Friday, 26 April 2013

The fog


The brain they say should be sharp and alert
Forever and ever on your guard
You should always be on your toes though deep in dirt
But are these things so easy to ward

They expect you to seem lithe and confident
Ready to solve the latest puzzle
But all the smothered steam hardly finds a vent
To escape out, to tear the binding muzzle

For me the surroundings seem so in a hurry 
I need to match my pace with the big Ben
All strive day and night heart on sleeves, mind in worry
As the reel rolls by you start your walk towards the den

The people make one so conscious about my bearings
The etiquette, the manners all a play
And the underlying mischief and subtle swearings 
Yet God bless em all is what I say.

Believe me if you will with your heartiest smile
For all this is an art to live a day
Be thankful that fog covers the naked truth for a while
But if you wish you could make it sway

Does it matter if a person thinks wrong about me
It shouldn't technically of course
But I am a human, cannot always pretend a glee
I keep shouting it aloud till i go hoarse

Some say the fog hides away your saddest tears 
Yes it does conceal them away
Do not be ashamed to clear away the devilish foggy fears
Because its no use pretending night and day

Be the real person that has the heart beating in you
Hear to those gentle chimes
swaddle away the fog the time it cleared is due
There are to come yet those happy times 

Do all you will but never curse any soul
For its something which will boomerang
Live the life as it comes your way enjoying the whole
'Be Happy' is all once a great seer sang

Dispel the fog to embrace the goodness that still exists
Pessimists, cynics and hypocrites are all but our brethren
Its time you bless them and move on from fogs to mists
Ohh and someday all end going towards the same den.

Wednesday, 24 April 2013

Friday, 19 April 2013

••...The Spy:2...••

     

         The motor boat cut off its buzzing engines as it harboured on the coast of the unknown island. The air was salty and reeked. The boy barely of 19 years tied the boat to a ledge and got off it on to the sandy beach. If his co ordinates were not wrong this was the training island. The same island. According to the boy's well placed sources the Government machinery had now been shut down. The training centre was no more. But more importantly all the training staff had been relocated on the island itself. A self sustaining town had been set up. The boy made his way towards the town. The towering training centre mocked him from a distance. It was now used as the town hall. 'How pathetic'. A group of little children played on the streets with colourful marbles. Their innocent cackle was so ironic to the place which once was responsible for killing the innocence of children to churn them out as expert spies.. These children were the antecedents of the same cruel staff which had created a batch of ruthless espionage agents.
          The boy wore a cloak which disguised his muscled physique. He walked over to a salon and asked for Mr. Geoffrey. Yes Geoffrey it was. The source was truthful enough. Anyways only a fool would dare to lie when the boy was around. One way or the other, the boy could extract the truth from the person in question. It was an inherited talent. The boy's mother had brought him up for this very day. The salon owner pointed to a distant ice cream stall. 'Seriously ice cream stall owner!' The boy thought in mock amuse. A piece of metal struck against his abdomen beneath his cloak. 'Yes it was still there' The boy trudged towards the ice cream stall. Another group of little children frolicked around the stall owner. An old man into his eighties. Stooped with his back towards the boy. The boy tapped the old man on his shoulder. The rheumatic old man turned to face him. A shadow passed his face, with an ice cream cup in his hand he said, 'Oh! so you came. I had dreaded it that He would leave a legacy. You have the same eyes. Go on!' . A Bullet fired from a mini revolver, the one which was last used 19 years ago. As the old man fell backwards with a trademark proud smile on his face. The Warden was dead.

19 years before:

          She heard the shot ring through the forest.'ohh he's gone' she thought. She ran faster towards the border. There he lay dead, before she could kill him. The maid servant stumbled towards the body. 'AHh!  there was a beat' She cradled the head of the very man she had intended to kill. The man who had scorned her. She carried the son of that very man. A man who had made promises only to break them. Liars they were. All of them.
 Earlier that day she had found that letter. There were many letters for the man. But never had she been able to lay a hand one even one of them. But that day the letter came by post not the usual secretive delivery boy. She had been scorned by that man, Jayek. She tore open the seal to read a single word on it,
    "Spy
                     -The warden"
          Ohh so that was it. She would not let him live for using her. Jayek was her prey now. But somehow Jayek had got the wind of some trouble. He had escaped the embassy guard. She ran behind him through the jungle. And finally he lay here dead. In the distance the maid saw a camouflage van drive away. She remembered the face with a proud smile. He was the one who had stolen her prey. Anger coursed through her veins. She promised that one day the man would regret for stealing Her prey. She picked up the mini revolver which lay on the ground and made her way with a resolute mind. She burnt a pyre of Jayek, the man who had scorned her, her prey to be. On his ashes she made a promise.

          And the boy was born. He had Jayek's eyes. Every time they would remind her of him. Anger would boil. But she schemed and trained the boy. Her sole power, Revenge. For 19 years she trained him and gave him the mini revolver. She bade him Adios as the boy sped away on his motorboat. The maid knew that finally she would have her revenge... And she had it. "Man hath no greater enemy than a woman scorned"...

Thursday, 18 April 2013

☻○ Wishes ○☻

     What are wishes in fact. The desires of a conscious mind which percolate deep into our sub conscious mind. The strong emotions attached with a wish always add to the craving we feel for its fulfillment. We human beings have expectations from our surroundings. Right from the train arriving on dot time to the sweeper cleaning the roads spick and span. These are mere expectations. But at times we have expectations and desires with a combined craving for them to be fulfilled. Wishes give a naked picture of our mindset and the mentality we posses. The simplest of wishes have a striving person behind it. We wish to have a wide variety of things. The wishes vary from person to person. As we grow, our wishes blow away from the winds of fiction and imagination. They become complex. And yet our craving for them to be fulfilled remains the same. 
    We move on for example from wishing to be a bird to wishing for the latest smart phone available in the market. These wishes carry a slimmer of hope to be fulfilled. How excited we are when our wish is about to be fulfilled. The tremors of expectation add to the pleasure of our wish being fulfilled. It ushers with it a stream of bliss. But as always it is momentary. So lets search for something long lasting. In the meantime lets keep wishing.. ;) !!

••... The Spy... ••

              3 more kilometres through  the dense woods and he would be crossing over the boundary. Jayek made his way through the thick trees and creepers. The sun was supposed to be at its glory at noon. But the trees made it seem a night on the ground, clouding the rays. For forty years Jayek had been one of the best trained spies of his country. Orphaned at birth he was whisked away by the government machinery. Whisked away from the country of his birth to an unknown island for elite spy training. He and twenty other infants had been reared in secrecy on that island. Al Jayek had remembered was the spartan lifestyle and the rigorous mental training. At a time when children hardly learnt to speak Jayek was fluent in 13 languages. He had been exceptional in diplomacy and advocacy. The shrouded mission warden (the supreme in charge commander of the training centre) was especially proud of his protege. He could very well convince a cold-blooded goon to give up violence and become an ascetic. At the same time he could instigate a flock of sheep to prey on a pride of lions. His tongue was his weapon. After nineteen years of training Jayek had been deported to a country plying his trade. Jayek was a trump card. The Warden had said on the graduation day, "You are too precious Jayek.. " But it sounded ominous to Jayek. As if he meant to say something more subtle. The best spy times had seen. Jayek had dined with the country premier and leaders seconds before planning and bringing about their downfall. He had pupeteered councils and cabinets to his will. His motto was 'pull the right string and the bell will finally ring'. The government machinery had been greatly helped by Jayek's secret work. Jayek had reached pinnacles of power, becoming a king maker. His identity was yet unknown to his rivals. ♦♦...............................................................♦♦
   Back to present day Jayek was found cursing his luck, running through the jungle. The simple folly of a complacent moment had transpired to his present predicament. A single document, a single stray moment faxed to him by the warden was found. The maid servant had understood the encrypted script. Unlike usual protocol this document was encrypted. The maid had already been cynical of him and his ways. A quote rang through his conscience.. "Man hath no greater enemy than a woman scorned.." The document had reached country officials. Jayek was doomed. It was his silver tongue which had hardly allowed him to get a head start. Given the speed of the officials it was slow this time. Jayek had escaped the embassy's guard. The excuse was a stroll in the park. How thick could people be. Jayek mused. As he came to a clearing he panted. He was running out of breath but not of luck. It had followed him everywhere. He remembered the warden's words during the special training. "Whenever in trouble you have two options.. Option1: Use your brains to make your way out of the muddle..and the other option use it wisely.. Option2: Use the transmission chip embedded in your wrist since your birth. The agency will then bail you out of the situ." Here he was using the second option available. He vaguely remembered these thick woods. It was through these woods he was smuggled into this rival country at the age of 19 for his spying mission. Now the transmission chip had been activated. Just a kilometre more and he would be free. He still remembered the warden's face 21 years ago when the warden himself had come to see him of for this mission of 21 years. A rare honour for a 21 year old trainee.. Jayek's heart gave a jump when he thought of the rescue team waiting for him across the border. Jayek ran faster as the 1000 meters succumbed to a few 10. In the distance Jayek saw the camouflaged rescue jeep. Ah! Sweet! He was salved. Finally at the age of 40 Jayek would retire in peace. Throwing military protocol to the wind Jayek sprinted towards the jeep. A solitary figure sat in the jeep. It was the warden!. The same proud smile on his face. 
            A rare honour again for Jayek the warden himself to rescue him!!The warden's face was now wrinkled a single bead of sweat trickled down the warden's brow. And then Jayek sensed it. The warden stepped out with a smile and say, " Oh! my boy you are back! You are too precious.. " And the silenced shot rang through the woods from the mini revolver hidden in the warden's sleeve. As Jayek fell backward and landed with a dead thud. As the warden completed the sentence to his protege started 21 years ago.. "But too powerful and hence dangerous and dispensable too.. !"

◄Misunderstandings►

          The very word misunderstanding, is so misleading. A person either understands a person or he/she doesn't at all. That's the case. Many times we feel that we do understand a person. But in fact we do not. That is sadly the cause of all quarrels and arguments. We face a dilemma when we do not understand the reason for a person's particular actions or thoughts. Each and every person thinks and understands at his/her own level. This level is decided by the amount and quality of impressions on the conscience of that particular person since childhood. These impressions go a long way in determining how we react to situation we face. The problem is diversity of thoughts. This happens because of a variety of reasons. We cannot help it. Misunderstandings have destroyed many a relations. This has caused enormous amount of pain trouble to the people in consideration. Usually two individuals. The individuals are two because everything in this world occurs in pairs. The pairs represent the real nature of everything. Leaving that aside we do realise that so many misunderstandings arise only due to the lack of communication. No human being in this world is perfect. This line is heard by us so many times. But the crux is that we apply this line sub consciously only to the other people. We do not apply it to ourselves.
    Scientifically too we see that things tend to move from higher potential to lower potential. That is the tendency of human mind too. It is a thing which has caused so many problems to us. The descent is always preferred option. So it is quite natural that our eyes detect the faults of others very quickly and tend to ignore the faults which we have. This is sadly is a world wide tendency. It is so bad that we do not even spend time on introspection. This happens a lot of times and then leads to misunderstandings. Misunderstandings need to be resolved in the earnest. Because the more time we let these things wander in the myriad garden of our mind the more detrimental these things become. It becomes a deep rooted thought and starts rusting. It gradually affects our other actions too. As we grow we tend to become more and more judgemental of people. We literally jump to conclusions and create a pre image of a person. Many times this pre image comes to the fore and strikes at the time of an argument and causes a misunderstanding. These things slowly stack up and hurt both the individuals. And then there comes the evil of EGO. It is omnipresent and strikes one and all of all ages and creeds. The wild instinct of self preservation degrades gradually to this evil of EGO. Thus misunderstandings do not get resolved because of this evil. It is impossible to lose out this ego. An impossible task for the greatest of great.

   The simple solution that lies before us is that. We should place ourselves in the place of the person in concern and try another point of view. The other side too might have some genuine points. Many times people do realise their faults but do not accept them. This again is ego. Hence the final destination that awaits us is a leveller of all. It equalises all animosities. Keeping that end in mind we should try to accept the vagaries of life and live accordingly. It is a sad thing that we do not understand this. Hope again is our only forte. Just hope that slowly this pollution of thoughts gets this antidote of love and acceptance and does its miracles.. All we need is BELIEF..

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

↔..The trait of being possessive..↔

         'Having the best for oneself' is a general tendency of us all. The best of amenities, even in fact the best chunk of a cake. This want gradually leads to want of special attention. The need of a complete dedication of a person or  a thing for oneself. Mostly children with no siblings display this trait. Having had no siblings to share toys, candies, books and all those seemingly little things leads to this trait in such children in later stages. All the love and pamper of the parents is directed towards the child. There is no second entity to tap away the shower of affection. All the goodies are available to the child alone. As the innocent years of childhood pass by, the habit of being possessive slowly seeps into the persona. The person is exposed to a multitude of friends. They influence the person to a large extent. Many times there comes by a special friend amongst them whom we get attached to. For a span of time we dedicate our whole and soul in that relation of friendship. Single children usually end up getting overly attached to people. They immerse their thoughts words and actions into the friendship to greater extent. And hence are more affected if a friendship fails to blossom in the averse surroundings. These children expect to have that special friend for themselves exclusively. But in the process forget, that they have an individual life to live too. And many a times they do not get the expected share from the other person's life. This leaves them famished and flummoxed. Sadly this is the case with me too. And I do understand the conflict children like me face... So do comment if you are too like me. But at the end I say.. This trait isn't something which sticks on to yo. With a little help from a really good friend one learn to accommodate and adapt. And thankfully I have been among the lucky few to have found a friend who really helps..

The breeze..→→

→→→
Sitting alone in the confines of the four walls
I wait and wait by the window till my mother calls.
→→→
Breaking the reverie of nostalgic memories
The thoughts and events of the past like a breeze
→→→
Shedding inhibitions and caution in the privacy of the mind
I meet characters of lore, fiction, freedom and buzz of all kind
→→→
Brings the heavy time a stream of rust
All those little things  reappear from the dust
→→→
Though time travel seems a game of falsehood

Your mind takes you everywhere even if you simply brood→→→

Hundreds of familiar faces kept in our storage
Yet the few strike the right key to break the cage→→→

Sometimes the world seems foolish and dreary
And at times so vivid, that its my eyes that become weary→→→

A certain voice prods me to keep up the faith within 
For its belief that matters when the mind is in a huge din→→→

Starved to see a see a real face sans a mask
No politics, no make up, just a straight a task→→→

Thursday, 11 April 2013

Tick-tock..on the clock..

              Time and tide wait for none they say. What is time? A quantity which has never yet been defined. And it won't ever be. There are some things which are beyond the naive and commonplace ideologies. The theory of relativity by one of the greatest minds, Dr. Albert Einstein says that everything in this universe is relative. If we think over this very proclamation, we do really find it to be true, even in case of time. We haven't yet been able to deduce the begining of time. For me time has been a fascinatingly mysterious entity. It has always mocked generations of thinkers to delve deeper into their conscious powers to dispel the fog surrounding it. Time is such a thing that passes at its own natural pace. For our own convenience we have divided the earth into imaginary time zones.
                      All this has somewhat complicated our schedules and routines. But can we really know more about time. We live our lives on this planet which is rotating around its own axis and revolving around the sun at the same time. Even these are theories at the end of the day. So one can still speculate. Though we have considerable proof for the above assumption yet we could be miles away from the truth. A particular action, thought or word we send out is so easliy absorbed somewhere within ourselves too. It can never be retracted. Every minute contemplation in our brain is recorded. We feel safe in the privacy of our thoughts. But is it so?? When we think we actually trigger a very powerful force within. It neither understands jest nor fun. It simply chants 'so be it'. Cynics might even call this as speculative theory. But then theories are a result of intense contemplation. They are many a times a result of a spark which directs the conscious thought. Coming back, we should hence be extremely careful on three levels.viz. thought, speech and action. Because it is these three levels which layout the responses for our future. Tus once done cannot be undone. That is the power of time. It is unidirectional. It flows and flows by. Many theories exist on time travel. My personal opinion is to be thankful that time travel does not exit in the literal sense. Even thinking of the gory possiblities makes me shiver. So presently what we have in our hands is to be aware and beware on those mentioned three levels. But as this draws to a close. Another conflicting thought crops up. What is then 'Deja Vu'

The IPL

              On the similar grounds of the glossy Barclay's English Premier league, the Indian cricket board officials kept up their tradition of aping the west like the majority Indians to present the Indian Premier League  or the Indian Paisa League). The six years of this so-called 'cricket' league have given  the people a perfect example of an Anti-climax. The descent from a real league to a true cricket lovers' eyesore. There are times when I literally cringe at the sights. Controversies galore to this extravaganza. The league is played for the public. Sheer entertainment. It follows the line of dishing out mindless entertainment. So it is no surprise when you find a Sameer Kocchar or a Danny Morrison dressed up in a sherwani chatting up the lost and forgotten cricketers of the yesteryear's. Or a skimpy clad 'imported' cheer girl gyrating to rock numbers every time the red cherry crosses the boundary line. Merchandise stores have found yet another way to sell colourful wares from jerseys to napkins. The business minded 'cricket officials' have found a number of unofficial ways to fill the pockets in this stream of money (black or white?? heaven knows). Money. money and money everywhere. The internal problems of this nation of ours are so diplomatically neglected just to give a phillip to this lucrative league. The drought in Maharashtra is something which you find in a daily only if the journos find a space for it after analysing the details of the IPL matches. A time when water isn't available to quench a sore throat, thousands of liters of water is being used every day for grooming the cricketing meadows. Would it really matters if these leagues do not occur and the ground dries up, at the cost of those blessed drops to the parched lips. And high time when we start contributing for a public fund to erect urinals for the nephew.