Past and the Future tense
Hand in hand….
Hand in hand
We walk some
We walk some
x {…..
And as we go about
We part ways
We miss some
The memories
But a flotsam
On the path
We again gather some
We hold on
Hand in hand
We walk some
…… } return to x
A poem by Bhuchung Sonam
A poem I came across…
I have truth and no force
You have force and no truth
You being you
And I being I
Compromise is out of the question
So let the battle begin.
You may club my skull
I will fight
You may crush my bones
I will fight
You may bury me alive
I will fight
With truth running through me
I will fight
With every ounce of my strength
I will fight
With my last dying breath
I will fight.
I will fight till the
Castle that you built with your lies
Comes tumbling down.
Till the devil you worshipped with your lies
Kneels down before my angel of truth.
a poem by Bhuchung Sonam, an alumnus of M.S. University, Baroda. found it on a TOI page
At the barber shop..
Waiting at a barber shop is kinda cool.
There’s really nothing specific to do and you’re at your disheveled best. Everyone is! Guess there is a Mr Disheveled contest.
Each one out there is trying to figure out something to do while waiting to be trimmed. There’s stacks of film magazines, news papers and stuff which are not really interesting. To pass time however, there’s this mandatory exercise of flipping thru as many magazines one can get his hands on. The more picky ones would go for the newspapers, and some would also look for business newspapers… most average barber shops don’t even bother to keep them.
For me, at my average scissor shop, there’re no business newspapers and I certainly am at my dissheveled best. I might the best there is! There’s months of preparation & inertia behind it! The time when my family members start moving around me with scissors in their hands is when I realize my time is up! ‘Thou shalt go there or suffer here’!
Sitting out there with a few people, I just look out on the street – at the rickshaws, the cycles, buses, cars, vada waales, the hustle bustle of people moving about pointedly on what should be an ‘idle’ sunday afternoon. I wonder where all these people are going, what is going on in their minds, their stories, their struggles, their purpose…
I think about what causes such an infinite restlessness in an infinitesimal world. I get into a loop. I think further, I observe…
Amidst the noise, the chaos there’s so much peace. This peace is not found within the air conditioned confines of our offices, our homes. It’s only found when you spend time with yourself.
One of the polished diamonds comes out of the assembly line looking at the world in glee while pulling up his pants over his ballooned belly. His best efforts at covering his impending total baldness doesn’t seem to be working. The owner beckons me in with a wink.
My wait is over and I am about to be polished into a fine shining gem, a fine exhibit for the world. For a few months, that is!
For a permanent polish however, I’ll have to strive infinitely, consciously…
Slumbai
The dark clouds are pierced
As the nose dives
And cut by the silver wing
Appear the hues below
Of the dark abundant water
And the fresh foliage green
When suddenly, off a mountain top
With the swoosh of the silver sword
The green disappears
The water vanishes
A new canvas appears
And everywhere, sliced in half
Appear those little dotted
Vastly omnipresent tarpaulins grey and blue
I lean back in my seat
I close my eyes and sigh
I welcome myself
To the city of Slumbai!
What do you need…..
As the bus goes winding by
Thru the hills and the sunset
As you lie flat on the bed
Listening to ‘mora piya’ and the types
Relaxing, chilling
Enjoying, sentimentalizing
Sharing the only headphone
That one of you by chance remembered
Lying across
Feeling each other
500 miles away from home
Connected via a headphone..
Thru the hills and the sunset
As you lie flat on the bed
Listening to ‘mora piya’ and the types
Relaxing, chilling
Enjoying, sentimentalizing
Sharing the only headphone
That one of you by chance remembered
Lying across
Feeling each other
500 miles away from home
Connected via a headphone..
Abstract
If I could absorb you
You are as energetic as once I was
I could absorb your energy
Together, we would radiateIf I could look at you
And let myself be taken in
The world would cease to exist
I would just want you.
You are as energetic as once I was
I could absorb your energy
Together, we would radiateIf I could look at you
And let myself be taken in
The world would cease to exist
I would just want you.
My eyes would caress you
And glisten at your sight
Maybe moisten too
Time will cease to exist
My eyes would follow your every move
Your slightest movement, your lightest smile
Would be entrenched in
The camera of my eye
But I don’t remember when was
The last time I laughed
When, the last time
I had unabashed fun
My memories are but a dream
And dreams were so wonderful
But now they’d be always be
Unfulfilled
Wishes, and dreams
What, when, how?
Wish I knew the answers
All I wanna do is laugh
Atleast smile
Like those old days
When there was so much fun
There was such a wonderful I, always
Who’s since long bid a bye
Where is he?
Anyone seen him around?
If there’s someone I miss
It’s I
A dangerous twister, p’raps,
Landed me on another land
Where it’s you, where it’s me
Where everywhere it’s the sea
The beautiful Narmada river & the awful bridge
Again got a W/L for the weekend as always. But give up I don’t, do I? Even the AC buses were full. So got myself a non-AC seat for Mumbai – Baroda. Night was a bit cool plus some bucks saved.
We hit Surat at 3.40am. Baroda would be max 3 hours from then. Cool thus far. No issues. Estimated Baroda time @ 6.30 am… perfect for the morning tea in the balcony.
Until we hit the Narmada bridge traffic jam just before Bharuch. Kilometers upon kilometers! I believe they constructed a new bridge just a few years ago, but that’s weakened or whatever! So only one lane traffic …
I am already 3 hours in this mess.
This problem, I hear has been since quite some time. Last week all the exit roads from Bharuch were blocked because of this bridge, people were caught in a jam for hours in 43deg c temperatures!
But the administration doesn’t care hoots. “We have written to the govt” is the reply. Can you believe that – after months of a festering problem, all they can answer is that.
Just a very rough calculation on wastage:
5000 heavy vehicles in the traffic jam at any given time
Assuming 10% passenger buses with 50 people each
Total people in the jam @ 10,000
Avg time in the traffic: 3-4 hrs
Avg fuel burnt: 2 liters of diesel every hour
Total fuel wasted/hour: 20,000 liters diesel
Manhours wasted/hour: 10,000 hours
Now this is a tricky pipeline kinda problem with vehicles joining the jam and vehicles leaving the jam … but a very rough consideration will give you at least
Total fuel wasted per day: 480,000 liters
Total manhours wasted per day: 240,000 hours
Total cost of fuel wasted/ day: Rs 2 crores
Assuming manpower cost of rs 500/hr, cost of total manhours wasted per day: Rs 12 crores
(It is a separate thing that people and their time is taken for granted in India)
So total wastage / day: Rs 14 crores – at this single junction point!
Anyone listening? Incredible India? Garvi Gujarat, Mr Modi? How garvi is this?
Wonder why would the administration care. There is a separate car lane for them to scurry across.
Meanwhile for people in trucks and buses – well, they are not humans in any case. They seem to be cursed forever to kill time. For guys in non-ac vehicles, they have to additionally cope up with eating smoke, cursing their fate and the cars passing by!
Absent
I’m not in the present
I look into her eyes
As the music plays beyond
As she swings to the music
As we swing to the music
As everyone swings to the music
As we hold hands
Oblivious to the world
Oblivious to the music
Hands on each other
Face on the shoulder
As we groove
As we hold
As we love
I am in the present
I look into her eyes
Scattered across the hall
As I drain another glass
The rhythm is pounding strong
The beats are hurting
As the music plays beyond
As everyone swings to the music
As everyone dances to the music
And I am never in the present
Should I be in the present?
Na Kajre ki Dhaar
11.30 pm non stop bus from Vadodara to Mumbai, courtesy the usual ‘W/L1 CHART PREPARED’ on Vadodara express.
A long hectic chorexhausting day when nothing really came to fruition. Both Vodafone and Tata Indicom guys screwed up. Those guys (and all in the league) are born to screw – the customers. Held the line for hours, barged into their offices….but ‘sorry sir, the service has been activated but you got te wrong sim’ and ‘sorry sir, the service is active but something’s screwed up; the matter has been escalated’ … respectively.
The sveltering heat, medical visits, hour long waits, skipped lunch, out of fuel gruel, out of money and all that made for a very long day!
Icing on the cake: ‘W/L1 CHART PREPARED’
Flag down a rickshaw at 11.05pm and “Sir: dedh gunaa bhaadaa lagegaa, gyaaraah baj gayaa”.
A typical night. Empty streets. A few families heading home post social visits, a few vehicles parked at the icecream and pan vendors around town, some people loitering; smoke from burnt leaves and exhaust interspersed with dust creating wisps of yellow smoke beneath sodium street lamps & all of that which make a typical small town urban night air.
Amidst all this, the rickshaw wala ups the volume of a familiar old song setting the mood.
Na kajre ki dhaar
Na motiyo ke haar
Na koi kiya shringaar
Phir bhi kitni sundar ho,
Phir bhi kitni sundar ho
Man mein yaar bharaa
Aur tan mein yaar bharaa
Jeevan mein pyaar bharaa
Tum to mere priyavar ho,
Tum hi to mere priyavar ho
Typical night indeed. Very typical. I am whistling after a long time.