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Showing posts from 2010

Despair and Hope: To No End

It is indeed not surprising that things have come out to the surface through the ‘Radiagate’ as it is now being called. As a lot of journalists who have given their opinion to the media watch dog have expressed themselves, its better late than never that all this much has finally surfaced, exposing the true journalists from people who pretend to be elite power brokers who wield their power to decide the fate of our nation. There are, however, certain things that have troubled me as an Indian for the past few days now – certain thoughts and questions that have been troubling me to the extent that it makes me worry about the future of a nation. I am currently studying outside India and having talked to people across a spectrum, I certainly reiterated something to myself – the freedom of speech has been indeed a valuable fundamental right that Indians were guaranteed. Have we used it to the best extent possible? I am young, so I cannot dwell on what I have not seen, and would rather like

The Aa Poh

She sat there, sketching While I was standing And people walked past Unruffled, as if pretending She sat there, a cloth laid out Held down by a few cents sitting On it with a few notes lying here and there While she remained stooped on her drawing Shriveled structure, eyes longing For the times when she was young And important, but now only a shadow When once she too was vibrant and strong Now all alone, I guess And no one to help, or offer any As we all remained aloof To her troubles and obscurity And she continued sketching While we breezed past her silently

Random

The sun rolled by The moon looked on While we stood there Wondering what was wrong The blood of the martyrs Flowing like rivulets Thick and red, they were Going to a complete waste The spirits of the dead Kept staring at me Asking us questions silently How disappointing could you be? Our tears, our wounds, the deathly haze For what? Oh what mistake did we make? Was it for this miserable day? That kids are buried by fathers in haste? That mothers ran out of tears Crying for the missing ones And wives stare at the door Hoping they get their husband's glance That the dead would pile up in heaps While their flesh gets eaten by worms Only because no one can decide Who killed whom, and whose is the turn

Lets Go

Let us go towards that far away horizon, so that I can see you clearly in the sunlight, for the world blurs in my eyes your true beauty, by illuminating you with all that fake light. Let us go towards that clear blue sky, so that I can breathe in your fragrance, for the smells of the world tend to screen from me that which is your true essence. Let us go towards the mouth of the river so that I can truly feel you, as the mud and grit tend to hide from me your skin's true touch, your body's vigour Let us go towards the the ends of the garden of Eden, so that I can relish you truly, for all the world's tastes have obscured my tongue to your true your true taste, your true flavour I know we cannot run away from the world but we can definitely hide in its corners, for there is nothing more in this world that I want than you being with me forever.

A Bad Dream

Long ago the clock washed midnight away; bringing the dawn; I wake up all of a sudden. Its dark around me, and I am scared - scared that darkness will engulf me and swallow me up to the point of disappearing forever. Dawn is far off it seems, and I for one am clueless as to what is going to happen to me next. I get out of the bed to realize that the floor is still there. Its chill sends a chill up my spine; but it is comforting in a weird sense. I can see in this darkness a strange silhouette of the doorway, as I stumble along towards the kitchen, trying to get for myself a glass of water to quench the thirst. The sweat trickling down my back makes me uncomfortable; not because of its expression of wet, but because it flows out of fear - fear of the bad dream I saw when I was perhaps asleep. Oh God, I must be dreaming; time to get up again; and time to start up again Terrible dreams plague me. They seem to be chasing me from a past unknown to me. In my dream I was an audio witness

At last

Delhi is a strangely funny city. Let us see what happens now!!!