To wake up and feel better

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2010-02-10T12:19:00.000-08:00

The cities

2010-01-31T03:07:00.000-08:00

City life
under city lights.
Blanket of security
so we could see -
meet the devil in the eye
the untrustworthy passerby.
Poor man, he is running too
to beat the good at what they do,
puts up a bad fight
at the good man's delight
leaves in a hurry
this place is a worry
for even a devil
has no time to revel
in this city life
under city lights.

Those who stop and stare
are crazy enough to be here.
Walk, talk and eat
together, and keep it neat.
Though moving at 50 is a Land Rover
on a marvel that is the fly-over
people forgot to fly
trying to touch the sky -
they got closer on 15th floor
yet locked behind some door
listening to music of the horns
maybe the devil warns
that it's running still
so come out if you will
keep the spirit alive
and run for someone else's life.

City life
under city lights.
Where the stars are dim
how do we reach for them?
Is it money we are after
Our identity our master?
Or are we chasing immortality -
to be found, not lost, in history.

Glory be.
For a man like me
finds it hard to see
the now of each face
lost in the pace
of this city life
under city lights.

Quizzing with the Idiot Box

2010-01-07T17:07:00.000-08:00

Television is not just an idiot box anymore. It keeps my mind at work at least. We are always playing a guessing game - truth or lie? I have been left on the guessing side since Television drifted from just giving to selling. Now it's a fish-market out there. Modest to ambitious fisherwomen/men. Grunted to greedy customers. Fishes - of all kinds. But it's a market, and some decided to stay home. They started watching Television on mute, lip-sync and laugh.

And how moral can a market get? So soon Television started lying. In the days of Colour Television, it became more so difficult separate the black from white. With a solid backing from everyone - the businessmen, the audience, and the entertainers - the show went on. Everybody found a way out.

The scriptwriters

You have an idea? They have a script.
Auro from Paa?
Say that the kids want to talk to him, put him on phone (Airtel only), and put him on Television.
Skin cream?
Say that it helped Malaika Arora Khan and Arbaaz Khan to bring lost love right back into their married life.
Chitragandha Sen comeback?
Put her everywhere - ramps, photoshoots, page 3 parties, ads, shows - one could choke on the overdose, with no movie release of an actor of that caliber in sight.

They are the least to blame; their prime job is to churn money. They converted everything and everyone into a brand, and sold it. PR went all out, and soon entertainment got the better of media. But the major choke point was when the News channels gave in.

The audience

We - the people, we will take anything, with a pinch of salt or otherwise. Dara Singh's son, Rakhi Sawan't mother - everybody was watched, and celebrated. The difficult audience found their peace in very selective channels or shows, or in the game-plan of keeping the mind away.

Publicity stunts call for a lot of lying - unnecessary lying in the name of entertainment. If the audience was smart enough to understand that their favorite movie star is after all human too, then they would probably appreciate his/her life for what it is, and him/her for who they are. Only if the public understood their lives were a movie too, and found peace if it was never screened in the theaters. Sorry, multiplexes.

The 2 idiots and a dog

Aamir Khan named his dog Shahrukh, and so much has happened since that nobody remembers the dog that bought the 2 idiots this share of fame.

At the Sahara Indian Sports Awards 2009, noted Badminton player Prakash Padukone, gave an advice to the players in his speech after receiving the Legend Honour award. Here's an advice not just for the players, but for everybody who will go to any lengths to be remembered. He said, “Keep away from controversies." The 2 idiots had toed the same line, until recently.

Why then, are the King and the Perfectionist honoring us with a dogfight on National Television? Why did the Perfectionist have to start it, and the King follow? Aamir had said, talking about his forthcoming movie, "An idiot is someone who makes a mistake once, and doesn't repeat it." So let’s hope.

"Bow wow", Sharukh, the forgotten dog protests.
“Who decides what is entertainment?”, he barks out.
He has got Aamir's intelligence.

Fools rush in

A recent article threw some light on how the Age of Greats is gone. We will now have 5 minutes of claim-to-fame stars. Public memory is short and there's a media explosion. Nobody has the time to celebrate someone else's life for too long. You have to be in the public eye, somehow, anyhow. So be in the movies, music albums, ads, photo shoots, publicity gimmicks, reality shows, and page 3 parties. Be on the ramp. Be in the news - a deal brokered between the entertainers and the businessmen, for the audience.

Times are changing, always. Greats of any time were the ones who did things differently. If today is the age of maximum-publicity, then it's time to go down under. If at 45, a star wishes to remain one at 70, he can follow the script. But if at 45, he/she dreams of being Great at 70, then it should shine bright, and show less often.

An exception to case is Amitabh Bachchan. A 73-year old lady contestant on America’s Got Talent told one of the judges after he rejected her, "I hope at my age you will be able enough to do what I can do." She got through the round, thanks to the two other judges, and left the stage, with a happy face and with no voice. It's a thing with age, and its eternal battle with time.

This is not to compare Big B with that lady, for he's sure got talent. So it would have made more sense if someone like him had said it - "I hope at my age you will be able enough to do what I can do.(I lead)."

So lead, sell lesser lies.

Most favorite movie

Imagine a world where you have only black or white to choose from, always. This is the world where you can’t play games. Only truth was heard, which left a lot many hurt. But then it also made them brave. For then they became sure.

The need to be known, and remembered, amongst the people is more than before. For others, it’s the need to feel connected. It’s a good demand-and-supply situation for the market, so the businessmen are at work. It’s the audience and artists-turned-entertainers who can leave with this thought -

We are brands anyway, we are brands too.
So let us be ourselves, and let us be good.

No need to be quizzing with an idiot box.

Avenger's Song

2009-11-08T19:43:00.000-08:00

Shooting arrows
wide of the mark.
Grey skies
over the boulevard.
Angry winds carry
no hope to guard.
Echoing noise is
a wild dogs bark.
Without a flag
or a visiting card.
The avenger walks,
alone in the dark.

The roads worry
at the last yard.
In whispers,
the trees disregard.
Society's very own,
the classic retard,
decides to go,
to places barred.

He says with a smile -
To find peace
before I resign,
I will fight
with no rules to define.
I will leave
with no dust behind.
The rest can rest
as they walk the line.
But I'm at war,
vengeance will be mine.

Alone in Pauses

2009-11-05T08:24:00.000-08:00

How alone am I?
In a dark dingy room,
where shadows loom.
With euphoria abound,
but no thoughts profound.
Counting the lonely stars,
fading horn of distant cars.
When the music stops,
and the curtain drops.
Just before my sigh,
How alone am I?

How alone are you?
In between your coffee sips
Watching the moving lips
Missing the spoken words
Walking with alien herds
Amidst the traffic lights
Waiting for broken kites
With a different point of view
How alone are you?

How alone are we?
Reading the quiet signs
In between the times
When all stops moving
Then will we see,
That I'm not you
And you're not me.
So let our differences be.
To know,
How alone are we.

Rested Time

2009-11-05T07:13:00.000-08:00

Remember me.
I taught you to excel,
blessed you on the farewell.
Now guilty as I watch,
Societies' pursuit to quell,
a prodigy who tried to rebel.

Remember me.
The neigbour's broken fence,
our casual pretense.
A private joke,
between good old friends.
Humor that lost it's sense.

Remember me.
To the blues they played,
sweet love we made.
How we didn't know then,
soon this music will fade.
And so we swayed.

Remember me.
Once too young to protest,
Then a boy full of zest.
My son is now a man,
who learnt to disrespect,
with due respect.

Remember me.
On a night it poured,
9 o clock, you were too bored.
Mine is a face,
of a traveler on board.
The stranger you ignored.

So remember me by.
If you allow,
I'll take my bow.
We will meet again,
and you will see how.
Let our time rest for now.

So Quiet

2009-10-14T00:18:00.000-07:00

It is so quiet here
So quiet you forbear.

The noise I want to make
Chooses to foresake
Silence easier to seize
Respecting the sleeping trees

I walk with the dust
On one way roads I trust
For they show
The only way to go.

Enough time to cry
I needed before I sigh
So time learn't to stop
Settled on my tear drop

My lonliness there to caress
Filling me up was nothingness
No need to play a dirty trick
It's a picture I could not click.

Where the gods reside
Is for you to decide
But if there was a place ever
Where the gods celebrated together
So quiet you forbear
It is so quiet here.

Stay Blue

2009-10-13T10:18:00.000-07:00

Stay blue.
While we try to undo,
The damage done to you.
Blue Mountains, stay blue.

Blue Mountains so high.
The clouds lie with me,
We laugh at the sly smile,
of the rainbow you can't see.

Blue Mountains and I.
Tired after a snowball fight,
Lit a bonfire and then,
Invited all the stars in sight.

Blue Mountains can cry.
The rain that slapped their ground,
Has gone and left behind,
Silence with a deafening sound.

Blue Mountains don't lie.
Our snowman has melted away.
Oceans look dark and angry,
Plotting as the skies turns grey.

Blue Mountains did try.
Bruised, never broken.
With courage they faced,
the truth that had spoken.

Blue Mountains goodbye.
Leave us something to remind,
of how we faltered.
So please leave your soul behind.

Blue Mountains won't die.
Lived a life we couldn't survive.
Peaceful and dignified,
In my heart they are alive.

Before you go, you should know.

2009-10-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

It seems so meaningless,
You know, I could just die.
Cut my vein in two,
Bid my perfect life goodbye.

But then a petal speaks to me,
In springtime I come to life.
So before you go, you should know,
Sweet raindrops keep me alive.

A buttefly sings softly,
What you miss to feel, for me is divine.
So before you go, you should know,
I steal my breaths from the sunshine.

A beggar stares with pity,
To honour my needs, my honour I sell.
So before you go, you should know,
Your unwanted waste is on what I dwell.

Silence, explains in silence.
In stillness is where I persist.
So before you go, you should know,
I'm nothing and yet I exist.

With the raindrops and sunshine,
And the universe by my side,
Before I cut my life in two,
Someone give me a reason to die.
Maybe just a reason to cry.

On my way to a dusty death.

2009-10-03T08:38:00.000-07:00

Proud to tell my countrymen,
I was a gallant soldier in a war.
But when it got over,
Lost the lady I was living for.

Orphan as a child,
Never endured the shadow of a family.
At teenage I met a girl,
Who then became the world to me.

Standing across her I watched,
A pearl-like teardrop build in her eye.
Had to leave for my duty was calling,
And that was the last time I bid her goodbye.

Woke up and saw my men celebrating,
For the days of horror were gone.
But my hazy vision confused me,
And I mistook my dusk for dawn.

My body could sense defeat,
As it battled against the wind.
A bullet through my chest,
My elbows and knees were skinned.

My end was near, but serene and sedative,
Such is the magic of my woman’s charm.
This time god did not deceive me,
As I took my last breath in her fragile arms.

Road Downhill

2009-10-03T08:11:00.000-07:00

Places, that go nowhere
Faces, that didn't care
If love was all gone
And truth up in thin air.

So brave. So smart.
So close. Yet so far.
So many gods to bless us all
That every reason fits
Falter, I can
So long as there are benefits.

We win a battle
Await the war
Cattle, sold out for drones
We kill a million enemies
But we kill a million homes
I may look prettier now
But you and I look like clones.

Religion, a faith
And how it took us apart
We could've been friends
If it wasn't for a wrong start
But now I need to shoot you
And play my part.
How brave. How smart.

For all the teachings at prayer halls
We fed our families well
Forgetting those outside our walls
LIke the beggar at the door
Though we're sad, if he crawls
He knows there's saving up to do
So we could go, to the malls
Wear a mask maybe, to avoid the flu.

He knows. The beggar knows.
He knows our excuse.
Can we tell his reason?
But a sad story won't amuse
You and I, we have no time
No change, however loose.

No one will know
That we were escapists
Stopped being leaders
While being in politics.
Worked smart, not so hard
Business for economics
Didn't fear the Almighty
But called him that, just for kicks.

Nobody is perfect
But we even stopped trying
Brave and smart we became
All this while, lying
Knowing our soul lay somewhere
Silenced, and yet crying

They don’t need no AIDucation

2007-07-03T21:26:00.000-07:00

Being aware and being wise are two very different things. Wisdom essentially is a quality that comes from values, and values to a large extent, stem from our mindset. Time will give you the kind of experience one needs to become wise, but it’s up to you to learn the lessons.

This is especially applicable to the ever-growing problem of AIDS and ways of tackling it. For a long time now, AIDS awareness programs have been considered as one of the most steadfast solutions emphasizing on the core message of ‘indulging in safe-sex’. This solution might be feasible in a western country where the culture is different to the extent that a condom might find home in a cabinet or the pocket of a youth at all times. In a place like India, sex is not pre-planned or expected at all times. It’s that ‘moment- of truth’ that catches you unaware, and without a condom. One wouldn’t want to spoil it due to the absence of it. And so they risk it.

Agreed that there still are many villages in India who consider AIDS as a form of punishment from God, ones for whom the awareness programs were specifically designed, but they constitute a fraction of many. For those who know about the cause of it, factors like timidity and accessibility keep them away from purchasing a condom. Even in a place like Lokhandwala, a developed suburb in Mumbai, one would have to travel more than a kilometer at night to find an open chemist shop.

Maharashtra accounts for the highest number of sex workers or the so-called ‘high-risk groups’ of AIDS in India, majority of who by now know are aware about the necessity of using a condom. But all it takes is shelling out a little more from the pocket of probably an educated someone, and convince them to do it without one. Once again ‘awareness’ fails to make them realize that a fleeting moment of extra pleasure might be costlier in the long run.

One very powerful indicator of the fact that AIDS prevention doesn’t entirely depend on education or its awareness, is that Tamil Nadu and Maharashtra account for the top 2 AIDS affected states in the country, though their literacy level is much above average. On the other hand U.P., Rajasthan or M.P. are states with almost equivalent population, lesser literacy rate, but not as high AIDS affected as against these two.

The point is, AIDS prevention is not only about its awareness anymore. Enough has been said and done. Testing yourself for the lessons learnt with time, boils down to that one tiny moment of extreme pleasure- and risking it would mean pointing and laughing at all those years of education.

Badchalan Aurat

2007-07-03T21:10:00.000-07:00

Knock knock.
Whos there?
Badchalan Aurat.
.… Knock Knock.
…. Knock Knock.

This too went unanswered. In my world, wishes were granted depending on who’s knocking on whose door. A man was always entertained, for my door was always answered.
Its not like I did not have a choice to leave, but I feared if my existence in any other form mattered to anyone else, at all. If I was of any other use to anyone else, anywhere. Chances are I probably dint want to serve any other purpose. My body was too numb, my mind too frozen, my soul too bruised, for myself to care. Each time I shared my bed with a stranger, a part of me was chipped away. So much had been lost, that any effort to get the pieces together, to rebuild my life, would only begin and end with, “Who was I anyway?” And so I’m accustomed to what I’m, and accepted what I don’t have. My world is a small place, maybe the size of a dingy room, with no room for emotions. And its OK, as it gives me my bread and butter.

There are times when I have to knock at someone’s door, for reasons so different. On several occasions, I was in the lock up with other mates of mine, couldn’t call them friends- there were none in this business. And so I sit behind the bars, looking at the policeman I had once bed, waiting for him to look up, and into my eyes. To see if I was the only one who sensed the irony of the situation. To know if he would recognize and react, to doubt it would be neither.
And then the burly man of 45 looked up, and straight into my eyes. There were 5 of us, but straight into my eyes. So he remembered me, from that night. Im not sure if that made me proud, for having served well enough to be remembered, or relieved, for having a hope to be freed sooner. That, it made me feel better, I can tell.

“Saheb, Jaane do na”, I said to him, now that our association was established, so what if it had a reference to a shady past. Little did I know my genus just can’t take liberties. He roared back, “Chup chap beth”. I was shocked, by the loudness of his scream and attempt to veil his hypocrisy underneath it. I still looked, trying hard to find any trace of guilt, but found none. Only I could tell the difference between the craze in his eyes that might be a cause of factitious anger today, but resembled that of an animal ready to feast upon his prey, that night.

No strings attached, he was doing his job. But if his job involved punishing me for the service I did, then how did he allow himself to be a customer of that service? Or how did the boys, who had one time bargained to reduce my otherwise measly price, manage to laugh at the sight of me on any other occasion? Weren’t we a part of this ‘business’ together? I, the seller, they, the buyer? So if they laughed, or infuriated, or repulsed at the sight of me, shouldn’t they feel the same emotions for themselves? I couldn’t even blame this on ‘lack of conscience’. Easy escape for the bastards.

Next morning, the pimp came and there was a customary exchange of notes. The hawaldaar then unlocked us and we were free. Out in open, I simply wondered if I held the key to any door at all.