Friday, September 18, 2009

Quit Wasting Time





So much to do,
Places to go,
It’s time you race,
Cannot be slow.

Do you notice the world,
And its mysteries?
These twisted locks,
Can you find the keys?

This moment right now,
Can make you sing,
Or spark a revolution,
The joy it can bring.

Now, you’re walking around,
Brooding over a thought,
Which makes you sad,
In pain, are you caught?

This lonely time,
Is it worth your mind?
You can do more than this,
You can break this confine.

Let your spirit flow,
Let your thoughts rhyme,
Realize your worth,
And Quit Wasting time…






Tuesday, June 9, 2009

An honest thought...

I entered a new school when I was 11-12 years old. The school which my brother was from. Being quite interested in Science ( and I was interested in a lot of other things as well...) as I grew over a couple of years, I suppose everyone came to know I fared decently well in academics. So people around me, who liked me, used to say, " You have talent, you should use it to the fullest", or "Man! Your a Genius, you're better than others...". And it was at times like these I was always caught off-guard. I didn't quite know what to say. I had never thought of it that way... I always used to say, "I'm no Genius", or " ..eerr.. I don't know .. maybe..." . I never gave " What am I? " that much of a thought perhaps... just liked what I was doing  in life at that time ... Nonetheless I didn't really care what people said. But I did come to know that they liked me or appreciated me, so it felt good.
A year or two on... Things were normal till class 11th. I had a real slump in Academics(and it continues to date).  Perhaps I just didn't give it as much attention as needed. Or perhaps the level of academics had just gone higher. I also realize sometimes I didn't/couldn't do things I really wanted to do, or the way I wanted to do them. Those were mistakes. I was unhappy also sometimes with things around me, because my conscience always told me where and when I was not being 'me'. And now there were people saying, " You've wasted yourself" or " Tumhaara IIT mein naheen hoga" or just having digs at me to assert the fact that I was inferior to them somehow. And I had the same feeling as before. I was most definitely caught off-guard this time as well, saying " theek hai bhai .. you're better" ... or " I think I can do better perhaps like you say ... "  or just not speaking anything. The only difference here was I knew they were not appreciative. Still, I generally am unaffected by anybody's opinion of me... except some people. These people, who you've decided are most important to you, and it is a fact that what they think of you, affects you. And the number of such people had increased by a few as I approached end of School.
I don't like such people a lot, who try to assert there inferiority or superiority on you. It might be true that such objective comparisons make me really ill at ease - This "competitive spirit" perhaps, or these exams or anything that puts a tag on you - 'pass' or 'fail', 'right' or 'wrong' , 'good or bad', 'deserving' or 'undeserving' - To the extent that they scare me, when I'm low on confidence, specially when it comes from people whose opinion might affect you...
I believe everyone of us, at least me, knows deep inside what is his/her way of doing a certain thing, what is his/her right or wrong, what he/she is... You just know when you are being you... and when you are not ... 
I just want to be me... and I will, like I have most of the times, be honest to myself, my thoughts and my emotions .... 

"We were meant to live for so much more
Have we lost ourselves? 
Somewhere we live inside
Somewhere we live inside...."


Monday, May 25, 2009

What?

I'm looking around - the dim CFL, the curtains, the telephone, the screen, the doors, the walls, the "pooja-ghar" with books and pictures of gods and "gangajal" , the dining table with the sauce bottle reading "Kissan" and the mangoes and the helmet in one corner and the cray bandage and the clock ticking time away and the frizzing fan ... everything... 
The books, the "lectures of physics by feynman" ... the Ivanov, Krotov, Belikov, Irodov, Potapov, Tursnov, The Krantz, the Hawkings, the David Deutch, the Numer Theory, the Fountainhead, the concepts of space science, the art of living, the Centre Fresh Book of Cricket Lists, the Fomin's the Chekov's plays, the short stories and the How to Solve it and the Beer & Johnson and the  Riddles in your teacup and the Cambridge Guide to Stars and Planets and the Patrrick Moore and the Maron, the Macbeth...... the FIITJEE, the FIITJEE and the FIITJEE!!!!
And the BLUE Bag ... which contains in it the GREY bag, which contains in it the BLUE bag which reads PEMIC, my most favorite one ... the bag retired now to a most important duty, to guard the materials and remnants of a love story and the aftermath...
The "Sid" pasted on the door in black with sprinkles of gold, the Dev ...... D ... written in purple on the yellow wall , the Smoking man with a beard in orange on the adjacent wall, the anatomic face on the back door, the unfinished concord on another wall .... the grey book shelf filled with books, kept on it the picture of the girl holding a flower and written under it "love understands and therefore waits" , the "Honorable Mentions" and the First Prizes ... and the Gold Medals and the Bronze one and the Consolation Prize and the folder of certificates, the purse with the money collected and spent over a lifetime Rs. 1040 , the scooter keys the folded blanket the bags the orange and the black one and the blue one, the passport, the question papers and more question papers the answered those left unanswered ... the book shelves, Gurudev, the guitar, the picks, the harmonium, the open register with an incomplete peom titled "Dorothea" .... the tennis racket and the covered table fan and the table light ..... and the "busy bee" cover ... 

Friday, May 22, 2009

A Mad man's love



The lazy teardrops fall,
From my swiftly blinking eyes,
I hear my restless heart beating,
Over my stammering sighs.

How could you love me then,
When you knew it was unfair,
When you would need me most,
I just might not be there.

I'm sorry for being my psychic-self,
My inability to understand,
You'll find more graceful lovers,
But how I wish I could hold your hand.

I do not deserve you - I know,
I realize I'm insane,
But I have this feeling I cannot express,
This... love perhaps I cannot explain.

I break into animal-like laughter,
As I remember that adorable smile on your face,
My weird childish mannerisms,
Could have never been a match for your grace.

I stare into your photograph,
Then press it to my heart,
As if protecting your thoughts,
I'll never let them depart.

Folding into myself, in a corner,
I cling on to your memories,
You're mine, when I close my eyes,
And here - we're together in peace.

Monday, April 27, 2009

ACID


The colours, red and yellow and green,
And the Dark in the light chrome,
The stretched curves in the sketch,
And the blurred sight of Another home.

It's not me,
It might be acid,

But I don't know.

The beeps preceding the singular note,
And the percussion beaten free,
And a bird sings in the background,
The sound is incoherent harmony.

It can't be me,
They say it's acid,

But I don't know.

This is the smell of withered roses,
Where does it come from, petals or thorns?
But it is indeed a pleasant fragrance,
And I feel like an infant, newly born.

It might be me,
It almost is acid,

But I don't know.

And now I feel the pinch,
So this is what they call pain,
I feel warm like the steel in the daylight,
And the drops that strike me, might be rain.

Oh! Yes.

It is me,
And it is acid.

But I will never know.

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

Dead Poets Society


Its a beautiful movie. Recommended for all helpless romantics(in the poetic sense)!
huh .... this has inspired me .... feel good hota hai ...  

Favorite Quotes:(starred the real good ones)

Meeks: I'll try anything once. 
Dalton: Except sex. 

__________________________________________________________________________

***John Keating: We don't read and write poetry because it's cute. We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race. And the human race is filled with passion. And medicine, law, business, engineering, these are noble pursuits and necessary to sustain life. But poetry, beauty, romance, love, these are what we stay alive for. To quote from Whitman, "O me! O life!... of the questions of these recurring; of the endless trains of the faithless... of cities filled with the foolish; what good amid these, O me, O life?" Answer. That you are here - that life exists, and identity; that the powerful play goes on and you may contribute a verse. That the powerful play *goes on* and you may contribute a verse. What will your verse be? 
__________________________________________________________________________

***John Keating: I always thought the idea of education was to learn to think for yourself. 
___________________________________________________________________________)

***Dalton: [answering phone] Welton Academy, hello. Yes he is, just a moment. Mr. Nolan, it's for you. It's God. He says we should have girls at Welton. (XD)
__________________________________________________________________________

John Keating: Language was developed for one endeavor, and that is - Mr. Anderson? Come on, are you a man or an amoeba? 
[
pause
John Keating: Mr. Perry? 
Neil: To communicate. 
John Keating: No! To woo women! _
___________________________________________________________________________

***Neil: [quoting Henry David Thoreau] "I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life." 
Dalton: I'll second that. 
Neil: "To put to rout all that was not life; and not, when I had come to die, discover that I had not lived." 
___________________________________________________________________________

McAllister: "Show me the heart unfettered by foolish dreams and I'll show you a happy man." 
John Keating: "But only in their dreams can men be truly free. 'Twas always thus, and always thus will be." 
____________________________________________________________________________

***John Keating: We all have a great need for acceptance. But you must trust that your beliefs are unique, your own,  even though others may think them odd or unpopular, even though the herd may go, 
[imitating a goat] "that's baaaaad." Robert Frost said, "Two roads diverged in the wood and I, I took the one less traveled by, and that has made all the difference." 
____________________________________________________________________________

John Keating: Excrement! That's what I think of Mr. J. Evans Pritchard! We're not laying pipe! We're talking about poetry. How can you describe poetry like American Bandstand? "I like Byron, I give him a 42 but I can't dance to it!" 
____________________________________________________________________________

***John Keating: Boys, you must strive to find your own voice. Because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all. Thoreau said, "Most men lead lives of quiet desperation." Don't be resigned to that. Break out!
____________________________________________________________________________

John Keating: Mr. Pitts, would you open your hymnal to page 542 and read the first stanza of the poem you find there. 
Pitts: [reading the poem title] "To the Virgins To Make Much of Time"? 
John Keating: Yes, that's the one. Somewhat appropriate, isn't it? 
____________________________________________________________________________

Friday, April 17, 2009

An Indian Wedding

I went to an Indian Wedding today, here are a few thoughts that went through my mind.

- The place was called "Baradari". Some old mansion like 'nawabi' place. Even on the way, I saw so many such places. Reminds me how unfathomably rich Lucknow culture is. And how I will miss this place ... and that I am leaving it in a few months...
- Unknown relatives - and so many of them - so warmly welcome me - I don't know whether they know me - when I found some time alone I realized I should have smiled when they greeted me, perhaps.
- WOMEN - A lot of them, of all kinds. 
- A certain female. She was in a orange and gold - not my favorite colors, but she looked good. Beautiful, infact. She must be in her early 20's or something. Is she married? A strange thought just wanted the answer to that question to be HELL NO!
- Mehndi. Hmmm .. I like mehndi clad hands.
- Make-up. A lot of it. In insane excess. It was all around. There was no escaping those shades of pink. 
- A german couple. Both wearing Indian dresses. The girl was a class-mate of the bride. They were polite. They were interesting.
- **Food**. A lot of it. Chholey, nan, paneer, chowmein, vegitarian Kababs, chawal, icecream, gulab jamun, Rasmalai, mango-shakes ... in random order - I liked it. I almost always like food.
- The bridegroom smiling away. Boring.
- The bride arrives. Her eyes half closed. That large circular thing dangling from her nose. She is in red and gold. Somehow all women look good on their wedding day. Good to see she was actually smiling. 
P.S. - Females are a wierd, extremely attractive kind.  
- "Jaimal" - The bridegroom's friend pushing him, lifting him making it difficult for the bride to put the flowery thing around him. It finally happened . **Wierd unmentionable imaginations enter my mind.**
- The music, to my surprise was quite brilliant. The gazals, and the singers were amazing. **Ranjish hi sahi ..... ** 

Monday, April 13, 2009

"Knowing"


" 
We used to go up to the Catskill Mountains for vacations. In New York, you go the Catskill Mountains for vacations. The poor husbands had to go to work during the week, but they would come rushing out for weekends and stay with their families. On the weekends, my father would take me for walks in the woods. He often took me for walks, and we learned all about nature, and so on, in the process. But the other children, friends of mine also wanted to go, and tried to get my father to take them. He didn't want to, because he said I was more advanced.


So we went alone for our walk in the woods. But mothers were very powerful in those day's as they are now, and they convinced the other fathers that they had to take their own sons out for walks in the woods. So all fathers took all sons out for walks in the woods one Sunday afternoon. The next day, Monday, we were playing in the fields and this boy said to me, "See that bird standing on the stump there? What's the name of it?"
I said, "I haven't got the slightest idea."
He said, "It’s a brown-throated thrush. Your father doesn't teach you a thing!."
That evening I asked my father, why he never told me the name of the bird. He asked me, "What was the first thing you noticed about it?" 
"Well, it flies ... , which is kind of strange.... " , I answered.
Father replied with a wry smile, "It's a brown-throated thrush, but in Germany it's called a halsenflugel, and in Chinese they call it a chung ling and even if you know all those names for it, you still know nothing about the bird--you only know something about people; what they call that bird. Now that thrush sings, and teaches its young to fly, and flies so many miles away during the summer across the country, and nobody knows how it finds its way."
There is a difference between the name of the thing and what goes on."
This an anecdote from Mr. Richard P. Feynman's life. He was a physicist. I am not preaching science. This is just for those people who don't know enough about a certain thing, but consider themselves right in forming illogical opinions about it, coating the partial knowledge they have with figments of their own imaginations. Fine, even if forming opinions about just another thing you know "the name of" satisfies your ego, go ahead smart-asses! But don't try to preach your incomplete knowledge as if you are the ultimate authority.You might be diluting the essence of things.


Tuesday, March 17, 2009

My dear blog,
don't feel left alone. I am going to write. I have a lot of ideas in mind which i want to puke out .... pain, war and peace, ode to the awkward, a walk on ice ..... aaahh ..... just wait till my IIT gets over.

Friday, February 13, 2009

You

I can’t feel the passing day,
I can’t tell whether this is true,
Living in this illusion,
 I’m thinking of you.

There’s always something in the way,
It was me, this time too,
And today I feel broken,
I’m losing you.

I found peace when I was confused,
I found hope to make it through,
Not in me,
But in you.

Sometimes I want to run away,
Sometimes I want to start anew,
But I can’t,
Not without you.

I close my eyes to peep inside my heart,
I look at the image beneath the scarlet hue,
It is still clear and beautiful,
And it's you.


Happy Valentine's Day

Thursday, January 1, 2009

STARS!


There I was, lying on the grass, hands behind my head, thoughtlessly gazing into infinity. The dewy layer on the grass did not shine enough that winter night – it was moonless. The only sight that caught my attention that night was that of small dots of light, piercing through the nothingness of the bluish-black sky. “They are called Stars” – I said to myself. They did not speak, nor did they react to what I just said. All they did is – twinkle. And that brought a smile to my face. It was that night when my amazing fascination for these cosmic beings came to existence. I was six then.

As I grew up, so did my interest in the world beyond ours. As I learned more about the Universe, the first thought that struck me was – How infinitely big it is. The fact that I was a part of this limitless cosmos gave me a great sense of enormity – a strange sense of pride. There was a sense of excitement, when I thought about the places far away (really far away), which are still untouched, unexplored, unknown. And the embodiments of this fascinating idea of distance and obscurity were the Stars. These distant, innocent looking points of white light are actually, huge, intensely hot masses of gas and radioactive elements – home to the most explosive nuclear phenomena in the Universe - Fusion. ‘Outward appearances are surely deceptive’. Stars are majestic. Our own Sun is a middle-aged star. Millions of kilometers away from the earth, the Sun is the source of all heat and light on earth and all of the Solar System. This might give you an idea, of the amount of energy a star produces.

Like all creations of nature, stars also emerge from dust – space dust. Randomly scattered planetary dust and gases, are attracted towards each other under the action of Gravity, and under specific conditions and temperature, they form what we call a ‘protostar’ – the infant in Mother Nature’s womb. Along the course of billions of years, stars pass through different phases in their stellar lives (yellow dwarfs, red dwarfs, red giants, white dwarfs, neutron stars!) and exist for different lifetimes, depending on how massive they are. Just like humans, some stars just fade away into darkness, while others have spectacular deaths. When a sufficiently massive star uses up all its fuel for nuclear fusion, its constituent particles, start collapsing into each other under the effect of its own Gravity, resulting in the Supernova explosion – a burst of radiation that can outshine a galaxy, and produce as much energy as the Sun would produce in a lifetime. The remnant of a supernova is a Black Hole – an infinitely dense dark void in the cosmic fabric which attracts everything into itself, even light. Ironically, the same universal force of attraction is responsible for both the birth and the death of a star – Gravity.

But stars are much more than mysterious objects of Astronomy. We all want to ‘reach the stars’ or ‘be a star, a superstar!’. Stars have always been associated with success and recognition. They are thought of as the ultimate sign of glory. That is why stars hold immense importance in every culture, and are the symbol of the triumphant spirit of man.

For me, stars have a very personal meaning. They are a representation of all virtues and ideals I stand for. They relate to what I am and what I would want to be like in the future. Being as glorious and mighty as they are, stars appear to us as humble luminous specks across the night sky. They are physical embodiments of life energy, which they radiate through the entire Universe. But the virtue I define stars by is unending resolve. The light from the stars flickers and shimmers. It seems as if it fights a relentless battle against the darkness, and finally manages to pierce through, overcoming all odds.

Whenever I feel low, I look deep into the night sky and see the stars twinkling away shedding their light upon me. I have them, when I have no one else. What I feel at that moment is beyond expression. 

 

The Night Sky so infinite,
Where the beauty of contrast abounds,

 Stars are points of shimmering light,
Which cosmic darkness calmly surrounds.

The Curve of life


NOTE: I wrote this essay, as an answer to an essay question in a university application .....

The chilly breeze, coming from the bordering sea, swept across the street in a uniform gust. This was perhaps the most well-known street in India – the Marine Drive, also known as the Queen’s Necklace. I was in Mumbai – the City of Dreams. It is the city which represents the diversity of India. The place where people from all religions, castes, and social classes, live each day, in relentless struggle to transform their dreams into reality. For the past few days, I had known this city only as my SAT Examination center. As I walked along, I pondered upon my reason for being here this evening. I soon realized there was none, except for my random fancy.
I had no idea about what I would see, hear or experience. Lazily passing the buildings that rose steeply from the ground, my eyes fell upon a child on the footpath playing with a spinning top. He spun it again and again, gazing at its dizzy motion, with curious eyes. It seemed like he was aware of nothing beyond the top. Little did he care about who or what passed him. The cars, the sea or the street, nothing interested him as much. At this moment, the swirling motion of the top was the most mysterious, enigmatic and fascinating phenomenon of the Universe for the kid. Such was his innocent curiosity.
As I moved along the curve bordering the extensive sea, I saw a procession of people approaching me from the opposite direction.  The parade consisted of a majority of youths, like me. They held banners in their hands, shouted slogans and the look on their faces expressed fierce determination – Much like the emotion of all Indian youths after the 26/11 Mumbai terrorist attacks. Their footsteps were bold, yet unsure. These were people who were experiencing life very closely, trying to figure out what occurrences meant – if they had any meaning. They yearned for security, stability and also unrestrained freedom. I could identify with their insecure yet passionate outcries.
As the voices of the procession, faded into the distance, a BMW-530i sped past me and came to a halt a few paces in front. A man stepped out of the car talking on his mobile phone. His corporate suit and the lines of anxiety on his forehead suggested that he was some rich businessman. Ironically, this sight reminded me of the beggar I had just passed a few moments ago, begging for alms from each and every pedestrian he could get hold of. He needed money to make arrangements for his family’s meal tonight. He had the same lines on his temple.
Moving forward on the street, I reached a construction site. The sound of machines drilling a hole into the earth, and hammers thumping against the steel bars, drowned the voices of a group of workers, relishing a break from work, perhaps discussing what their wives would have prepared for dinner tonight. There was nothing glorious about their life, yet there was an enviable sense of tranquility. As I was noticing the contrast between the grandeur of the unfinished building, and the unremarkable lives of the workers, I stumbled upon an old woman, who tripped over her own stick, only to land in the safety of my arms. As I helped her cross the street, she blessed me – her countenance revealing more helplessness, than thankfulness.
Seeing the sinking Sun, setting the sea ablaze, I realized that the evening was coming to an end. As I again turned my view, towards the street, I saw a group of men clad in white, reflecting the sanguine color of the sunrays. Four of them were carrying the dead on their shoulder. Amidst the sounds of mourning, what could be clearly heard were the chants of “Ram naam satya hai” – meaning ‘The Almighty is the only truth’. They turned into another street and disappeared from sight. I thought to myself, whether everything I had seen, heard and experienced this evening, was a disdainful lie, compared to the absolute truth of Death. We travel through the different phases of life (childhood, youth, middle age, old age), only to experience the same finale. Death is the ultimate leveler.
By the time I took the taxi back home, cosmic darkness had covered the sky, and it was night. Everything I had witnessed today, answered a few questions, but gave rise to many new doubts and dilemmas. But it further established my belief in the idea that – ‘it is not what you become in life that is important; it is how you live your existence that matters’. All our lives will come to the same conclusion. It is how we spend these cherished moments, which will make each one of us different from the others.