tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-341339802024-03-08T08:47:41.327+05:30Chai, Sutta aur Philosophy ki Kitaab...The Utopian Life, or is it?ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.comBlogger68125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-65713376378870968532011-05-18T17:52:00.003+05:302011-05-18T17:59:55.278+05:30सफ़ेदपोश<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 16px;"></span><br />
<div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: left;">अजीब चीज़ हैं ये गुलज़ार साहब भी...</div></div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">न जाने कमरे के कौन से कोने-अतरे</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">या दरवाज़े की चिंक से निकले चले आते हैं</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">जैसे कभी गायब हुए ही न थे...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">चौंक के देखो तो कहते हैं </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">"चेहरे के नक्श सब धुल गए"...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कभी तन्हाई ओढ़के </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">लेटे रहने का मन करता है,</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">जब आँखों की सीलन </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">जून की गर्म हवा में</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">टीस मारने लगती है,</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">तो पास आकर बैठ जाते हैं...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">सर पे हाथ फेरते हुए </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">पुचकार जाते हैं </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कोई नज़्म ज़बां पर लगाकर...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">पब्लिक में मिलो तो</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">हाथ पकड़कर भी अनजान बनते हैं,</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कहते हैं "मेरे बचपन में आप कहाँ पैदा हुए होंगे"...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">और फिर वही हाथ पकड़कर</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">वो परछाईं दिखा देते हैं सामने</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">जो सालों पहले देखी थी,</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">जब शागिर्द बने थे पहली बार...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">धूप में जलाकर साये बनाया करते थे जब आप...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कैसे लाते हैं अपनी बातों में इतना ठहराव?</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कभी डायरेक्टर बन जाते हैं तो कभी लिरिसिस्ट,</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">या स्टोरी/स्क्रीनप्ले/डायलौग राइटर...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कभी जो एक चीज़ में</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">चित्त लगा लिया हो ढंग से...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">लेकिन अकलमंदों के साथ </div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">यही समस्या रहती है...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">फुदकने का टैलेंट बहुत होता है...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">कवि का जामा पहन कर</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">तूत की शाख पर जा बैठते हैं</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">तो कभी फुटपाथ पर लेट जाते हैं</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">चाँद में रोटी ढूँढने के लिए</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">बुड्ढे दरिये की मुँह-ही-मुँह बड़बड़ाने की</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">आदत बयाँ करने लगते हैं...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">अजीब चीज़ हैं ये गुलज़ार साहब भी...</div><div style="font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: left;">सफ़ेदपोश हैं या नक़ाबपोश?</div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-22580928381127798172011-04-12T01:47:00.001+05:302011-04-12T01:48:10.426+05:30Release<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">तंग आ चुके हैं कश्मकश-ए-ज़िन्दगी से हम</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">ठुकरा न दें कहीं सभी को बेदिली से हम</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">हम ग़मज़दा हैं, लायें कहाँ से ख़ुशी के गीत</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">देंगे वही जो पाएंगे इस ज़िन्दगी से हम</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">उभरेंगे एक बार फिर ये दिल के वलवले</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">माना के दब गए हैं ग़म-ए-ज़िन्दगी से हम</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">सहिष्णुता की भी एक सीमा होती है... किसी की छोटी, किसी की बड़ी... मैं अपनी सीमा का माप तो नहीं भांप सकता लेकिन इतना ज़रूर जानता हूँ की सितम्बर २००८ से लेकर आज तक मेरा एक ही लक्ष्य रहा है - अपने परिवार, अपने काम और अपने निजि जीवन में एक बैलेंस लाने का...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">और कल ये सिद्ध हो गया की बैलेंस तो दूर, मैं अपने आप ही को बेवक़ूफ़ बना रहा था... आप दोनों महानुभावों से मेरी एक ही विनती है... मुझसे कोई आशाएं मत रखिये, क्योंकि पच्चीस साल में जो ये नालायक, निर्लज्ज व्यक्ति नहीं कर पाया वो अब न तो कर सकता है, न करने का इच्छुक है... मुझे मेरे हाल पे छोड़ दीजिये, मेरे बिना शायद आप लोगों का जीवन अधिक सुखद रहे, क्योंकि मुझमें आप लोगों की आशाओं को निराशा में तब्दील होने से रोकने का टैलेंट भगवान डालना भूल गया था...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br />
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</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Balance is a strange phenomenon</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For as the idiot physics maintains</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Force has to be equal on all sides</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">For the poise of the subject to be retained</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And yet, look at the funny side of things</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In life, the laws of physics cease to matter</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You pull from one direction, you from the other</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And the subject is torn asunder</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Caught in the crossfire</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">No escape from reality</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Except when he shuts its eyes to the pressures</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Turns its back on you in order</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To keep his mind in check</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You remind it every day</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Of how it has failed...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">In whatever role he might have taken on</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Here's one actor who can't do justice</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">The script goes awry</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And it can't seem to ad-lib</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You call it its irresponsibility</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It calls it the inability</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To play a role it is incapable of enacting</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A professional requires talent</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He has none</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">You call it its self-absorption</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">It whispers aloud</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">'I am trying to juggle with two forces of nature</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">A losing battle I fight everyday'</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">And then it gets a brainwave...</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Put out the light and then put out the light.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-74353652527377788522011-03-14T02:55:00.003+05:302011-03-14T03:30:51.307+05:30Lazarus<span class="Apple-style-span" >To borrow a phrase from Iron Maiden, 'maybe one day I'll be an honest man'... </span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Another year gone past without a post and suddenly, out of nowhere, the past seems to have caught up with this reader again... Gone is much of the vocabulary, having been replaced by the simplicity required by one's profession; and so too is much of the allusive imagery that used to be invoked in order to cloud the issue and shroud the meaning behind a delicate veil...</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Instead, the reader stands here today, redemption having been achieved in another form than the one considered to be the sole - purgatory.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >And yet, a glimpse through the blog has taken the reader through the infinite ebb and flow of emotions he went through back in the day... </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >A 21-year-old, taking baby steps into the realm of the unknown, began writing this blog on the basis of a whim, a desire to write, and some goading from a virtual stranger.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Almost five years later, the reader of this blog is bordering on 26, is well established in the profession he loves, the virtual stranger having become the most inseparable part of his life outside of his own body.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >And yet he finds inspiration in his younger, inexperienced self... The inspiration to return from the language of thought to the language that the heart spurted forth... The inspiration to put away the humdrum of life, to come back home from work and actually shut down Cricket2007 before completing a match, and to go back to that rather more mature pursuit he had left behind with his 21-year-old self...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Having been enveloped, as the young writer had hoped, in comfortable mists, the reader had perhaps failed to see through those very mists and look at the picture that was painting itself behind the curtain... That with everything looking 'settled', it was time to put the feet up and enjoy retirement... The shortcut to the end, as it were...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >But what the ghosts of 21-year-olds past brought flooding past the reader was the realisation that he had lost out on a lot of time in his pursuit of the mists... That the mind of the 21-year-old writer had not got left behind in time, rather it was still attached on the inside of the reader's skull, and was just coated in a thick, greenish-red layer of corrosion...</span></div></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Time, then, to shake off the rust and be Lazarus, come back from the dead, again...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Or if the reader, for a moment, be allowed to borrow his younger counterpart's image...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The Phoenix rises from the ashes. Again.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >If the virtual stranger be reading this post - hello shadows. what goes on here stays here. because redemption-reprise is back to being what it was and always should have been - an outlet for the reader and the writer.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >* * * * *</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >One bears guilt today. Guilt of the order that one had to actually confide in somebody, not something he is wont to do, in order to rest one's mind.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The young writer is not the only ghost of the past that has decided to pay Uncle Scrooge a visit. The old muse has returned to one's mind, for reasons unknown and unfathomable.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Blame it on the stalker/murderer who shot that poor girl. Had that not occurred, the red bricks, the grey sandstone and the green lawns would have remained a distant, unpleasant memory. Instead, all the ink that was blotted out of one's sheet has appeared again on the page, forming distinct words.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >Words that reflect old quests - like the old trunk in the attic that still holds the artefacts one stashed away in extraordinarily whimsical moments. Or like my other cupboard, in which one does find a skeleton or two.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >The human mind is a strange instrument...</span></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-85415355089552804862010-02-14T03:58:00.004+05:302010-02-14T04:43:39.281+05:30Valentine's Day, 4am... Musings and a cup of hot soup...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">427 days</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">That's how long it has been since I last wrote... Believe me, let alone this blog, I haven't WRITTEN for that long... Which is why it comes as a bit of a surprise, especially to me, that I am back here, tapping out words at an alarming rate, given the fact that the clock has already struck four.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Maybe Archies Gallery should take out commemorative cards for this too...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Perhaps what did bring me back here was a chance encounter with this blog again last week... When I set about reading those old poems, those old posts, soaking in the old emotions once again... Trying to understand the whys and hows of all those pieces that had poured out of me that long ago... Some things sounded downright funny, others took me back to the events that were detailed therein, or the thoughts that engendered those words...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Today, I stand here, making a living out of those very words that were honed here...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">And I look back at the vast expanse that spreads before me, creating a landscape of memories...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">If I am honest, I have neither felt the need nor the urge to write anything in these past 14 months... Shit, as I am wont to say, has not been flying... Therefore, nothing to report... After all, no news is good news and good news is no news at all...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But today, I feel a conflict building up inside me for some odd reason... Maybe it is the 1400-odd miles that stand between me and my funny valentine, but the old urge to write for myself seems to want to break its way out of the shell that I have imprisoned it inside...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Yes there is a part of me that resents the failings of the past... How every goal I set for myself at one point of time seemed a horizon too far, how a series of failures and half-baked successes stared at me everytime I looked into a mirror...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Then there is the idiot who still wants to wonder what could have been... What could have been if I had actually worked hard for the engineering entrances? What could have been had I stuck with English literature? Would I be a lecturer somewhere, or would it have been a case of the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">chaupaal</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> at Bahadur's or under the watchful eyes of Bibekanondo? What if I hadn't trusted the perpetrators of paedogate? Would I have been as bitter and as self-preservingly distrusting of all human kind? What if I wasn't born with the overwhelmingly natural compulsion to lie? What if I had chosen the other path at the most difficult dilemma-fork of my life so far? Would my life have been perfect despite the absence of an instruction manual which, incidentally, I was supposed to be?</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Too many questions... But I don't need to answer or speculate on any of them... If you have excess cash, be sure to take a punt, but I do not need to...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">For life, in the words of Ian Malcolm, found a way... Or three...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Leave aside the monetary or the beneficial aspects of being a sports guy... I am happy doing what I do, because I love it... I have not had to sacrifice any of my passions - rather, I get rave reviews for living them each day... I nibble on the bread that my words win me, my art lies in my differentiation...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">But perhaps, and I use this word guardedly, my biggest success has been MFV... At last count, four people counted me definitively as their best friend -- I count one. She is my goddess, for one paramount reason I do not need to hold back anything... All I need to do is be myself, without any compulsions of physical/mental/sentimental/habitual/verbal alteration, and she will take care of the rest... </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">For an attention-seeking egomaniac, each wave of attention, followed by a swift kick in the pants, serves as a reminder to soar as high as one can afford, before returning to </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">terra firma</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"> when the low-fuel lights begin to flash...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">Let Tantin call me what she wanted to, because here is the latest horse this beggar has bought...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';">This V-day, this post is for you M... Long may it last...</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', papyrus, arial, helvetica; font-size: x-large; "><b>My Funny Valentine</b></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', papyrus, arial, helvetica; font-size: x-large; "><span style="font-size:85%;">~ By Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart; Vocals by Frank Sinatra</span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', papyrus, arial, helvetica; font-size: x-large; "><span style="font-size:85%;"><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'trebuchet ms';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'comic sans ms', papyrus, arial, helvetica; font-size: small; ">My funny Valentine<br />Sweet comic Valentine<br />You make me smile with my heart<br />Your looks are laughable, unphotographable<br />Yet you're my favorite work of art<br /><br />Is your figure less than Greek?<br />Is your mouth a little weak?<br />When you open it to speak, are you smart?<br /><br />But don't change a hair for me<br />Not if you care for me<br />Stay little Valentine, stay<br />Each day is Valentine's Day...</span></span></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-79398563421310323422008-12-14T23:31:00.003+05:302008-12-15T23:54:00.964+05:30मौत, एक कविता...<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">"क्यूँ मुहँ लटकाए खड़े हो भई?"<br /><br />"कोई अपना गया है... नाचूं उसके जाने की खुशी में?<br /><br />ज़िन्दगी भर </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">ज़िन्दगी </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">से लड़ते-लड़ते कमज़ोर पड़ गया था वो...<br />आखिरकार ज़िन्दगी ने क्या नहीं फेंक के मारा उसे?<br /><br />ऐसा लगा कि कोई एहसान रह गया था ज़िन्दगी का उसके सर<br />जिसे चुकाने में आना-कानी कर बैठा बेचारा<br />या फिर ऐसा तो नहीं था, कि किसी का कुछ बिगाडा हो<br />और ऐन उसी वक्त ख़ुदा उठा हो अपनी लम्बी नींद से<br />और नज़र आ गया हो उसे वो शख्स<br /><br />अब ख़ुदा पर तो कोई क्या ऊँगली उठाये<br />लेकिन नानी हमेशा कहती थीं<br />कि अगर सच्चे मन से माफ़ी मांग लो, तो ख़ुदा का दिल भी पिघल जाता है<br />लेकिन कहने को तो वो ये भी कहती थीं कि अच्छा कर्म करो<br />तो फल बुरा हो ही नहीं सकता<br /><br />फिर क्यूँ ऐसा हुआ कि दुनिया को खुश करने वाला<br />कल चिता पर लेटा था<br />और पूछनहारों कि क़तार में कितने मगरमच्छ खड़े थे<br />ये भी वो ऊपरवाला ही जानता होगा<br />अगर उसकी आँख फिर न लग गई हो तो...<br /><br />ख़ैर, ये सब बातें भूलिए साहब, इनमें रखा क्या है<br />इंसान की फ़ितरत तो सिर्फ़ इतनी है<br />कि जो सामने होता है, ध्यान उसपर आ जाता है<br />जो गया, वो कितने वक़्त तक दिमाग़ में घर बनाये रह सकता है बेचारा?<br /><br />कुछ आंसू बहेंगे,<br />उस सोते हुए ख़ुदा को कुछ लोग कोसेंगे...<br />ज़िन्दगी चलती जायेगी<br />आखिरकार<br />साँस लेना एक ऐसी लत है जो छूटे नहीं छूटती<br />जो छोड़ पाया, उसे क्यूँ न ख़ुदा बुला लें?"</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-91249339508404225262008-11-22T05:10:00.007+05:302008-11-22T05:54:20.620+05:30Dirge for the departed...<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">They make it so easy in the movies</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">With the background music, the parting shot</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And the walk away</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">If only you, cinema, could be penned</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">By the hand of one that is greater than us</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">How incoherent would you be?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">This is the way the world ends</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Burns out, doesn't fade away</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">One moment is frolic, grins and teeth</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Another, a flickering candle</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">To be put out, with a huff of breath</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And leave just the faint aroma of burning wax behind</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Yet, as you walk away</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Light up your cigarette and remember the times</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">You shared your lives, like those stubs within</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Each needs to be put out</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">But leaves the ashes behind</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">To be scattered on the drain tomorrow morning</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And then, within the losing cause</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Comes the phase when its rendezvous again</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">There is no pain</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Really, none at all</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">"Iron entered his hitherto kindly soul"</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It was a long pointy sword</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And so the Phoenix falls again</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Mortally wounded, and unlikely to return</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Yet rebirth is inevitable</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Burn brighter, O golden one!</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It is you who will turn the diamond-studded blackness grey</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">This is your chance to shine, shine on!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Burial at sea</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Beneath an epitaph</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">On a tower of silence</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Or just a gift to the flames</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And time for all the greens</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">To ignite their fragile selves</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And leave the residue behind</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Yellow.</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-4608452530900057172008-10-28T03:25:00.003+05:302008-10-28T03:33:46.953+05:30दीवाली<span style="font-size:130%;"><span>आप</span> <span>सबको</span> <span>मेरी</span> <span>ओर</span> <span>से</span> <span>दीपावली</span> <span>की</span> <span>अनेकानेक</span> <span>शुभकामनाएँ</span>...<br /><br /><span>प्रार्थना</span> <span>करूँगा</span> <span>की</span> <span>लक्ष्मी</span>-<span>गणेश</span> <span>सदा</span> <span>आप</span> <span>पर</span> <span>आशीर्वाद</span> <span>बनाये</span> <span>रखें</span>, <span>आपके</span> <span>जीवन</span> <span>में</span> <span>खुशियों</span> <span>का</span> <span>प्रकाश</span> <span>फैले</span>...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-size:85%;"><span>और</span> <span>ये</span> <span>मेरे</span> <span>लिए</span>...<br /><br /><span>रौशन</span> था जो एक दिया जहाँ में, हवा से बाज़ी हार गया<br /><span>पटाखों</span> की गड़गड़ाहट के बीच उसे दफ़नाने की बारी है<br />रात कमरे में घुसकर खुशियों का गला घोट गई<br />यही <span>अमावस</span> <span>की</span> <span>रात</span> शायद कलयुग की <span>दीवाली</span> है</span>...ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-9254971790275279752008-10-10T20:58:00.004+05:302008-10-28T03:24:24.966+05:30Keeping the Faith...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For a believer to be together with an Agnostic is a pretty tough ask... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Picture this:</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> SOMETHING, ANYTHING goes wrong...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Believer:</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Have faith in God, my dear, he'll make things right</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">or</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fate follows a Sine Curve, love. You've hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Agnostic:</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Yeah right, who created that trouble in the first place? YOUR GOD!</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">or</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Fuck your trigonometry... I hate this GOD who's such a SADIST that he can't get enough of fucking up everyone's happiness...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Now what does the believer do? Agree with him/her and lose her/his own faith in God? Wait till the storm passes over and things return to normalcy?</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">This is EXACTLY when Gulzar comes in handy... At least, he did for me...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >ख़ुदा</span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" > - </span><span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >४</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">पूरे का पूरा आकाश घुमाकर बाज़ी देखी मैंने--</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">काले घर में सूरज रख के,</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">तुमने शायद सोचा था, मेरे सब मोहरे पिट जायेंगे,</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मैंने एक चिराग़ जला कर,</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">अपना रस्ता खोल लिया</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">तुमने एक समन्दर हाथ में लेकर, मुझ पर ढेल दिया </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मैंने नूह की कश्ती उसके ऊपर रख दी</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">काल चला तुमने, और मेरी जानिब देखा</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मैंने काल को तोड़ के लम्हा लम्हा जीना सीख लिया</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मेरी खुदी को तुमने चन्द चमत्कारों से मारना चाहा</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मेरे इक प्यादे ने तेरा चाँद का मोहरा मार लिया--</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मौत की शह देकर तुमने समझा था अब तो मात हुई</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">मैंने जिस्म का खो़ल उतार के सौंप दिया--और रूह बचा ली</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;">पूरे का पूरा आकाश घुमाकर अब तुम देखो बाज़ी</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-7060473965642314262008-09-24T02:10:00.001+05:302008-10-28T03:23:28.218+05:30फ़रमान<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">चैन</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">धरती</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">छोड़कर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नहीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मिलता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ना</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">किसने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ये</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सोचा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">था</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कि</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">परलोक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कस्टम</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अफ़सर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मिल</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जायेंगे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">?</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सूटकेस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">छोड़</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">के</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आना</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">था</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">प्लेटफार्म</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लेकिन</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आख़िरकार</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पीछे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नहीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">छोड़</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पाया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मैं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">क्या</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">करता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुछ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">क़ीमती</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">चीज़ें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बाकी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसमें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इन</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कमबख्तों</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उन्ही</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आब्जेक्शन</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लगा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">दिया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">टी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">शर्ट</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मिली</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुछ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पसीने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">से</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">महकी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हुई</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लाल</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रंग</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">का</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तौलिया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जिसमें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">से</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नमी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">गायब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नहीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हुई</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तक</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सिगरेट</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">का</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आधा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अधूरा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पैकेट</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">के</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">दो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">टिकट</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">माया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">की</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">निशानियाँ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">वापस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">करनी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कलश</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मिला</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मामा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">की</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अस्थियों</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">का</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">माँ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">के</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आँसुओं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">से</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भीगा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुरता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मिला</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">डब्बा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भरकर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">गंगाजल</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">था</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अपने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तर्पण</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">से</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">चुराया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हुआ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ये</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सब</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">चल</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जाता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लेकिन</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सूटकेस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुछ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">किरचें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बरामद</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हुईं</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तेज़</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नुकीली</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">किरचें</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कभी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ज़बान</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आकर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अटक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जाया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">करती</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थीं</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कभी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">गले</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">खरोंचें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मारती</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">चलती</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">थीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">किरचें</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुछ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अधूरी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नज़्मों</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">, </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कुछ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">टूटे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ख़्वाबों</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">की</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इसीलिए</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">शायद</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मुझे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> '</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">परगेटरी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">' </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रखा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">गया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">है</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">खुदा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">के</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">फैसले</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">के</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इन्तेज़ार</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हवलदार</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मुझे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लेकर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रहा</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">है</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कोर्टरूम</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">और</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सामने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भूरे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रंग</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">का</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">शौल</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लपेटे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उस</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">न्यायमूर्ति</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ठोक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">-</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बजाकर</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">फ़ैसला</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कर</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ही</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लिया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">एक</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">महीना</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हुआ</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">नहीं</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जन्नत</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">की</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">दहलीज़</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पार</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">किए</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">और</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">फ़रमान</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सुना</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">दिया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">दोज़ख</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">में</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पहुंचाने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">का</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">क्या</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">भी</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जीना</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">माया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ही</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सिखलाया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">था</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जानता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">है</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">वो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">की</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">माया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ने</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मुझे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">देख</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">लिया</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">तो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">उसका</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">पत्ता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कट</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जाएगा</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">जलता</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">है</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">वो</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">मुझसे</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">...</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-4164344019138322692008-09-24T02:06:00.003+05:302008-10-28T03:23:28.219+05:30इजाज़त<span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><em>(An ode to my Guru, Gulzar-sahab's eponymous film... written on August 2)<br /><br /></em></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इस इजाज़त पर आकर कहानी ख़त्म नहीं हुई<br />अभी तो सिर्फ़ सुर्ख़ सूरज दिखाई दिया है पहाड़ पर<br />सात बजे की गाड़ी फिर कमबख्त लेट है...<br /><br />सुधा दूर प्लेटफ़ार्म की घड़ी के नीचे सो रही है<br />अपने पति के काँधे को बालों से ढककर<br />जहाँ एक तिल होना तो था, मगर हो न सका...<br />सुधा, जिसने क़ुरबानी दी थी मेरे लिए<br />आज ख़ुश है, मगर रोई बहुत कल रात<br />शायद मेरा आना ही उसके लिए ग्रहण बन जाता है<br /><br />जब दादू ने पहली बार फ़रमान सुनाया था शादी का<br />फूट-फूट कर रोई थी सुधा, न जाने क्यूँ<br />क्या उसे मालूम था की उसी दिन छिन रहा था उसका सुकूँ?<br />जब में शहर गया, तो मन में सुधा थी, हाथ में अंगूठी<br />जब वापस आया, तो शायद भूख खा गयी थी दोनों<br />क़ीमती चीज़ें अक़्सर भूख मिटाने में मिट जाया करती हैं...<br />सुधा भी मिट चुकी थी...<br /><br />माया से मुलाक़ात हुई, तो लगा ज़िंदगी ने गले लगा लिया...<br />रात की कालिख़ से लुका-छुपी खेलने का शौक़ तो चाँद को भी होता है<br />पर माया... माया इशारों पे नचाना जानती थी उन्हें<br />लफ़्ज़ के मानी पूछती थी, फिर उन्हीं की झड़ी तय्यार हो जाया करती थी...<br /><br />मैंने जब पहली बार पूछा शादी के लिए, तो सुधा का ख़याल नहीं आया...<br />आया तो माया का जवाब - की बदसूरत बच्चे मुझे पसंद नहीं<br />और एक ख़त भेज दिया मेरे नाम...<br />'हंसाओ मुझे' लिखकर...<br />खेल खेलने का शौक़ था न तुम्हें माया?<br />लो, हार मान गया मैं, अब तो आ जाओ!<br />कहाँ छुपी हो? हाँ, बादलों के बिस्तर पर सो रही हो...<br />अपनी बचपन की दोस्त, मौत के साथ...<br />तुम दोनों का प्यार आखिर जन्नत तक पहुँच ही गया<br /><br />फिर कल रात, वादी जब भीग रही थी बारिश में<br />सुधा से टकरा गया, उसकी ज़िंदगी में एक और रात बनकर<br />शायद वो पावर-कट भी यही याद दिलाने को था<br />ख़ैर अब हाथ में सिगरेट लिए मैं जनरल का<br />और तुम फ़र्स्ट-क्लास का इन्तेज़ार कर रही हो<br /><br />तुम्हें इजाज़त देने वाला मैं कौन हूँ सुधा?<br />इजाज़त तो मुझे तुमसे लेनी चाहिए थी<br />तुम्हें घोल के पी जाने से पहले...<br /><br />राहगीर हूँ, मुसाफ़िर हूँ, आज यहाँ तो कल कहाँ<br />इजाज़त मुझे माया से ले लेनी चाहिए थी<br />ताकि बिना बताये मिलने जाने का बुरा न लगता उसे<br />ख़ैर, अब तो मिलने जा ही रहा हूँ<br /><br />लो! ट्रेन भी आ रही है...<br />सुधा, इजाज़त?<br /><br />मैं, महेंद्र, जा रहा हूँ<br />एक छोटी-सी कहानी, कुछ सामान<br />कुछ क़तरे आवाज़ के छोड़कर<br />इस सूटकेस में...<br />खाली हाथ, माया के पास... </span><br /></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-60977770309233071692008-09-08T00:14:00.002+05:302008-10-28T03:24:37.217+05:30Anger Management<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Why is it that people HAVE TO ruin my good days? All good and sunny from 7am to 11pm then KA-BOOM, and shit flies...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Bubbling with gall</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lava on rise and fall</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Drive your head against the wall...</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Piece of shit, FUCK IT ALL!</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-40435777244243065152008-09-04T02:47:00.005+05:302008-10-28T03:23:39.994+05:30Redemption Requiem<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >And so the circle is complete...<br /><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >There stands Prufrock again<br />At the bottom of the stairs<br />Bald, rail-thin<br />Still fumbling with his peaches and tie-pin<br /><br />But on his way out the door<br />The party's over<br />Michelangelo lives<br />To be discussed tomorrow...</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >The suitcase still lies on the platform<br />Nowhere is he to be found...<br />The clock strikes 2 A.M.<br />It's been years since he's gone...<br /><br />Taking refuge in some corner of a dark alley maybe<br />Darkness, the old friend, has embraced him again<br />The lure of the world gave up trying </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >to seduce him</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Other willing partners for this mime have been found...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >The curtain drops on the show<br />The public leaves, murmuring about the performance<br />In a crescendo of engine sounds<br />Screeching tyres and clouds of dust...<br /><br />Dust, dust again...<br />He likes to breathe it, when he can...<br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Ash, ground in dust<br />Ms Fire, thou hast done well<br />The half-lived life<br />A life well-lived...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Tired of lying in the darkness<br />He emerges</span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >, billowing smoke<br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;font-size:100%;" >Crumples it underfoot<br />No stub.<br /></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-17011196273720490202008-07-27T18:12:00.004+05:302008-08-10T17:16:45.258+05:30Dr. Lecter's Tale...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Streets lined with puddles of standing rain</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Speeding along through the night</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Headlights illuminating the gathering vultures</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">In the middle of monsoon</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">There sits the Doctor</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">His feast ready to be devoured</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And yet, before the cannibalism</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Comes the necrophilia</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He kisses the corpse</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Becomes a statistic in her book</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Number 22, and possibly the last...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He can feel the anguish on her contorted face</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He can yet smell the molten gold on her breath</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">She won't breathe no more...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Dead, Dead, Dead...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The hungry Doctor</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Bites into the soft flesh</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Devours her at speed...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">And then the poison in her veins begins to creep over him...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">He clutches at his throat,</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Falls back</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Dead, Dead, Dead...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The vultures swoop down</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The moon is eclipsed...</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">R.I.P Dr. Hannibal Lecter...<br /><br />I drive on into the night,<br />Home, home again...<br /></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-16358948288732623022008-07-20T22:08:00.001+05:302008-07-20T22:23:58.584+05:30The Exhaust Tale<o:p></o:p><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />Strange nights, these</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Spent in wait</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Jitters that travel up and down the spine</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The phobia of a dark room</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Staring up at the ceiling</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">A vast expanse of movie screen</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The smoke from the projector</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Flashing images in grayscale</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The cool breeze touching the surface</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Fever</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The enterprises of great pith and moment</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Where the silhouette raises the blade</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And spurts Rosso Corsa</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Onto the sheets</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The eternal wait for the war to end</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">When slings and arrows</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Would cease to matter</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The silhouette dares to dream</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And yet the flowing red snaps him back to reality</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Some say he has no mind, no soul</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And that the last time he breathed</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Was in King Arthur’s time</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Waiting to exhale</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Waiting for goodness to embrace him</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The goodness of carbon monoxide</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">To engulf him, envelop him</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Global warming.</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-53782875838786515182008-06-26T18:39:00.006+05:302008-07-20T22:24:06.412+05:30Devils, Outcasts, Old Men...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Those amongst us that have read Dan Brown's "The Da Vinci Code" will probably remember how the author alleges that the Roman Catholic Church went on witch-hunts to keep the secret of the Holy Grail... That women were specifically targeted and demonized so that no one would believe the story that Mary Magdalene ("The Prostitute") was, in fact, the Daughter-in-Law of God....</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">It did come as a shock to the church, and all its believers who protested against the book, since their beliefs were based on the absolute infallibility of their beloved </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Vatican and the Pope. But then again, one can't really say for sure, since versions of history are more open to interpretation than modern archived fact... Who knows, for example, if the Knights Templar were actually sinners, rather than the heroes they were made out to be by Mr. Brown...<br /><br />Speaking of fallen heroes, let us spare a moment's thought for the men who, about 25 years ago, defined a nation with their underdog achievements. Knights, like the Templar, who in the last 25 years, have been forgotten, remembered, ostracized and humiliated by the modern version of that all powerful, "hand of God" organization, the BCCI. Of course I refer to that band of 14 merry men, led by the Robin Hood from Haryana.</span> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdfLzIRFIK0ozoX-395QJx-oJJnr-1EPc6k5DcwHSZbBpYjb71jd3L2tY1GPtZHuJ9CxH1_jb5D01QLrUBHDV216aJJ4UOKga3Ziz6pa_IbYMEQyTpjeuPpKo9YsYYCR71sFT/s1600-h/1983.gif"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216190925888370370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJdfLzIRFIK0ozoX-395QJx-oJJnr-1EPc6k5DcwHSZbBpYjb71jd3L2tY1GPtZHuJ9CxH1_jb5D01QLrUBHDV216aJJ4UOKga3Ziz6pa_IbYMEQyTpjeuPpKo9YsYYCR71sFT/s400/1983.gif" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">"Kapil's Devils" fired the imagination of a generation. For a country that has always struggled in sporting arenas across the world, they brought with them the tag of "World Champions". As every news channel in this country has already pointed out, they "Lorded" over the "Mecca of Cricket". This </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">was the team which made cricket what it has become in India, and consequently, the world today. Think of it this way - had June 25, 1983 been another West Indian triumph, there would be no IPL, no ICL, no Champions League, nothing. There would never be enough money in cricket, compared to the millions and billions in Soccer, Basketball and suchlike. That victory was what made the Indian cricket fan buy into the sport, fill up the seats, watch it at 3 am on TV LIVE from the Caribbean and allow every corporate worth their salt to dip their hands into cricket advertising.</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />On the Silver Jubilee of the cup, the old men, some of them now Granddads, go</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">t together again, and everyone in the Indian media was there to interview them, with the same, pedantic questions... How did Ballu Sandhu manage to bowl the perfect inswinger to dismiss Greenidge? What was Kapil thinking of when he took the famous "running backward</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">s" catch off Viv Richards? How did "Mr. Trivia" Sunil Valson feel about getting a winner's medal, despite never playing a game?</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Even the BCCI hosted a gala event, awarding everyone 25 lakh rupees each for their achievements. But it was a funny sight to see Mr. Pawar standing next to Kapil, about 2 days after insisting that no one with any links to the ICL would be allowed to play in the Champions League, and threatening English counties towards the same. And the irony, it seems, was totally lost on the Indian public...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br />Kapil Dev Nikhanj, the World Cup winning captain, the centre of all attention, heads the breakaway league, with colleagues Sandhu, Madan Lal and Sandeep Patil as coaches. Each one of them has been mercilessly targetted by the Board for stepping "out of line"... Their pensions have been stoppe</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">d, and perhaps it was only after Sunny Gavaskar had twisted a few arms in the organization that the Board actually decided to save face and "honour" the players... What we have here, ladies and gentlemen, is another case of "history repeats itself", albeit on a smaller scale... Pope Pawar XIII, along with his cohorts - Bishops Modi, Manohar, Shah and the like, is out to get the old devils...</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">What the Indian public should understand after this episode, is </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="FONT-FAMILY: trebuchet ms" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lbiBFY3KYJNAj4IilT6zXVgsR_iWYPUjFZ0_m99Rm7T9JOwgSjSJtpMpch9j8sHGgv4Rq65zGDhZHR2ndDCMqaywxZwHNFMwFBPK2wM0csUbLR4gD8AsDNHVoTBi-CP_AfFQ/s1600-h/91495.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216191611665462466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lbiBFY3KYJNAj4IilT6zXVgsR_iWYPUjFZ0_m99Rm7T9JOwgSjSJtpMpch9j8sHGgv4Rq65zGDhZHR2ndDCMqaywxZwHNFMwFBPK2wM0csUbLR4gD8AsDNHVoTBi-CP_AfFQ/s400/91495.jpg" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">that the Board, which was just about bankrupt in 1983 and would've remained were it not for the efforts of these men, has become a conniving, hypocritical organisation, driven by profit motive, which has understood how to milk its cash-cows, the players. An</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">d like any Yankee farm-owner, it will shoot the cow that strays onto another's pasture.</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> </span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">But at least for a few</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> days, people like Gavaskar and Shastri, the morally-correct lay preachers, were reunited with the Devils, and thank goodness that after the media glare, the BCCI and everything else thrown at them, they got their old boys' reunion in the long-room at Lord's, far from the madding crowd. And ofcourse, justice was delivered...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">The Holy Grail of World Cricket once again found its way into the hands of our own Mary Magdalene/Satan, one Mr. Kapildev Ramlal Nikhanj.</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-30187912400971100862008-04-25T01:27:00.003+05:302008-05-10T19:37:25.109+05:30The Obituary...<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It was fun when it all began</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Fresh-faced teens on a red-brick background</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He spotted her wearing a green pince-nez</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And thought to himself 'what a snob!'</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >A month was all it took for pride and prejudice to deconstruct</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >As he decided to play Antony; she Cleopatra</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Through the initial rough and tumble he survived</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But the seeds of his hamartia had already been sown...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She came to him soon enough</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And there were two hearts beating as one</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She was his first love</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And the world was full of Dutch tulips...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Iagos abound in this world, so he found out soon</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But who was to blame but himself?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Like the old ram, he had dug his own grave</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And, Peripeteia occured...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She left him for another, he wrote</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And engulfed himself in love of the Red</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She had indeed moved on, hated him</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And there was no contact...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >It was histriomania that landed them back in a room</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He apologised, she forgave him</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But reserved judgment on his past</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The quest for redemption had begun...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He tried to bide his time</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He tried to be her friend</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He tried to pry her loose</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But knew, it was a losing battle...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >A sudden swing in fortunes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And he was back in the running</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Maybe the Old Man had something to do with it</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But he would never know...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >They drifted apart and floated together</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Grew up into the twenties</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >His heart still had a reservation for one</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >She was destined for bigger things...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >One day, the break came</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The least he could do was say goodbye</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >'Be cheerful sir, our revels now are ended'</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And that was the end...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Or maybe not, for she still cared for him</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Called him up one fine morning</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Reestablished the connection that should've been left broken</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And up went his hopes again...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But she had moved on again</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And that left his journey for redemption unfinished</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Till the next break happened</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Which took another bit of him away...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >He was finally the man she would've wanted him to be</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But alas! She wasn't there to see</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >The knight was riding in shining armour</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >To hide, perchance, or put up a front...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And yet again, that primitive form of communication popped up</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Telepathy, destiny, fate - it has many names</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >But this time he was firm in resolve</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:trebuchet ms;" >And managed to put it across to her...</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >"</span></span><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:Verdana;font-size:100%;" ><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> I want you to know it's a little fucked up,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That I'm stuck here waitin', no longer debatin',</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Tired of sittin' and hatin' and makin' these excuses,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">For why you're not around, and feeling so useless,</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It seems one thing has been true all along,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">You don't really know what you've got 'til it's gone,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I guess I've had it with you and your career,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">When you come back I won't be here and you can sing...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Where'd you go?</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I miss you so,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Seems like it's been forever,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That you've been gone. "</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">That was when he breathed his last, that man</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">It was as if a debt had been paid</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">He could finally breathe easy</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Easy come, easy go...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">He had forgotten that he was Faustus</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">The man who had sold his soul to Lucifer</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Mephisto came to him and said</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">'Its time, my friend...'</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Wander the depths, Faustus</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Find solace, if not redemption...</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">For thou hast left and gone to hell</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And I wish thee a warmer Farewell...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">They say Beelzebub is a benefactor</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Not the Fair Lord up above</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">May the fire not singe thy coat of fur</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">But even if it does,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">'habit is a great deadener...'</span><br /></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-5077603280892330572008-04-04T13:05:00.005+05:302008-05-10T19:38:25.411+05:30Let the Madness Begin!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtPhSL53sOkbfxxDTbzbemjDGl-HAFRvgqk-_GXpnEDkg7BqON0i1bjKMW-kKYnGr6arSh4CiOdC8Xh7HgpLsVFNoyNSTdL-9fNtvz-bIpmj3TPAT-5xgBIR3tv9wshR0Ypkt/s1600-h/KolkataKnightRiders1024by768.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxtPhSL53sOkbfxxDTbzbemjDGl-HAFRvgqk-_GXpnEDkg7BqON0i1bjKMW-kKYnGr6arSh4CiOdC8Xh7HgpLsVFNoyNSTdL-9fNtvz-bIpmj3TPAT-5xgBIR3tv9wshR0Ypkt/s400/KolkataKnightRiders1024by768.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189376813799009266" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><div style="text-align: left;">And so after all the hype, the hoopla, the drama, the gazillion dollars, and everything else that spells P-O-M-P under the sun, the Indian Premier League will finally get underway on April 18. Now, call me a traditionalist, but I tend to think that Test Cricket is being violated, nay, slow-poisoned by all these upstart T20 tournaments. Be it the OFFICIAL one or the REBEL ICL, what with the high-bass music, the dancing babes, or the handsome hits to- and over-the-fence, the traditional straight bat has been chucked out of the window overlooking the ocean... (Read: 'has been left to sink')<br /><br />Come to think of it, THIS, my dear reader, is the evolution that Darwin talked about... How an old species has to adapt to changing conditions or else, face extinction... It remains to be seen whether Test cricket, the true test of strength and character, turns out to be a Dinosaur...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">But then again, the show must go on... And the show, undoubtedly, is Twenty20 cricket... Blessed be the Englishman who invented the game of cricket, and blessed be the other one who thought of this ridiculous idea to shorten the game to 20-overs-a-side. Doesn't seem too ridiculous, does it now, especially with Lalit Modi at the helm? Here's some food for thought for those who call the IPL a waste of time/money/talent... Would Vijay Mallya invest his millions in a doomed project? Uh-huh, sonny boy, I DONT THINK SO!<br /><br /></div></div>The best part about the ICL/IPL concept is actually borrowed from the Americans - the concept of city-centered franchises and the rivalry between them... This is a concept that actually polarizes the urban audience as per their geographic allegiance, which, if my reading of human history is correct, has been the reason for the 2nd highest number of wars in history (the 1st being ofcourse, religion). This helps generate more interest, brings out the performer in every player, and also makes an outsider playing for the team more selfless - since he plays for the AUDIENCE and their energy... THE FAN IS KING!<br /><br />And what the teams have realized is that sports are for young people... Their marketing strategies are centered around colloquial usages, and packages that would attract the youth. SRK's proclamation of KORBO, LORBO, JEETBO for his Kolkata Knightriders franchise was the seminal moment, when the IPL brigade went under-25. Its all about the Passion, it really is...<br /><br />Passion is, ofcourse, where DADA is... Mr. Sourav Chandidas Ganguly, the man who wore his heart on his sleeve as captain, the one who defined a generation of Indian cricket... Add to that, the passion of Shah Rukh Khan, the Mark Cuban of IPL, throw in the glut of talent, and what you have is a team worthy of a fan-following, even before a ball has been bowled...<br /><br />KORBO LORBO JEETBO RE!!! GO KNIGHT-RIDERS!!! :-D<br /></div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-79425403891589080252008-03-22T23:26:00.002+05:302008-05-10T19:47:07.670+05:30Ramblings in the Interior...<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Frustration is cruel to the subject's mind</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Cruelty is inbuilt into mankind</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Mankind's favourite pastime is chatter</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Chatter is what monkeys do, it don't really matter...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Matter is used in physical science</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Science is used to clearly demarcate philosophical lines</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lines are drawn on maps to separate countries</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Countries are threatened by global warming, save trees...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Trees are useless unless its Spring</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Spring up to the top with a zing</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Xing is a variant of the Hyundai Santro</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Santoro is also the name of a Tennis Pro...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Pro or positive feelings are not things with whom I associate</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Associates are the ones who you call when you're late</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Lately though, they never reported it to the boss, something i hated</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And now I am frustrated...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Moral of the story: When you're mindfucked, life is circular...</span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-57995147230252292462008-03-20T04:12:00.002+05:302008-05-10T19:38:14.490+05:30A Quarterly Report, The Usual Musings, and A Tribute to The Wonder Years...<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">And so I'm back after a long, long hiatus, come back from the dead to tell you all... I shall tell you all...</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Not that you'll be interested, but if you are in the habit of reading other people's blogs, read on...</span><br /><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Anyway, so here I am, two days short of 3 months into my first job... And its been so far, so good... I'm doing what I love most, SPORTS, and may the revelry continue... Albeit in a different medium... Nothing against mobile phones, nothing at all, but I would much rather be in front of a camera, covering sports for television... But if wishes were horses etc etc...<br />So the quarterly report would be rather profitable... Coz I feel it is broadening my horizons as far as progress ahead and upwards is concerned... Enough about the workplace...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And so, it has been six months... Diwali is now a distant, bitter memory, and Holi is around the corner... But in here (pointing at the fuckin brain), nothing much has changed... Its weird, its funny, but I cant really find a reason for this constant fixation... I mean FINE, I loved her, SOMETIMES she loved me too, for cryin' out loud as the Americans would say... But shouldn't there be an inbuilt mechanism somewhere within the grey matter that can flush out these unwanted memories???<br /><br />A couple of days ago, I had a weird dream... Dunno what Freud would've interpreted it as, but it was freaky... I saw her, and I saw her offspring, say 10 years hence... And for no rhyme or reason, there was a reunion - a flashback to those moments which still linger in the vicinity of this bloody brain... That too, just as I thought I was actually beginning to turn my thoughts towards someone else...<br /><br />Bottom line - I still miss you Meiya... U r, and perhaps will remain the only one... The only one in front of whom there were no masks - the only one who ever knew Shreyas Sharma, not Big Daddy...<br /><br />Or, in the words of the legendary Pablo Neruda...<br /><br /><table style="font-family: trebuchet ms; text-align: left; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: auto; color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-style: italic;" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="100%"><tbody><tr><span name="KonaFilter"></span><td valign="top" width="20"><br /></td> <td valign="top"><span style="font-size:100%;"> Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<br /><br />Write, for example,'The night is shattered<br />and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'<br /><br />The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.<br /><br />Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<br />I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.<br /><br />Through nights like this one I held her in my arms<br />I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.<br /><br />She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.<br />How could one not have loved her great still eyes.<br /><br />Tonight I can write the saddest lines.<br />To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.<br /><br />To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.<br />And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.<br /><br />What does it matter that my love could not keep her.<br />The night is shattered and she is not with me.<br /><br />This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.<br />My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<br /><br />My sight searches for her as though to go to her.<br />My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.<br /><br />The same night whitening the same trees.<br />We, of that time, are no longer the same.<br /><br />I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.<br />My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.<br /><br />Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.<br />Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.<br /><br />I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.<br />Love is so short, forgetting is so long.<br /><br />Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms<br />my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.<br /><br />Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer<br />and these the last verses that I write for her. </span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">* * * * * *<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">But then again, all is not dark and thorny... Nothing ever is, actually... Nothing lasts forever... Even my relentless pessimism... No, really... Although I've had a bit of outside help, over the past 3 months of my Mobile ESPN sojourn... After the fiasco(s) @ IIMC, its been great to find Rocket/Raju/GK2Junkie, Khyali, Wrik and Shreeja</span><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;">... </span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">What with </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Raju's aversion to tickling, the stupid/smart Khyalism<span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;">s, </span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">which often lead to paroxysms of laughter,</span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"> Wrik's smart-ass observations (Chelsea fan, after all!) and Shreeja's gang-leader act, LIFE'S GOOD, FOLKS!<br /><br />Thanks for all the booze and the good times, guys... I can just appreciate it by humming something from my fave TV Show of all time, The Wonder Years...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> What would you do if I sang out of tune,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Would you stand up and walk out on me?</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Lend me your ears and I'll sing you a song</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> And I'll try not to sing out of key.</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Oh, I get by with a little help from my friends</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> What do I do when my love is away</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> (Does it worry you to be alone?)</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> How do I feel by the end of the day,</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> (Are you sad because you're on your own?)</span><br /> <br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> No, I get by with a little help from my friends</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Mm, I get high with a little help from my friends</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms; font-style: italic;"> Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends...</span><br /></div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-76819912228229446632008-01-08T20:47:00.000+05:302008-03-20T04:36:00.959+05:30Gentlemen, the game is dead!<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Happy New Year to anyone who might've lost their cyber-way and landed up here... Doesn't seem a very happy one where I am - a wannabe sports journalist in a cold, foggy city, 15 days into his first job, covering the biggest controversy to have befallen Cricket since the time when Mike Denness' mama couldn't keep her legs together!</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, Messrs Bucknor and Benson had a horrendous test match... And Bucknor can't stand at Perth...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, Harbhajan Singh was banned for three test matches, for calling Andrew Symonds a monkey...</span> <span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, Ricardo Ponting and his team won a record equalling 16th-consecutive test...<br /><br />Does that mean the passionate Indian cricket fan should participate in his neighbourhood protest rally and burn effigies? Should the BCCI cancel the tour altogether, since 'unfair treatment has been meted out to our team, and the Indian national pride has been hurt'? Should Ponting be pressured to relinquish captaincy owing to his team's growing behaviour issues? Was Kumble right in saying that only one team played the game in the right spirit? Was he wallowing in self-pity? Are Indians crybabies - as seen in the South Africa series in 2001 under similar circumstances?<br /><br />Too many questions, too few answers available... But we maybe ignoring the most important question of them all...<br /><br />Is this what the Gentlemen's Game is coming to? Racism, Sledging, Intimidation, Mind-Games, Allegations, Counter-Allegations, HEARINGS and suchlike?<br /></span><div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Before I begin with the crux of the article, let me issue a small disclaimer... If you think that I am an Anglophile or a Traditionalist, well so be it... I am none of those... All I am is a cricket fan, and this is my vision of cricketing utopia, and dystopia...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Okay so Australia are a dominant side in World Cricket and no one comes close to challenging them nowadays... But what has given rise to this muck is their attitude towards their opponents... They treat the defeated as beneath contempt, and do not even seem keen to interact with them... Australia have been dominant for a long time now, but this is a more recent phenomenon, perhaps as recent as the last 3-4 years. It is not as though they were saints before that - on the field, there was no team who played mind-games like the Aussies or their captain Steve Waugh... But no series ever got to the level of being called off, 'JUST' because of 7 bad decisions in a test match and two players taunting each other in, shall we say, 'unparliamentary terms'...<br /><br />The problem with the Aussies, and in particular with their captain Punter, is that they are perfect examples of the saying - 'power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely'... Now consider this, Punter and his cohorts all came into the team AFTER the era of Aussie dominance had begun... And they went on getting hungrier, since nothing succeeds like success itself... But with the control they had over everyone on the field, they inadvertently started thinking of themselves as lords and masters off the field as well... Gavaskar hit the nail on the head, when he asked what right Ponting had of claiming to be an honest fielder, when he stood his ground upon nicking the ball in the first innings? How is a fielder's word trustworthy but not a batsman's, when both are the SAME INDIVIDUAL! But Ponting asserts that this is a TRIVIAL MATTER BLOWN OUT OF PROPORTION! Is this guy sleeping?<br /><br />Symonds, on the other hand, is that bully you knew at school... He has been known to verbally assault his opponents, and has never, in my memory, shook the hand or even acknowledged an opponent's 100, unlike most other cricketers in the world... There is not a courteous muscle in the man's body... And yet, every time someone stands up to his bullying, be it the opposition or the crowd, he takes advantage of being of West Indian descent and cries 'RACISM'... There are various forms of racial abuse in the world, all equally contemptible, but taking advantage of your ethnicity to get another person/group reprimanded for returning your on-field abuse ranks perhaps second lowest on the scale, to bonded labour...<br /><br />The West Indies dominated world cricket right from the 60s under Frank Worrell, to Viv Richards in the 80s... Most players of that era were descended from either Afro-Carribean or Asian ethnicity... They had the most fearsome bowlers in history, and perhaps till eternity, in Wes Hall, Andy Roberts, Malcolm Marshall, Michael Holding, Joel Garner, Courtney Walsh and Curtly Ambrose... How many of them ever uttered a word to the batsman, let alone question their parentage? You may argue that there was no way to find out, since there were no rules and no policing/refereeing at the time... Yet there is a way to find out - ask the batsmen - Sunil Gavaskar, Geoffrey Boycott, Graham Gooch, Zaheer Abbas, Glenn Turner - they are all alive and can vouch for it...<br /><br />All I'm trying to say is, when the Brits invented this game, they called it the Gentlemen's game... A languid, elegant 5-day affair that was played at the empire's outposts by servants of the crown, more than in the home country... But its devolution over the last 10 years has been drastic... Cricket has become more akin to Pro Wrestling than the game of personal or team brilliance... And Punter, has led the way...<br /><br />Much like George W. Bush has led the world...<br /><br />...to Apocalypse... Now...<br /></div></div></div></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-64217421551666701522007-11-30T00:28:00.000+05:302007-12-23T23:30:02.219+05:30Encompassing November in One Post...<div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic;"> We've been through this such a long long time</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Just tryin' to kill the pain</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> But lovers always come and lovers always go</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> An no one's really sure who's lettin' go today</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Walking away</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> If we could take the time to lay it on the line</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> I could rest my head</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Just knowin' that you were mine</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> All mine</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> So if you want to love me</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> then darlin' don't refrain</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> Or I'll just end up walkin'</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"> In the cold November rain...<br /></span><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;">- Guns N Roses, 'November Rain'</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></div><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>And so, yet another November has gone past... Another December is upon us... And here I am, after a month long hiatus, 'come back from the dead to tell you all'... That, as you might have guessed, is another line from Prufrock... I've begun to sound like Bertie Wooster now, harping on his Scripture Knowledge Prize from private school...<br /><br />The last few days have been spent coughing my insides out... I think the viruses that live rent-free inside me finally decided to stage a revolt against my constant efforts to fumigate them out... And their mutiny seems to have succeeded, with the doctor having advised me to quit smoking with immediate effect... <span style="font-weight: bold;">BREAKING NEWS: Shreyas Sharma quits smoking</span>... (Falsified information is not something journalists should convey, but who cares on a blog!)<br /><br />So anyway, here are three posts I have written during the course of this month, but not actually happened to publish them...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The following poem was written sitting in a hotel room in Goa with a hangover... Perhaps you didn't know that I went to Goa for 3 days with my cousin Richa and our friend Aditya earier this month... The first night, we visited a little beach-shack called 'Island View'... This poem talks about the experience, and the lunatic's ramblings inside the head...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">NIGHT AT THE BEACHFRONT<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">A beach<br />A dirty moat with tadpoles around it<br />Chicken Xacutti at the opposite end of the table<br />And the old, faithful Red with the Monk and the Coke</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">There we are<br />Sitting around a table with a palm tree growing through it<br />Old Santan making incredulous faces<br />At the requests we heap on him<br />'Treble large for everyone'<br />Feelin’ groovy is the Old Monk</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">The sound of the approaching tide<br />Louder and louder<br />Does it want a piece of the liquid action too?</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">They leave for the hotel<br />Its just me and you now, Red<br />Like it always is<br />Your comforting touch<br />As I slip further and further into Euphoria and beyond<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">La Vita E Bella</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">The urge fills me<br />To walk into the dark horizon<br />To feel the salt all over me<br />Encrusting my matted hair<br />Burial at sea<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">La Vita E Bella</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%;">No end in sight<br />To this resolved crisis<br />Godot is in the house.</p> </div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span>(03/11/2007)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">* * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">After the enjoyable Goa experience, and a diwali celebrated with family and Chandru in Jaipur, one came back to the grind of the capital... And as is to be expected in this season, very soon thereafter, there happened to be a wedding one had to attend... It was a fourth cousin's wedding, a supremely boring affair, and doubly frustrating, since one had to drive 2 hours in a maddening traffic jam, all the way to Vikaspuri, then another hour n 15 mins back home... And no chicks to look at even... Damn! So the frustration poured out of my heart the next day in class in this form...<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center; line-height: 150%;" align="center"><u><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:14;" >How </span></u><u><span style="line-height: 150%;font-size:14;" >The Great Indian Wedding is a Farce<o:p></o:p></span></u></p> <div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: justify;">Hundreds of people, the best clothes, jewellery, expensive gifts for the groom and the bride, tons of food gulped down greedily and the usual <i style="">bandwallahs-ghodiwallah-tentwallah</i> nexus. Welcome to the spectacle known as the Great Indian Wedding.<o:p><br /></o:p></p><div> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">What, though, is the purpose of this ceremony? If you live in Delhi, and have done so all your life as I have, you might be inclined to think that pomp and show was the real purpose behind the whole shebang. Others may lead you to believe that it is a way for all the scattered branches of the old joint family system to come together and celebrate a grand event in the life of the family. Quite acceptable. Then there is the ‘official’ reason – ‘please grace us with your presence and bless the newlyweds’. All three possibilities are equally acceptable or unacceptable, depending on your point of view.<o:p><br /></o:p></p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;">Personally, I question the very basic of this ‘solemnization of vows’ or whatever horse-shit we’ve been fed in our lives. A ‘wedding’, to me, is supposed to be a ceremonial walk around the fire seven times in order to grant a public-license to the man to have sex with the woman. And the <i style="">gharaatis</i> and <i style="">baraatis</i>, the family and friends on either side, are just there as witnesses to this official license, so that the woman cannot turn around and scream ‘RAPE’ later. The food, of course, is the bribe that needs to be given to them in order to make them swear the oath. After all, <i style="">unhone aapka namak khaya hai</i>!</p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><o:p></o:p>And what of the bride? She is, in most cases, supposed to give herself to a man whom she has never seen. On top of it, her parents were (are) supposed to pay the groom to screw her all his life. Then, she has to bow down and touch the feet of every damn <i style="">chacha-chachi-mama-mami-phupha-phuphi-padosi-and-padosi-ka-kutta</i> that have come to witness her subjection. Most of whom aren’t even worthy of being greeted when you see them in the street. And then they pass judgement – ‘<i style="">iss behtar bahu nahin mili aapko</i>’?</p><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><div style="text-align: left;"> </div><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-align: left;"><o:p> </o:p>Maybe I am too biased against marriages, or maybe I’m over-reading into the situation… But the next time you go to a wedding, which will be quite often in the next few months, dressed in all your finery and carrying an expensive gift for the newlyweds, think – what will they gain out of it and what will you?</p> * * * * * *<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">And then, there was the December-syndrome-come-early this time... As early as November 6, the night I returned to Jaipur from Goa, in fact... Life comes full circle every year for me... It has done so once again... Only this time, as I wrote in my old poem 'Another Phoenix', there are no ashes for me to rise from again... Only a little bullet lodged in my head, shot from the lip that I was once attached to...<br /><br />Why is existence such an absurd series of unanswered questions? Why doesn't the comfortable embrace of death envelope you when you most need it? Why didn't life ever give me a second chance?<br /><br />Maybe this is what life is about... Its like the cruise on the Mandovi, where I made friends with Troy... Two glowing cigarettes and a discussion on Bill Gates' driver... And then, the show's over folks...<br /><br />But as I always keep telling myself,<br />The Show Must Go On...<br />And so I promise,<br />I'll face it with a grin,<br />I'm never giving in...<br />On with the show...<br /><br />Coz nothing lasts forever,<br />Even cold November Rain...<br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-69283200560549237442007-10-23T22:20:00.000+05:302008-05-10T19:46:51.235+05:30A Vision, A Beautiful Dream...<div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Winter kept us warm, covering</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />Earth in forgetful snow, feeding</span> <span style="font-style: italic; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br />A little life with dried tubers.<br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><br />Brown dust covering the horizon<br />Yellow leaves embedded deep in their dry graves<br />The rocks and the solitary cactus<br />The beautiful landscape of this painting<br />Everyday is a little death<br />'Fear no more the heat of the sun' wrote the Stratfordian<br />There is no fear, no pain<br /><br />The red torrents of howling storms<br />A vision, a beautiful dream<br />The blue corpses strewn about over the plains<br />Fate, thy bounties abound<br />While thou smil'st upon us<br /><br />When I look into your eyes, Princess<br />I see my life, played<br />A million times in an infinite loop<br />A circus act, jumping through the ring of fire<br />Earning applause for burning the flesh<br />For acting the part you have assigned to me<br /><br />Barren, fallow, waste<br />Lies the earth under my feet<br />And rocky contours inside the skull<br />They talk of Spirituality<br />And the Art of Living<br />Its very complicated you see<br />Breathing in the brown dust with one nostril<br />And exhaling the plumes of gray with the other<br />Global (heart)warming<br /><br />Was this what Cassandra envisaged?<br />A Nietzscheian God<br />An Eliotesque land<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span></span></span>A weeping Satan<br />An incarnate of Lucifer<br />A minstrel Mephistopheles<br />A sadist<br />A masochist<br />A pessimist<br />And Humble Polonius<br /><br />Congratulations, fellow lunatics<br />The beautiful mind<br />Is now sterile<br />At last, a worthy existence...<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span></span></div></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-69858456090840097522007-10-01T00:04:00.000+05:302007-10-01T21:23:26.700+05:30कुछ लफ्ज़, मतलब की तलाश में...<span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><div align="center"><em>उसके दुश्मन हैं बहुत<br />आदमी अच्छा होगा</em></div><div align="center"><em>वो भी मेरी ही तरह<br />शहर में तन्हा होगा...</em><br /></div><div align="left"><br />लोग कहते हैं कि मैं बहुत बोलता हूँ... सब के सब ऐसा कहते हैं, इसलिये सही ही कहते होंगे... कुछ मुझे extrovert कहते हैं, कुछ बड़-बोला... पर कितने लोग शान से ये कह सकते हैं कि वो मुझे सच-मुच जानते हैं? मैं असल में कौन हूँ?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">यह ऐसा सवाल है, जिसका जवाब आज तक मुझे खुद नहीं मिला... जब waiting for godot पढा था, तब इस phenomenon के लिए एक नाम मिल गया - existentialism... बस तब से इसी existentialist crisis का बहाना, और साथ ही Prufrock के मुखौटों का वास्ता देकर अपनी सच्चाई से लगता है खुद भाग रहा हूँ... क्या इसका कोई अंत है?<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">अगर कोई अंत नज़र आता है तो वो है आत्म-चेतना यानी self-realization... लेकिन वो मेरे बस का टंटा नहीं... मैं तो रहूंगा वही escapist/extrovert...<br /></span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></span><br /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">* * * * * *<br /></div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रफ़ी साहब जैसा फनकार सैंकड़ों सालों में एक बार आता है... पिछले दो घंटे से उनके गानो की playlist बना के चलाता जा रहा था... एक गाने पर आकर रूक गया... गीतकार कैफी आजमी का लिखा, सचिन देव बर्मन का संगीत-बद्ध किया ये गाना उस महान फिल्मकार गुरुदत्त की ज़िन्दगी की सच्चाई है... और शायद मेरी भी... </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /></div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"></div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">देखी ज़माने की यारी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बिछडे सभी बारी-बारी...<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />क्या लेके मिलें अब दुनिया से </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आंसू के सिवा कुछ पास नहीं </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">या फूल ही फूल थे दामन में</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">या काँटों की भी आस नहीं<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />मतलब की दुनिया है सारी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बिछडे सभी बारी-बारी...<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />वक़्त है मेहेरबां </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">आरजू है जवान</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कल की फिक्र करें</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">इतनी फुर्सत कहाँ<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />रात भर मेहमान</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हैं बहारें यहाँ</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रात गर ढल गयी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">फिर ये खुशियाँ कहाँ...<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />पल भर की खुशियाँ हैं सारी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बढने लगी बेकरारी...<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />उड़ जा उड़ जा प्यासे भँवरे</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">रस न मिलेगा धारों में</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">कागज के फूल जहाँ खिलते हैं</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बैठ न उन गुल्ज़ारों में<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />एक हाथ से देती है दुनिया</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">सौ हाथों से ले लेती है<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />ये खेल है कब से जारी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">हाय</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बिछडे सभी बारी-बारी<br /></span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br />मतलब की दुनिया है सारी</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">बिछडे सभी बारी-बारी...</span></div>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-30020948312554794732007-09-22T18:36:00.000+05:302007-09-23T19:11:28.741+05:30The standing ovation and the aftermath... O-14 rules!<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;">Saturday morning, 0345 hrs… Sitting and typing at Karma’s place… You wouldn’t know of him, he’s from IIMC… English Journalism to be precise… And I can see the aftermath of an Ocean’s Fourteen (ORIGINAL, isn’t it?) meeting all around the room… Bodies strewn all over the place, sleeping of course…<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p>Alcohol does funny things to people… Take our Abhishek Mukherjee for example… Another IIMCian, normally the voice of reason among the motley crew… 3 pegs of McDowell’s Number One later, he was at stage five… Which, for the uninitiated, means he was DEAD DRUNK… Unfortunately for the rest of us semi-sober ones, that meant four hours of non-stop rambling and ‘I’m not drunk man!’… That too without puking, which could’ve helped him… And us… But alas! It wasn’t to be… He kept on and on and on and on… About everything under the sun… Of course, bastard that I am, I kept asking him pointed questions whose answers I knew would provoke genuine mass hysteria…<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p>Then there was Chhoto (name changed even without the request)… How he drove to Ganga Dhaba shall remain one of those unsolved mysteries… Coz as we were to find out, whisky + vodka + weed had made him ride a mental horse… He was better than Mukherjee, for sure, but then, if one were to choose between the devil and the deep-blue-sea, you would be Faustus, wouldn’t you? Tottering along nicely was he, though thankfully, better sense prevailed and Nishant drove everyone back…<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p>And then there was Father Teresa aka Big Daddy aka yours truly… 3 large Old Monk shots and the patented ‘Daaru humesha sach bolti hai’… Trying to impose his opinion on the party regardless of the topic – be it the age old Rafi or Kishore debate or why Tendulkar is still the greatest… With the odd ‘Nain ladd jayihain’ thrown in to emphasize whatever it was he was trying to emphasize… The only ingredient missing was the usual hyperventilation of the ego with an ‘I’m the Best’… But taking on responsibility is his forte, as he would have you believe… With two drunks already among the party, somehow he managed to sober himself down, and take care of them… Hence the name, Father Teresa, in the words of the other ‘Not Drunk’ Mukherjee, Soubhik Dada…<o:p></o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p>The occasion for the party was two-fold – it was the one month anniversary (or thereabouts) of O-14, and secondly, WE BROUGHT THE HOUSE DOWN at the Hindi Pakhwara function… 10 of us singing the immortal Pyaar Humein Kis Mod Pe Le Aaya… And the crowd rocked… Especially Arnab with his power-packed rendition of Panchamda’s high notes in the song… They say the best judge of a performance is the artist him/herself, and honestly speaking, a) we enjoyed it, b) we rocked!<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><o:p></o:p>So at the end of this eventful day, as O-14 sleeps peacefully in this 10’x10’ cubbyhole, this is Big D signing off, with a little advice – know your limitations while drinking, and stick to them… Otherwise the next morning shall carry a double headache – the hangover and the embarrassment of listening to rantings recorded by someone… Goodnight…</p>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34133980.post-54834229600891784522007-09-10T22:46:00.000+05:302007-09-23T19:09:28.008+05:30Chai, Sutta aur Philosophy ki Kitaab - The Anniversary Edition<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">One year of struggling for readership on the blogosphere... One year of Bhaval and other regulars’ insightful comments... One year of trying to exercise diplomacy, in order not to be flagged and kicked out of the realm... One year that began with a nightlong conversation, and ended with the annihilation of a few dreams, and the onset of a lot more new ones... “redemption-reprise”, or “Chai, Sutta aur Philosophy ki Kitaab” is ONE year old today...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">This is the first post I’m writing on my new laptop... Struggling somewhat with the new keyboard and all... (Waah Shreyas Babu! Naya Laptop! Nayi Gaadi! Aur Naya Profession! Badhiya Hai!!!) Undertook a whirlwind trip to Jaipur the last couple of days, to hang out with the Brother... Eventful doesn’t begin to describe the trip... What with a bus that broke down at 430am on NH8, rains flooding the capital of the desert state and what not... Enjoyment can be measured in two ways, I believe – either by how quickly the time went by; or how slowly, in which case you remember every detail... This trip was the latter... Effectively, I stayed in Jaipur for 36 hours, sleeping time included... And cherished every moment of it...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">A year, twelve months, 365 days... How life changes in the seemingly short span of time... From English Literature to Television Journalism, from a Tata Indica chauffeur (Mom’s car, that’s why) to a Maruti 800 owner, from S to no-S and back somewhat... New friends, gone away, yet more new ones now found... Old friends still in the head, somewhere around... A birthday party to remember, with gallons of alcohol and kilometres galore on the car's odometer... Drives to North Campus at night, Marlboro regulars in the rain at the Arts Fac... And the rum, of course... Neat, or on the rocks... Life, they say, comes full-circle... I dunno about that... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">All I know is that it has been a pleasure writing this blog thus far... If nothing else, it is my little space in the web universe... A place where I can vent out, criticize, make caricatures, and generally be myself... Whatever you, the reader, may interpret me to be... Asshole, perhaps... This blog is me, inversely personified... </span><br /><br /><span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: trebuchet ms;">So anyway, time to uncork the champagne and let your hair down... Its a party here tonight!<br /></span>ρηοενιχhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09210761981929194113noreply@blogger.com2