inspiration II

when i openned my cupboard i had since i was 8,
in the smell of the old clothes folded with nepthalene balls since ages,
when i openned the windows of the room,
in the smell of the rain falling on the dust of the panes,
when i openned my books, no, ran my hands through them
in the smell of the flipping pages now yellowed with time,
when i openned the doors to walk through the rooms,
in the smell of the li'l moist walls and smile of the pictures they made,
when i openned my mouth to eat all that had been prepared in my honour
in the smell of the lemon, the bamboo shoot, the rice... the kitchen,
when i openned my arms and stood tiptoe on the roof
in all the river, the air, the roads, the soil and the grass that went in,
when i openned my heart to the sounds of them and more,
in all the invitations that cooed in my ear, in all the 'welcome backs' they said
when i openned my eyes to look at her sleeping with me engulfed
in the smell of her soap, her hair, her breath, her smiling sleep... in maa..
i found home... and i found inspiration...

inspiration 1

when hope was lost
and faith astray
when life was dead
and death in light's hay
when the smiles were gone
and tears ruled
when blessings were empty
and curses drooled
with black clouds above
when the sky was dark
when graves had opened
where the lightning had struck
when the sun had set
on all civilizaton
i found you and
found inspiration

i feel for both the soldiers...

Some days back, the Hindu reported the 'celebration' of the slaying of 76 CRPF soldiers in JNU. I read the piece and sat back staring at the ceiling for at least 15 minutes. i wondered, what is wrong with us? Us... not the JNU community, not the student community, not the men or the women... us, as in the human beings. why have we divided the world and shoved each of the halves forcefully behind a dividing line whose foundations run deeper in the psyche than in reality- the state and the people. where one wins, the other has to lose, there is no other way out... no peace for those who see this dividing line and want to bring it down. such people are termed 'neutral', 'devil's advocate' and sometimes even 'dead'. in these 15 minutes, i wondered- when did we evolve so much? so much that the thought of 'celebrating' the death of men on duty or even accusing someone of such an act became less hideous even in imagination than in reality? why do we forget that each man on duty has a family. and so does each of the naxalites, maoists or any of the insurgents fighting. are't they men on duty too? don't they have a cause too? why is their cause any lesser? or why is their death not 'shahadat'? aren't they both soldiers? am i wrong if i feel for both of them? when did we make our own personal Berlin's wall so high and mighty that we couldn't see or hear the pain of the thousands fighting everyday for something that is rightfully theirs- their land, their home, their wages, their families, the basic human right of security, tolerance and love, against people not very different from themselves? when and how did the barriers around our comfortable couches become so proof of the pain of the wife who's husband promised to come back for Bihu, only to be accompanied by his coffin? why have we become so numb that when we see her pain we refuse to see the one of the many in villages all over Jharkhand, West Bengal and Bihar where such stories happen every day? why is it so that we have to choose sides? why has human life so lost its meaning that it now belongs either to the 'state' or the 'people'? why can't i cry for the jawan who wrote in his diary about his undying love for his beloved and died the next day in a maoist attack and for the look in the eyes of the 14 year old girl who picks up the AK 47 to avenge her rape, murder of her father and the snatching of her family's land? why am i termed 'neutral' when i feel so strongly for both? doesn't life have any meaning? a meaning that transcends the barriers, the wall, the boundaries that us humans have created around it? and pray, tell me... when did death become a matter of celebration?

hold me close...

Hold me Close

hold me close...
let me see that smile of yours
hold me close
let me hear your heart beat
hold me close
for i want you to say my name
hold me close
for i want it to stay the same

let the world pass by
let us stand like this
in this moment sealed with love
with passion standing guard
and the heavens our witnesses above

hold me near, hold me tight
promise me that you will stand by my side
when hope is lost and me astray
when time is gone and life array
when the sunshine is gone and cold wind blows
promise me love,
you will hold me close!

november rain

and it rained
in november...
yesterday, no, yesternight...

when drunk with passion
wild with love
mad with hatred
driven by heavens above
you rode to kill me...
and yourself,
defying the world
and the god himself
yet you chose...
chose to save me
when lightning struck
and blood and love
both ran amok

standing under those trees
that loomed like guardians
or witnesses to the act
of such profound love
when you looked into these eyes and said
i love you more than my life...

it rained
it rained in november

for sachin- the god

dear sachin,
for twenty years you have carried the hopes of an entire nation on your shoulders. for twenty years you have been the ray of light in thunderous nights when all seemed lost for the country. for twenty years you have sacrificed your sleep, rest, peace, love life, wife, kids, family, in short, all the luxuries that an ordinary man can afford; to bring joy to the millions who swear by your name. for twenty years you have been close to a god, and though i am sure you don't like it, have been forced to bear the brunt of losses that were not even your mistakes. there are no words which can truly capture what you have done for this country and its people. there are no phrases that can truly sing your praises. as one of the millions who love you, pray for you, and want you to succeed (sometimes too selfishly) there is only one thing that i can say today, as you complete 20 years of service- thank you. for all the times when you raised the bat to us, when u looked at us and smiled, for all the times when you made us go insane and cry with joy, for all the times you took everything on your shoulders and saw us through... thank you. inadequate as it may sound, someone as small as me can only give you this much- my gratidude, for being Sachin Tendulkar, right hand batsman, India.

we love you sachin, we all do.

and for a change, today i wish you get the rest you truly deserve, even though that might mean a gap in the team never to be fulfilled by anyone in the centuries to come.

tied and torn

pulled between two
yours and theirs
expectations

dies a death
my desire, me
revelations

the red dragon
seers in me its ugly head
now alive now dead

shall i kill you
or myself
the goblin or the elf

nonsense you say
nonsense i say
nonsense it is
let it rule...

bang bang

1st jan 2009
another year
another month
another day
another blast...

5 dead
many injured
many all the more scared

i am scared too...
the bombs ripped through my state today
a place too scarily close to my father's office
almost a whisker's difference

someone might have not been that lucky

some daughter, some son
some family, some one...

it was my state today
tomorrow it might be yours
the day after, some other's

i am tired of this cycle now..
this cycle of fear
this cycle of hatred
the goosebumps that show up every time at the back of my neck when a bearded man passes by
the shiver that runs down my spine when every time someone wishes 'salaam waleikum'
and the guilt that follows each time...

release me..
release me like you did the pigeons in front of taj with each blast that that threatened to deafen my ears
release me like the blood that flowed from all my brethren's veins in gujrat, kandhmal, mumbai, malegaon, guwahati and all the names in the list of your plans
release me like the words that flow all too easily from the mouth of all those who say 'these acts are severely condemned'...

let me be free
let me just die.......

pain...

perhaps that's the only emotion that i can feel now..

as i skimmed through the news papers i had been so avoiding since the 28th, there was no way the tears so carefully stored somewhere for some happy occasion could refuse to come.

long time since my grandfather died, i howled. i howled for all those people in all those pictures who were caught in the photographers' cameras in muted despair. yet, and yet their screams seemed to be reaching out to me, blaring at my ears, causing the uncomfortable vibrations in my heart. i howled for sabina, whose last msg to her husband 'I still love you' seemed to me like the truest truth in the world today, something her husband would live with for the rest of his life. i howled for those husbands who never received their wives'  last word, or could send one. i howled for those who died hand in the hand. i howled for khusboo who would have married her love this week in a lavish wedding. i howled for the those wives who refused the money colored with their husbands' blood from the hands of politicians nowhere less responsible for them. i howled for those not lucky enough to be re-united. i howled for those who took away their beloveds in pieces. i howled for the 20 cremations at charni road. i howled for all those who died.

waqt ke sitam kam haseen nahi
aaj hai yaha, kal kahi nahi

those who were there till yesterday, are no more for some today. i howled for them.

and i howled for myself. because i was confused. i had always believed that terror has no religion. it is not islam who is responsible for all the deaths in the name of terror today. but suddenly, all my cultured belief on the goodness of man, and 'islamic terror' as just a concept structured by the west to make the oil producing countries their 'target enemy' was falling apart. for a few hours after the magnanimity of the situation in Taj, Oberoi and others at Mumbai hit me, i was frantically wishing for all of Islam to be dead and gone.

i am sorry.

then suddenly, i realised, if my wall of faith for 'faith' and knowledge of how the state functions to keep its ruling class intact could fall apart so easily with one gory incident, what about those who either never thought about it, or were even a single percent fanatic? if i who could see through the fact that there was no way 20 odd people carrying open ammunition (not hidden i mean) enough to kill 5000 people could rent a boat from gujarat fisheries, come to mumbai through the sea near the Taj (an area of high security because of the research center at sea right there) carry the ammunition all the way inside the Taj and hold up entire Mumbai for more than 60 hours without state help, could panic and blame a religion just because the terrorists were named ajmal and abdul instead of ajay and abhay, what would happen to those children whose parents barred them from playing with the ajmal and abdul in their compound? if i who have a muslim for a roommate and one of my best friends, who has read the poetry of love, revolution and beauty that faiz writes and realizes that terror is an old state-tool to keep the ruled under the illusion that they need the ruling class to rule them and protect them could hate the moment Islam was conceived, what would come of those who didn't cross a street that had a masjid, or wouldn't talk to someone for he had a beard, wore a skull cap and said assalam-walaikum as a greeting? couldn't the country be thrown in chaos by the same feeling that i had a few moments ago? wouldn't there be murders and kills just because of this one feeling that muslims all over the world are terrorists?

yes. and that is the pity of the entire human kind. feelings are contagious, more so if they are murderous.

i have said i am sorry for the feeling i had. i am sorry for letting it stay the long it did. i curbed it immediately from my heart the moment i realized its nature. i am sorry for i fear that what one of my fanatic friends said would come true, 'when you will lose someone in one such terrorist attacks, you will stop your shit about terror has no religion'. i am sorry for not being able to do anything about the same feeling in him, in thousands of my brothers and somewhere, dormant inside me. i do not want what he said to be true. i do not want chaos in my life. i do not want to hate god, or allah, or for that matter whoever he may be. for things like this, let my already slipping faith in religion and god die all over again. i need help.

we all need help. lets help each other. lets give each other the belief that the survival of the ruled is in staying united and not let schemes, of the monstrosity as this shake our faith in each other. lets help each other to believe in the good that man has within his heart. lets help each other to cry in the other's sorrow and laugh in his happiness. lets help each other to bury the dead and cremate them. lets help each other for the very fact that now, it is not god who will come to our rescue. it is us.

the bigger the obstacle the greater the glory in achieving it.

let's go ahead rid each other of the pain we all feel. the pain of disbelief, the pain of confusion and the pain of a failed faith in the existence of god. lets go ahead.

second consecutive day in the JNU library...

well well... i am sitting on the computer adjacent to the one i had hijacked yesterday...
but there is something else that drives me to write this now...
i can see the same neem tree where the little bird sat yesterday, and the same sun trying to cast shadows...
but the tree reminded me of something else today...
a train of thought had followed when i looked at it. they worship the need tree somewhere in this country. i guess, it's not the neem, but the banyan or the peepul..i was confused when the thought really occured, but this fact took me to the day when i had seen the story of the world's origin in a serial called Jai Ma Vaishno Devi.
Not that i am an ardent fan of the serial, but the actress who plays the goddess if BEAUTIFUL! Anyways, coming back to the scene when the goddess is looking for someone to start the world with, in short do 'shrishti rachna' and decides do so with the man created out of the 'tama gun' in herself after the men created out of 'sat gun' and 'raj gun' refused to indulge in procreative activities with their 'mother', I realised discrimination against women had begun much before life became so difficult for an ordinary woman in this world.
Shakti surrendered all her powers to the man she created, 'Shiva'. Shiva became 'ardhanarishwar'. I do not know if it actually happened. I do not hold any authority over these topics. i don't know if she actually did it, or made to do it by the man who told this story for the first time. but the story of the Goddess who had to surrender all her powers before wanting to start a family to a man she herself created seemed like 'oh i have heard that before!' doesn't that happen to women all over the world?
i know, i might be talking of a past. 'come on, women are empowered today', 'they are educated' they know what's good for them, 'they rate their career as their priority' etc etc. but this happens to a rare community of those women who have been lucky enough to get education and understand what Bouvoire said a long time back, 'one is not born a woman, one is made a woman'.
Even today, as a survey done by my friend Imran from the center of Law and Governance will tell you, women face discrimination. harrassment is another truth many happily, unfortunately and deliberately ignore. market places, colleges, cinemas, etc have stories of women being discriminated against on the basis of gender, caste, region etc. I believe i heard a saying once, 'if you have sinned for 7 incarnations, you are born a woman, and if you have sinned for 14, you are born a women of the lower caste'. My heart weeps to say that there are many generations in this country and many in the world who have taken this seriously, whether they have heard it or not, and indulged in centuries of oppression of a class that if free, could have made much better of the world than it is today.