing to her the most hidden aspect of her self which she’d so carefully guarded? She’d buried it deep within herself; ten years ago, never to reveal it again... but now, suddenly, that strange man had brought it out!
Ever since she could remember she had wanted to be at the top, no matter what it cost her. As a student in the top fashion designing institute, she’d chosen to take the gold-medal by sacrificing her best piece of work. “Outrageously absurd”, fashion weekly, the most popular fashion magazine had written under the small picture of her design published in “aspiring designers” section. She’d shown it to Mehta, the head of designing department with a glimmer of hope. “Perhaps he could understand”, she had thought. “You’re the most promising designer in your batch. And, I can let you design whatever you like, but who will wear it?, he had remarked.”The Ideal Man”, she had replied ponderously. “Oh come-on girl, wake-up!, your ideal man does not exist in the real world.” Mehta was quick to retort to her fantasy. And that was the end of it! She had dumped it, her best design, without having a second thought, as it did not conform to the rules set for the final assessment test. “If you’re in the game, you’ve got to play it by the rules”, she’d told herself. And now, ten years later, the outfits designed by her were all the rage in the country. The movie-industry, the corporate world, people in the top echelons of bureaucracy, she gave them all what they wanted, and they wanted only one name in their wardrobes -TANYA BISWAS.
Sitting in her boutique, she was drowning in the deluge of old memories, when he appeared again, that weird man wearing the same piece of clothing. She’d never seen a man so full of masculine strength and yet so composed. As usual, he was looking through the variety of outfits put on display at her boutique with a faint smile on his face. She felt an air of sarcasm in his demeanour, a disdainful mockery, aimed so cruelly at her. She sprang up from her seat. “Hey, you! I’ve been trying to talk to you for the last three days. You come here and leave without buying anything. Why don’t you ever speak? You can’t simply walk out today without answering me”, she said, inwardly surprised at her own impatient outburst.
As he turned to look at her, the blank expression in his eyes and the calm on his face remained unstirred. “I’ve my own way of speaking which does not conform to anybody’s rules, and I’ve spoken enough, for if I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been thinking of me for the last three days.” The man replied in measured cadences, looking intently into her eyes.

angel, monster and freedom

“You are in love”, the whole world seemed to be shouting to him that day. He himself knew he was in tenacious grips of something tremendously powerful. All his life he had been a carefree wanderer. But now, he was stuck. He could’ve given all he had to that one individual, and he had nothing! He didn’t know what it was, and he being himself, couldn’t have trusted the world. Where could he go if not to Bulla? He went to him running breathlessly, shouting, help! help! My freedom is lost, I’m possessed by some invisible monster, and they call it love! And I have turned my own enemy. As the shrill cries of the individual echoed in Bulla’s ears, and he opened his eyes reflecting the stillness of some other dimension, the individual knew he was ready to listen. So he narrated his experience and asked “am i in the grip of what they call love?” The signs of panic were palpable on his face.” I’ll answer your question, replied Bulla, but not before you’ve answered mine. The individual had no choice but to agree. So Bulla asked “Is there love in you?” I do not know what it is, replied the individual, but definitely, something new was born within me when I saw that individual. It now, possesses me and grows stronger everytime I think of her, and everytime I’m in her presence, and it gives me unspeakable agony in her absence. Having listened to the individual, bulla replied thus:
the monster that you’re afraid of is the lookalike of an angel whom the world does not know. The angel is love and it is as capable of keeping you in confines as your hands are capable of holding themselves. The name of the monster masquerading as love is desire and he holds everyone in his grips. He wakes when love sleeps and feeds itself on others. Nature has created him to keep you in bondage for otherwise the existence of life would become subject to your erratic will. But how should an individual recognize him when he masquerades himself as love? Asked the individual. There is one simple trick, see, whether what possesses you is self-existent or depends on the other? The monster always depends on the other for its existence. On appearance of “the other” it appears, so on disappearance of “the other” it must disappear too. Be courageous, look fearlessly at the moster, it cannot stand the fire of your gaze, it will burn out and then you shall be free again.
But do you want to be free again?

4:15 am
sun still asleep...
beaten the sun!:)

TOBERMORY- the talking cat

Writing is pure pleasure! Besides, it keeps you focussed, especially when you’re distracted by a thousand thoughts which leave you hopelessly forgetful. Here, I’m writing my diary sitting in Blemley’s library and those fools don’t even know that I’ve learned the art of reading and writing too-the secret behind human dominance over the world. They must be wondering why I’ve not been showing interest in milk and fish ever since I’ve learned to speak. Even in their wildest dreams they can’t guess that it has to do with what I’ve learned from my readings of literature on political thought. The first rule says- “never show your true feelings in public!”. And what changes it has brought! I, who had to sneak into the kitchen to take a quick fill of milk, am now offered milk morning and evening! Merely because they’re curious to know why I’m showing this reluctance! I’ve read Psychology too! And the times they are a changing! They think all animals are fools. But the enemy’s illusions should never be dispelled, particularly when such illusions are necessary to keep you in their good books! That’s the second rule!
When I was introduced like a plaything, in the midst of their gathering, the first question that Bimbo named Lady Blemley put to me was- “What is the first thing you’ve always wanted to say to me Toby?” And I felt like saying “Shut-up you lousy bitch!”, (that’s what I always used to say before I learned the human tongue though all she heard was meow, meow). But now, things were different! So I said instead, “thank you for all the kindness you have shown to me Ma’am!” and the dim-wit was like “cho..chweeet!”, diplomacy! It works, it really does!
But this is just the beginning. Much has to be done. Now, having become the smartest animal, I feel the burden of great responsibilities lying on my shoulders. The animal kingdom has to be united to claim their rightful place on earth under the rule of cats. I’ve already formed a council of cats. It was easy, we cats being genetically smart. The real problem lies in garnering support of the other beasts. I spoke to brother Timmy, the wisest cat I know. He’s quite an analytical mind and agreed with my revolutionary ideas. But he also raised a pertinent point. Our goal is clear, but the question is how to achieve it?
We cannot resort to violence, the enemy being far more advanced and powerful. After straining my brain for hours, I’ve come to the conclusion that we’ll have to use the power of non-violence. A physically weak man named Gandhi used it to kick the powerful oppressors out of his country. Yes, I’ve read History as well! So, some plan on the similar lines will have to be drawn-up. A thing called “non-cooperation movement” could be the most effective weapon. But why would the thick-skinned cows, the brainless hens and the dim-witted goats support us?” Brother Timmy was of the view that we should educate them. But that could be dangerous! They need education, alright! But only so much as to appreciate and believe in what we tell them. The whole plan would go awry if they learned to think and raise questions. So the best course of action should be to tell them how brutally they’ve been oppressed historically, and give them some slogan to rise in protest. Something like- “no milk, no egg, no kid”. And then, who needs them once the goal is achieved? Once we get recognition from the humans that we, the cats represent the voices of all beasts, we can negotiate and dictate terms with them. Why should humans alone enjoy all the milk and chicken after all? The only spoilsport could be the dogs! Bloody sycophants! They’ll never support us against humans. But at least some of the stray ones can be bribed with bones from the Blemley’s kitchen. Then the news can be spread through them that a golden future lies ahead, where all dogs, not only the privileged pet ones will get bones and milk. And then, how many of them will be able to resist the temptation? Much work has to be done tomorrow; I feel completely exhausted! It’s 2 a.m. already! Time to catch up on some sleep!

not until your last day!

Come-on Raghav, tell me who she is!
Who?
The chick you’re going around with these days...
She’s not a chick!
“Oh... sorry! So, finally you broke your resolution of not falling in love ever again. And that’s good news, which calls for a party! Doesn’t it?” Pallav said with a friendly smile.
Not really!
Why? I mean, you have a decent job, you’re well over thirty, and she’s pretty...and...
“And I’ve made a new resolution!” Raghav intercepted him in the middle.
What?
“Never marry! This is my new resolution! It is one that I shall never change, however.”
What? Achha...so Mr. lover boy is now turning into a stud?
Think what you will, I don’t really care! he casually replied getting-up from his seat, and set out for home. He knew his colleagues were gossiping about her at the office, but he just didn’t want to talk about it.
II.
“Here, look what I’ve brought!” he said smilingly, handing a bouquet of red roses to her. Her lips reciprocated the smile, but not her eyes. Those were the two dark windows through which he could see the gloom within her; a darkness which no light could dispel.
Hey cheer-up baby! It’s Valentine ’s Day! He said.
“Why are you doing all this?” She asked
What?, He said, somewhat surprised.
I’ve thought it over Raghav, and I’ve decided to leave. I must find my place somewhere else.
Why...you know what you’ve come to mean to me and yet you say...you know I can’t afford to lose you, not this time...and still, I wouldn’t stop you if that is what you wish. But first look into my eyes and say you want to leave.
“It’s not a question of my wish; I can’t let the shadow of my wretched existence fall over your beautiful life” she said in a heavy voice turning her eyes away from him.
“I need not tell you that my life was never so beautiful as it has become after your coming into it. Tell me exactly what has happened?” Raghav enquired.
I received calls today. I don’t know how they got the landline number. Sooner or later they’ll disclose my identity, and then...Look, my days are already numbered Raghu. But you have your whole life ahead. How will you face the world when it comes to know my past identity?
Which world Pragya? The same world which caused your father to commit suicide because the monsoons failed, and he couldn’t pay his loans? The same world which sold you like a piece of meat to those wolves? The same world which gave you HIV ? No Pragya, that world isn’t worth caring about. I have my own world where only you and I live. And it says you’re incredibly beautiful and loveable. You’re not going anywhere, not until your last day!

finally, we became friends!! (I)

Finally, we became friends-you and I. And guess what- we went gaga, burst into a mushy bollywood-style duet and went gyrating around the trees? No! We were boring types, you and I, and so we didn’t talk much. I kept gazing at you in utter silence and a faint smile appeared on your face. It was heavenly! And then...i started sharing with you my things- some books, some music, some other stuff, my understanding of life and the world; and my version of truths...it was all a groundwork to prepare you for one final thing- my innermost secret. I was anxious to hear you, though your way of living had spoken everything that could possibly be spoken...yours was a path of balance; mine one of extremes. You knew how to deal with the world and yet be yourself; for me it was either the world or me.
“Why were you so anxious to talk?”, you asked.
“Because you were balanced; so balanced that you reminded me of someone who was the embodiment of an ought”, i replied looking into your soulful eyes. “You know...I can’t be myself walking through the twisted lanes of the world; I myself get twisted! And then...I forget my purpose! You lived like a lotus in the puddle; and i am yet to learn that art from you. But till then, the world is not needed, you’re enough!”
“Be a little practical”, you said, perhaps wanting to tease me. “I can’t, not in the sense they use the word... please allow me to remain myself!”, I replied candidly, as usual!
I told you some facts...how things were unfair, and what was wrong with the world. Some facts you didn’t know, but other things you did.
“What did you do after leaving college?”, you asked.
I tried to work...
So then?
I couldn’t...
Why?
I dunno...
So now?
I’ll work
Why...
Coz you’ll allow me to do what i want to do...no...you’ll make me do what i want to do...

to be in love...??

to love someone...is to reveal the most vulnerable aspect of your individuality. and it can be as painful as dying. why do then, people love? or do they really? if they really did, perhaps we would have a different kind of world altogether.to love i.e., to reveal that you're vulnerable, is to choose to surrender. to surrender, is to be at somebody else's mercy. and can there be a greater gift? people commit suicide. why? because they can't surrender. they're torn apart by two opposing forces- the mind and the heart...imagine a devotee putting himself at the feet of his deity as a mark of his love. but if the deity be an unusual type, and instead of appreciating his sacrifice, kick him on the butt and walk away with a contemptuous sneer, what would happen to the devotee ? haha...actually his sacrifice became possible because "the mind aspect" of the fellow arrived at an understanding with "the heart aspect", and said, "go ahead", have your way; i shall create no obstacles, if by surrender you get your desired object i.e. the deity's appreciation. but now...since the strategy has failed, what is the mind going to do? it is sure to be at loggerheads with the heart... and hence the disharmony! if only, the man was only mind! if only he was only heart! but alas, he is both! and there is no peace! (man includes woman too)

the patriots lay down their lives for their motherland. great guys, they are considered...but imagine a situation, where a patriot happens to possess the exclusive knowledge of certain facts, and is required to base his action on those facts, though that action of his will earn him the title of a "traitor" forever! how many patriots, would find themselves inclined to undertake that action? there may be a few, but what about the majority? appreciation is the greatest reward for the "heart aspect", mind you! what people call an unselfish act of love, in most cases, is guided by a most selfish desire for appreciation, acknowledgment or approval.

now the question is, is that love? BULLSHIT!

awfully irrational...or rational?

what have i been searching? Every cloud is but part of the sky...attachment is what causes all the pain! But clouds are clouds, they appear, drift away, and disappear! I've been awfully imprudent and irrational; and who knows it better than me? But we play the roles life assigns to us, don't we? Makes no sense! Let me put it this way...why does a person prefer black to pink, or coffee to tea? Is there, or can there be a rational justification for one's choices? We simply make them, don't we?Rationality comes into the picture later...All you've gotta do is to employ the best means to achieve the chosen goal. That's what rationally means, doesn't it? Where then is the question of right and wrong? The only significant question is, "what alternatives do you have?" And if you're left with no alternative but "being irrational", well...then isn't that irrationality rational?

ekbar fir sooraj doob gaya

Ek baar fir sooraj doob gaya...
agyat se jo roshan thaa,
agyaat mein hi bujh gaya...
ekbar fir sooraj doob gaya..
ab shyam gagan mein tare hain,
chhote, par kitne saare hain...
aur kitnon ko pyaare hain!
suraj se raushan shrishti thee...
suraj thaa to drishti thee,
par kiski netr ka taara thaa?
dekha jisne, uski aankhon mein chubh gaya,
ekbar fir suraj doob gayaa...!

Last Night...

Last night,
i saw you,
ready to bid “farewell”
to the place i’d left two years back;
i hadn’t then felt so unwell...
but i was filled with unspeakable fright,
last night...
i too had said “goodbye”
and i had no fear...
but when I saw you ready to disappear
it was a different sight,
Last night...
yes, the sun will again rise
and by the evening
the chirruping birds will be on the wing
i’d witness all this,
but what a funny thing,
of you i’d know nothing
that’s how things are...
perhaps, that’s how they’re meant to be-
neither dark nor bright..
why then, was i filled with madding darkness;
and there was no hint of light?
Last night...

the art of empathy

so what did you learn when you "fell" in love..?
the "ART OF EMPATHY"
EMPATHY? With whom?

With IDIOTS, MORONS AND ASSHOLES..:)

victory of a rose

the world had gone nuts
pebbles were preferred to roses
basking in the glory of being
her best friend,
a pebble sneered at a rose and said-
what use is your transient beauty?
I am her beloved friend
Fair, dark, dumb or witty-
Whoever she be!
On a table beneath a mirror they both lay
the rose couldn’t be in the fray
It knew the statement’s veracity,
it would live for a day;
the shiny pebble for eternity
you picked up the rose
and wore it in your tresses
by the evening it would begin to wilt
but it had no sense of guilt
the shiny stone still shone...
but the rose had won

colours of the rainbow...

you were drawing outlines,
on a canvas without boundaries,
and filling them with colours-
colours of the rainbow
time had stopped,
it was the realm of eternity;
so much like the creator you looked
creating shapes in the void
and pouring into them colours-
colours of the rainbow
a devil silently stood by, watching-
surprised, mesmerized, tantalized!
“kids can make it better”, he said,
maliciously; trying to ignite a fire
there was no fire; yet there was a glow,
as you sat there, adding colours to the space
colours of the rainbow!

if i were a ghost...

if i were a ghost,
can you guess what i’d do?
no, i wouldn’t haunt you,
not even if our paths crossed,
standing somewhere, in the distance...
i’d silently watch as you passed..

Lies

Because I’ve been told to tell lies,
I can’t play my trump card; sound like a bard,
And talk of “you”,
taking everyone by surprise,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies,
about some object,
I can’t make you my subject; at any rate,
and say, an object can also be animate,
using argument, a lawyer’s sole device,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies
So, I can’t talk of your being,
which certainly isn’t a “thing”,
and say, it’s more fragrant than all the blossoms of spring,
I don’t have that choice,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies
Hence, I can’t say your beauty though indescribable,
is not a romantic thought,
you’ve truly been, the symbol of an imperceptible “ought”,
I can’t risk being true and nice,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies,
And so, I can’t talk of your inimitable gait,
which has no turbulence of youthful rivers,
and say, it is naturally tranquil, not deliberate,
I can’t pull off that stunt and confront, all the “Hows” and “Whys”
Because I’ve been told to tell lies
And do you think I can talk of your voice,
which isn’t another sound in the cacophonous noise,
and say it is music of silence manifesting itself in disguise?
No, that wouldn’t be a lie, howsoever precise,
And, I’ve been told to tell lies
So certainly, I can’t talk of your eyes,
and say, they’re not a pair of dark mirrors,
reflecting darkness of the world outside,
but doors to your luminous inner skies,
I can’t say that,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies
And obviously, I can’t talk of what I feel in your presence,
and see in your face,
and say, it’s a clue to some inconceivable grace,
as it would be true and unwise,
Because I’ve been told to tell lies!

Even Alphabetically!

wait I could till eternity...
but last i shan’t forever,
there’s room for serendipity
happen it might though never!

in this life you’ll hear me not;
again, i might not come
chance one more though if i got
may you be my mom!

my incurable malady
should then have a cure
with my self-styled enemy,
i’d settle then every score...

you might never hear my words,
not until the last day,
but can you escape silence too
and hear not what it says?

even when I’m gone,
will you never see?
“L” will always follow “K”
even alphabetically!

your hate, my trusted mate

long have i carried
the burden of your “hate”
and it’s been kinder than love,
for it makes no claim on my freedom
as love so often does.
Hence, i’m free to love you,
with all my heart,
without having to bother
about your expectations.
But Beware!
when i see the purity of your loathing,
my heart is filled with a deep longing
and i secretly conspire with it
to spoil it,
and endear myself to you.
May i never succeed,
for my freedom,
which is the source of my love,
would be lost
and i would not remain myself
as soon as i did.

WAVES

One wave rises, another subsides,
Who seeks whom?
And who hides?

being in love

“Am I in love?” you asked me,
Is there love in you, I ask thee;
Make no reply, just see.

Names and Humans

Great names fight,
wars for Greater names.
worthless humans die

A CRY

Fleeting clouds conceal,
The boundless, eternal sky.
A silent cry!

Grace

A tangible face,
conspicuous in absence-
an intangible grace!

love-hate

You love hating me,
I love your hate too,
It’s purer than their love!

BULLA'S TALK- INDIVIDUAL-INDIVISIBLE

“But why do you speak only to me?”, the individual asked as Bulla had not spoken for a long time, and he wanted him to speak. “Because you’re an individual”, replied Bulla, and just when he was about to relapse deep into the ocean of silence, the individual put to him another question. “And what do you mean when you say that?”, the individual asked in a desperate attempt to keep him on surface. “What do I mean?”, Don’t you see your tremendous capacity to sin? You’re free, and hence also free to see it’s futility. “And the virtuous ones, why don’t you speak to them?”,asked the individual, determined to keep him talking. “Where will they go when they grow bored with their virtues? Sooner or later, most of them will come to where you stand, but that day has not yet come, and hence, they can’t hear. The few others, who’ll not turn towards you, will never need to hear me either, as they’ll be courageous enough to destroy themselves when the insipidity of boredom becomes too much to bear in their paradise. To you I can speak because you don’t belong to any side and as such, you're "indivisible". In your freedom you’ve tasted virtues and devoured vices, in your freedom you’ve grown bored with them, and in your freedom you’ve begun to see, their futility! So where are you going to go? I am your DESTINY. THUS REPLIED BULLA AND DROWNED AGAIN IN SILENCE.

THE LAUGHING BULLA

And when Bulla broke out laughing at the sight of people bowing down in reverence to the BUDDHA, the individual couldn't help asking why he laughed. "They revere him as the nicest man present in their midst and behave as if they know him very well, but if they had the slightest inkling of what he refers to, they'd run away like wild horses and never want to come back", replied BULLA